CHAPTER 26 #2
“Yes, because you can’t just try to attack her with your dick, especially since she’s not even talking to you. Imagine going into her apartment and wielding your penis with an apology note hanging off it.”
Bennett snorts as I look at OC, expressionless.
I really hate him most of the time.
“Say something else stupid, see where it gets you,” I threaten.
OC leans toward Bennett and whispers, “Think I should see what he would do?”
Bennett glances at me and shakes his head. “Remember, don’t poke the bear.”
“Right.” OC straightens. “Okay, so hidden talents? Anything you want to share with us, something like…I don’t know, do you write poems?”
“Poems?” I lift a brow.
“Yeah, you don’t seem like the intellectual type,” he says, making me growl. “I meant the Shakespeare type.”
“What about singing? Can you sing?” Bennett asks.
“Do you think I’m about to sing to a girl so she will talk to me? You had a higher chance with a poem.”
“Yeah, Bennett, what a stupid suggestion.” OC shakes his head. “Who brought that guy?” He clears his throat and continues, “We clearly can’t have you ask her out because she won’t even talk to you.”
“What about doing something with the flamingos?” Bennett asks. “That would probably make her really happy.”
“Ooh, like donate money to her cause,” OC says, but I shake my head.
“No, that won’t impress her. I think that would only piss her off more because it would be like paying to win back her affection.”
“Right. See, another dumb suggestion, Bennett. Come on, think,” OC says while tapping his chin.
“That was your idea, numb nuts,” Bennett shoots back.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Huh.” OC chuckles and scratches his cheek. He’s such a fucking idiot. “Okay, how do we like the flamingo thing, at least?”
“Has potential,” I say. “But there isn’t much that we could really do. You’ve seen the exhibit. It’s kind of shit with that wall and the chicken wire…” An idea perks up in my head.
“Fuck, look at his mind at work. You can actually see the gears turn,” OC says, leaning in close.
“If he punches you, I’m just going to stand over you and nod. Because with comments like that, you had it coming,” Bennett says.
“I could handle a punch from him,” OC says. He sizes me up. “Eh, it would hurt like a bitch, but I wouldn’t be flattened.”
“Want to see?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Have a photo shoot with the giraffes tomorrow. I’m good.”
“What’s your idea?” Bennett asks.
I tug on my hair, thinking it over. “Well, there is this wall the zoo put up during the bird flu to help keep the birds safe. It’s really haphazard, and they put windows in it, but covered them with chicken wire, so it’s hard to see the flamingos sometimes.
I’m not sure they would let me replace it because that would take time and permits, but I know how to paint.
So what if I painted the wall to be something that would draw attention, something people would want to take pictures in front of?
Then I can paint the chicken wire black because it takes the glare off the wire and you can see through it easier. ”
OC glances at Bennett and back at me. Then, like a fool, he starts to slow clap. “Look who just became president of the Gladdy Daddies because, dude, that’s genius.”
I chuck a pillow at him, skidding it right across his face.
“Hey, I gave you a compliment.” He touches his jaw.
“You also called me ‘dude’ and made a spectacle.”
“Facts,” Bennett says as he reaches into his bag and pulls the seaweed out.
“You want a pillow to the fucking head too?” I ask.
Bennett slowly lowers the seaweed back into his bag.
“Whipped,” OC says.
“Shut the fuck up. You’d do the same thing.”
OC rubs his face and nods. “Yeah…you’re right.”
“Do you have everything you need?” Phil asks, looking over my supplies and the lights I have aimed at the wall.
It’s after zoo hours, and I plan on spending as much time here tonight as I can to try to make a big dent on this mural I have mapped out in my head.
It’s going to be simple, nothing too serious, something with a lot of color, abstract objects, minimal shading to make the objects pop, flamingos, and of course, a lot of pink.
When I took the idea to Phil, he was actually pretty excited about it.
He started talking about how it would be great visibility, especially with the way social media works, and the wall being a great place to pose in front of.
Whatever the fuck that means, but it did make me think that I should probably record myself painting for Flock and Tackle.
“I have everything.”
“Good. If you need anything or when you’re ready to leave, the walkie-talkie is here for you to reach security. They’ll help.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“How many nights do you plan on working on this?”
“Hopefully just one. If I have to finish up tomorrow after training camp, I will.”
He nods. “And you don’t want me saying anything to the zookeepers?”
I shake my head. “No, please keep this between us.”
“Okay.” He smiles tightly. “Have a good night.”
“You too.”
He takes off, and I set my phone up against a bucket of paint and turn the camera to face me so I make sure I have the right angle. When I’m satisfied, I press record on the time-lapse and get to work.
First things first, prime the wall.
I let the sounds of the zoo fill in as background noise while I pour paint and start rolling it out on the plain wood.
I hope it’s worth it. Not having Maple to chat to, even if it’s only been a day, has felt so…
unnatural. Wrong. I’ve…missed her. Truly missed her.
We’ve only known each other for a matter of weeks, but she’s brightened my life, even if I haven’t contributed the same light to hers.
And I want her to know that she’s special.
Seen. And appreciated. I want her to know that I appreciate her…
and that I don’t want our relationship to only be part of a PR stunt.
I want…more. And if painting something for her is what makes that happen, then, that’s what I’ll be doing.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.