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How can it be loud and completely silent all at the same time? That’s what it is standing in awkward silence with her. I should go but I’m not ready to leave her. I’m not sure I ever will be.
When I finally open my mouth to finish the apology I started in the truck, before Maya interrupted me, Skye speaks at the same time.
“You first,” she says and I’m glad because I’m pretty sure she was about to thank me for the hoodie and send me on my way.
“I just, um… I wanted to say I’m sorry you had to see my mom and I fight like that.”
“It happens. I fight with my parents all the time. Well… Maybe it only seems like all the time because we barely spent any time together. I even fought with them about having to come here instead of living at home while I figure my shit out.”
“Do you wish you’d have won?”
“No.” Her skin already glows in the firelight but the blush that blooms on her skin starts a fire of its own on her lightly freckled nose and cheeks.
“Do you two fight like that a lot?” Skye asks like she’s afraid to offend me.
“Only since my dad died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t—.”
“No worries. It was nearly two years ago. I’m not over it, obviously, but it’s okay to talk about.”
There’s another pause but it’s less awkward this time. I’m about to offer her a drink and find something else to talk about—something lighter—when my sister bounds up and stops beside her.
“Hey. You disappeared on us,” Maya says, fake scolding Skye.
“Me cold. Fire hot,” Skye says in a silly caveman voice.
I chuckle and Maya looks Skye up and down then shifts her eyes to me. Eyeing me suspiciously.
“She was cold. I let her borrow it,” I say hoping Maya doesn’t figure out the real reason.
Maya curls her lip, disgusted with my existence as always. “Yeah. Okay.” Then, she tugs on Skye’s arm. “Come on.”
“But it’s warm here,” Skye whines playfully. Still, she lets Maya pull her along but never takes her eyes off of me.
With the sleeve of my hoodie folded over her hand and dangling over her head, Skye waves before disappearing into the dark beyond the reach of the fire’s glow.
It’s for the best. The more time I spend with her, the harder it gets to do the right thing and let her go.
nine
Skye
Thebonfirewascutshort when it started pouring down rain. Maya, Penny, and I all ran like hell to Penny’s car. Since then, it’s been raining off and on and I’ve struggled to find the inspiration to paint. There’s something about the sun through the dining room window today, though, that has me rushing upstairs to grab my gear and easel to set up by the picture window overlooking the backyard downstairs.
I hoped the warm light would be enough to jump-start my muse but it's not. Because it’s not just the weather that’s distracting me. Mostly it’s the elephant-sized crush I’ve developed. The only images in my head are of Theron. I’ve forced myself not to paint them anymore. Told myself the next thing I need to paint is Parker’s commission. Every time I do, my block only gets worse. It’s all made worse still by the fact that I didn’t get a chance to give him back his hoodie as we escaped the rain. Since then, the last couple of days, I wear it every chance I get. Pull the fabric up, over my nose and mouth and breathe him in.
Even though I’m not wearing it now, afraid to get paint on it and have him pissed at me for it, my head is still full of him.
I need to get him out. Make room for other things in my brain.
With my ear pods in, Fiona Apple adding to my melancholy, the bonfire of my dreams comes alive on the canvas from the end of my brush.
In my head, I relive that short meeting by the fire when Theron so gallantly offered me his hoodie. It’s not what I paint. Not the literal scene but the feeling of it. The oranges and blacks, bright and deep but also, blue and gray, the cool haze that ushered in the rain.
This is what I live for. Being in the flow. Not having to think about my next move.
Random songs from my favorite playlist come and go. Bjork, Gin Blossoms, Bush, and back to Fiona. Over and over again.
