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“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb, Deanna. You’re too smart to pull it off.”
My chest flares with the strangest mix of flattery and indignation.
“You don’t approve of me,” he says, “so you’re trying to keep me away from her.”
What?“Why wouldn’t I approve of you?”
He hesitates, like he’s unsure if he should admit to something. Then he says, “Because I’m not in the same class.”
“Oh, please,” I scoff. “Your house is worth three million dollars.”
“My grandma’s house,” he clarifies. “And she bought it for less.”
Fair point.
“What’s the guy do?”
I blink at him, confused by the topic change. “What guy?”
“The one Lexi met in the app.”
“How do you know about that?”
“Again, Grandma,” he says. “She knows everything.”
Right. “He’s an employment lawyer.”
“Not an artist.”
“Get over yourself.” I wave him off. “Lots of people are artists. Rich people, especially. It’s a rich kid job.”
He sits back, his expression hurt.
Ha. Got him.
Except I don’t feel good about the dig. I feel like an asshole, actually.
“It’s not because you’re not good enough for her,” I say. “It’s not about you at all, really. It’s about her.” And didn’t we already have this conversation ten years ago? Has he forgotten? He was supposed to forget Lexi, not forget what I said to him about her.
“Flattering.”
I raise a brow. “Is that sarcasm?”
“I’d think you’d recognize it,” he says with a smirk. “I’m trying to speak your language.”
This is getting too personal. “Why did you draw Lexi?” I ask again.
He stares at me, hard. “Why do you care?”
“I told you why. Just answer the question.”
He sits back and blows out a breath, his eyes going distant for a moment, then says, “It was a project for AP Studio Art. We had to pick a subject we didn’t understand. Break it into lines, shapes, colors. To view it through different lenses.”
“So you’d understand?”
He nods.
