Chapter Twelve Ryan
Chapter Twelve
Ryan
The kitchen table is quiet the next morning like it usually is. I couldn’t sleep at all last night, and it’s not only because I can’t stop thinking about my parents.
Artemis invaded my mind. No matter how much I tell myself I’m better off without her, my heart refuses to listen.
“I didn’t have a chance to ask you what you think about the Wests,” Grandma says to me, the look in her eyes telling me she’s desperate to have a conversation with me. I wish I could be the grandson she needs and wants. But it’s just too hard.
I poke at my soggy cereal. “They’re good people.”
She looks like she wants me to say more, but I kind of want to be alone with my thoughts.
Not about my parents, though. That’ll only make me want to punch something.
But about Artemis. It’s screwed up. On one hand, I like hanging out with her.
On the other, I know that it’s not good for either of us.
I told her I don’t want to be her friend.
That was a lie. I’d do anything to go back to the guy I once was.
As captain of the soccer team at my old school, I was pretty popular, with lots of friends and fans.
Now I’ve shriveled up into nothing. I keep trying to tell myself I’m better off this way, but I’m only deluding myself.
I get to my feet. “Thanks for breakfast. I should get to school.”
She rests her hand on my arm. “I was thinking we could do something this weekend? Maybe go to an art museum?”
The hope in her eyes tears at me. Dad was estranged from his mom, but I know he would want me to build a relationship with her. “Okay.”
A bright smile conquers her face. “Great.”
Awkward silence.
I grab my backpack and fling it over my shoulder. “See you later.”
“Have a good day at school.” She makes a move like she wants to hug me or something, but I bend out of the way and make my way to the door.
Like usual, I reach the building a few minutes before the bell rings. I don’t like coming to school earlier than I need to. Don’t want to be forced to be with these kids or have conversations with them. Like I keep telling myself, I’m better off alone.
Then why do my eyes search for Artemis the second I enter the building?
She’s at her locker, talking to her friend. My heart urges me to join them, to make some sort of effort to have friends. But I shut it down.
As I pass them on my way to class, they stop talking and turn to me. My eyes catch Artemis’s, and something passes between us. Not sure what it is. I’m about to continue on, when she says, “Hey, Ryan.”
I stop and face her. “Hey.”
We just stand there looking at each other. I feel Jenna’s eyes flicking between the two of us.
The bell rings.
Jenna flings her arms around Artemis. “See you at lunch.” She scurries off.
I have no idea why I’m still standing here. It’s like my feet are glued to the floor.
Artemis shuts her locker and tucks some hair behind her ear. “Want to go to class together?”
I should stay away, but I nod instead. We walk side by side, and I notice just how close we are. Our shoulders are nearly touching.
We reach the classroom and I’m about to take a seat in the back, to be far, far away from her. But then I pause and turn around, glancing at the desks Artemis and I sat at yesterday. For some reason, I don’t want to sit in the back anymore.
Crap. What the heck is wrong with me? I should stay away. The closer we grow, the worse it’ll be.
Fisting my hands at my sides, I clench my teeth and force my feet to take me to the back.
Dropping down in her chair, Artemis watches me sit at the desk and take out my sketchpad.
I draw during class, not only because I don’t care about my grades, but because I can’t let myself think about her.
But when class ends, I check what I’ve drawn. My heart skips a beat when I take in the brown hair, green eyes, and sweet smile.
I quickly shut the pad, my heart lurching some more.
***
I grab something from the cafeteria, then make my way toward the art room. I still can’t believe…I drew Artemis…
A hand clamps around my arm, and I lift my head to find Brianne before me. She pushes a wide smile on her face. “Hey.”
I pull free. “Hey.”
Her eyes rove over my tray of meatloaf, or whatever the heck it is, and she frowns. “You’re leaving?” She bats her eyelashes as if that’s supposed to do something to me.
I’ve given this girl enough hints to leave me alone. But then again, I’ve done the same to Artemis. Yet why does it only piss me off when Brianne’s in my face? And how can I forget that I drew Artemis? I’ve never drawn a girl before.
She clutches my arm again. “Sit with me and my friends.”
“No.”
Her eyebrows scrunch. “Come on, you know you want to.” She gives me this flirty look that once again does nothing to me.
I push past her, forcing her to drop her hand, and stalk toward the art room. I can feel her watching me, the anger at being rejected burning off her.
I enter the art room and set up a canvas on an easel. The best thing about this place is that it’s empty right now. Kids are either busy with classes or at lunch.
Now that I gave the money back to Jason, I really need to get these paintings done if I want to afford that guitar.
I’ve been selling my stuff online and the feedback has been great.
But I can’t concentrate for some reason.
I keep telling myself that I need that guitar.
It’ll be gone before I know it. I can’t lose it—it’ll be like losing my dad all over again.
The guitar belonged to Dad’s favorite musician.
He worked hard to save up for it, and spent a ton of money on it when I was ten.
And he let me play it a few times, though I hesitated because I was worried I’d wreck it.
Then he had to sell it because we were behind on rent.
I can still remember the forlorn look in his eyes when he left with it and came back empty handed.
I always promised myself I’d buy it back for him one day.
Too bad I never got the chance. But I want to do it for him now.
“Ryan?”
Artemis is in the doorway, lunch tray in her hands. “I figured I’d find you here.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
She sits down in the chair next to me and places her tray on the table. “I decided to keep you company. And don’t worry, we don’t have to talk or be friends or whatever.”
I gape at her. “Why would you want to keep me company?”
She doesn’t answer as she bites into her meatloaf. “This is disgusting.”
I wasn’t planning on eating, anyway. I haven’t had much of an appetite this month, but it’s gotten worse ever since the dance.
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a pack of M&Ms. “Want some?”
I shake my head. She pops a few into her mouth. “Too bad we can’t leave campus. I’d sneak out, but then it’ll be all over the news what a bad girl the mayor’s daughter is. Ugh, I hate being scrutinized all the time. It sucks.”
I don’t know what to say to that, so I keep quiet. I kind of know what it’s like to be in the spotlight, being a former soccer star. But that feels like it was a lifetime ago. Many things from before last month are blurry. Except for memories of my parents. I’ll never forget them.
“Are you sure I can’t take a teensy weensy peek at your drawings?” She tilts her head toward my sketchbook sitting on the table. Then pops a few more M&Ms into her mouth.
Like the speed of light, I snatch my sketchbook away from her reach. “No. It’s private.”
She holds up her hands. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop or anything.” Her gaze zips to the canvas. “What are you drawing? Looks like a river.”
I shake my head. “No idea.”
“You have no idea what you’re drawing?”
“Sometimes I just let myself go. Other times, I draw a specific thing.” And apparently sometimes my brain decides to control my hands and draw a girl I shouldn’t be drawing.
“Wow. That’s so cool.”
Something tugs at me, but I pay no attention to it. Instead, I focus on the canvas. Why on Earth did I draw a river?
She’s quiet as I continue to draw, as if she wants to give me the space I need. It’s very…considerate of her. And the fact that she’s sitting with me, even after I’ve been so rude to her?
Why? Why is she determined not to leave me alone? And why doesn’t it piss me off as much as I thought it would?
I can feel the body heat radiating off her. It’s kind of hard to concentrate when she’s so close to me, but I can’t distract myself. I need to focus on something or else I’ll find myself falling for her.
Her eyes are like fire as they watch me, and my fingers lose control and make a thick streak of red paint across the canvas. “Crap.” I’ve messed up the whole thing.
I stand and reach to trash it, when Artemis says, “Wait. Don’t throw it out.”
“It’s screwed up.”
She shakes her head. “It’s blood, see? First I thought it was going to be maybe a beach or maybe you’d add a boat to it. But now you can put a shark.”
I lift a brow. “A shark eating a human?”
“No, silly. A shark or sharks feasting.”
I rub my chin as I run the idea around in my brain. “You never told me you’re an artist.”
She holds up her hands in defense. “I’m not. I suck at art.”
“But you have an eye for it.” I pause. “Want to help me?”
Her eyes widen like I asked her if she wants me to kiss her. “What? You want me to help you?”
I don’t know why I suggested it. I always keep my art to myself, have never shown it to anyone other than my parents and the strangers who buy it. And now I’m showing it to Artemis?
“Yeah,” I find myself saying.
She presses her lips together. “But I don’t know how. I mean, how do I even draw a shark?”
I shrug. “Draw however you want. It’s not like it’s professional or anything.” I guess I’ll need to work on another painting to sell.
She steps closer to the canvas. “I really don’t know…”
I’m about to say something, but the bell rings. Artemis groans. “The bell always rings at the worse time, doesn’t it?”
“Want to work on it after school?”
She blinks at me. “Really?”
I nod.
“I thought…” She runs her hand through her hair. “I mean, I thought you don’t want to hang out with me.”
I do, and have no idea why. It seems the more I push her away, the stronger I feel about her. As a friend. It can only be as a friend. She was right when she said I need a friend, and I don’t want it to be anyone but her.
“We’ll meet here after school?” she asks.
I nod and we head down the hallway to our next class. She gives me a shy, sweet smile, and I wish I could return it. But I haven’t smiled in over a month and I doubt I will anytime soon.
I’m very aware of her hand that’s right next to mine, and my fingers itch to wrap around hers. Is her skin as soft and warm as I imagine it?
She pulls her hand away, snapping me out of my thoughts, my fantasy. How many times do I need to tell my heart not to lower its guard?