Art & Soul (21 page)

I
woke
up to find my arms wrapped around Aria. My mind started racing as I began remembering the previous night. The light shining through the window fell against Aria’s face.

Light.

Morning.

Shoot!

I climbed out of the bed and scrambled to grab my shoes, hoping that—

“No need to rush, you’ve already been caught.”

I turned to see Mrs. Watson standing in the doorway with a mug in her hands.

“Mrs. Watson, I can explain…”

“Do you drink coffee, Levi?” she asked before heading toward the kitchen. I followed behind her, a little worried about entering a kitchen where there were many, many knives easily accessible. I cautiously ran my hand through my messy hair as I watched her grab another mug from the cupboard. “Cream? Sugar?” she asked.

“Both,” I answered cautiously, sitting down on one of the stools at the island. A few seconds later she passed me the mug and part of me wondered if there was a chance she’d poisoned it.

“I heard about your father.” She leaned against the island, across from me. “I’m so sorry.”

I shrugged, running my finger around the rim of the coffee mug.

“Your father and I used to date,” she said, making me almost spit out my coffee. She smirked. “It was a long, long time ago. We were around the same ages as you and Aria, so it’s a little strange for me to see you two so close. It’s pretty surreal.”

“I like her, Mrs. Watson. A lot.”

“She likes you too, honey, and I think that’s the problem. She’s going through so much. Aria keeps a lot to herself. There’s so much she doesn’t say. The worst feeling in the world for a parent is knowing that your child is hurting and being unable to help them. I just worry that her being so close to you could be some kind of way for her to avoid dealing with her deeper issues.”

“You want me to stop seeing her?” I asked, hoping the answer was no.

Mrs. Watson grimaced. “I don’t know, because last night when you showed up for the dance was the first time she actually looked…happy. Like her old self. I just—can you take it slow with her? Just friends?”

“Of course.”

“Which means no late night sleepovers.”

“I’m sorry about that. It was a really crappy night, and I had no one else to talk to. I didn’t mean to fall asleep over here, I swear. I’m sorry.”

She narrowed her eyes with a smirk. “You look so much like your father it’s scary.”

“Was he always like this?” I asked referring to Dad’s coldness and harsh personality. “I remember him being different, but I don’t know if I’m just making up those memories or something.”

She shook her head, going into the refrigerator and pulling out eggs and bacon. “Kent’s always been a little rough around the edges, but at the end of the day, every choice he ever made was made to look out for others. His tactics weren’t always the best, but the motives behind his actions were always from his heart. He doesn’t mean to be harsh.”

“When I used to visit him, he was happy to have me.”

“He’s happy you’re here, trust me. Your father doesn’t talk about things. He never really has. He keeps his feelings to himself. After you stopped visiting, I think he just got lonely, and instead of doing something about his loneliness, he held it inside and kept his feelings buried.”

“Were you and him in love?”

She shook her head. “Maybe puppy love, but he really loved your mom, he just made a few mistakes along the way. And I’ve truly only loved one man.” Tears fell from her eyes, and she laughed as she wiped them away, seeming somewhat embarrassed. “This is what happens when you work too many nightshifts in a hospital.”

“I really hope things work out with you and Mr. Watson.”

With a tight smile, she nodded. “Thank you, Levi. Now, on to the important things. Are you hungry?”

She proceeded to cook me breakfast, and I couldn’t help but think about how I missed my own mom. When she wasn’t too far gone into her mind, she would make me breakfast and we would have conversations in the mornings. I missed that.

After we ate breakfast, I thanked Mrs. Watson and walked out of the front of the house to head home.

“He loves you, Levi. You know that, right?” Mrs. Watson said, standing in her doorway. I shrugged, making her frown. “The day he found out about the cancer, he came to me. The same way you did. I sat with him and asked him if he had the chance to fix one thing in his life, what would it be.”

“What did he say?”

“Nothing. He said nothing. But a few weeks later, you showed up, and I think that said more than any words could ever say.”

T
he next Saturday
night was the night of our “Art & Soul” showcase for Mr. Harper and Ms. Jameson’s class. Lance and Daisy told me they would be there front row and center. Dad had a home nurse staying with us to help care for him, so he wouldn’t be able to make it.
Not that he would’ve anyway.

Simon and Abigail showed up, too, lips locked through most of the night.
God
. Kissing that much had to be tiring.

The showcase was taking place in the auditorium, which held a lot more people than I’d thought it would. Aria and I sat in the wings of the stage, watching the people who performed before us. Everyone else already had their piece of art completed, so when they went out there, the artist discussed their techniques and then their partner played a musical number.

Aria’s breaths were picking up as she stared out at the stage. “This was a terrible idea,” she said, shaking her head back and forth. “We should’ve just did like everyone else and had the painting completed. What if I can’t do it? What if I freeze up and can’t paint in front of all of those people? What if—”

“Just look at me,” I offered. “Just look at me and breathe. You can do this, Art.”

She nodded once and glanced out at the audience. Her eyes widened. “He’s here.”

“Your dad?” I asked, knowing she’d been worried that he wouldn’t show.

“No. I mean, yeah, he’s here, but I wasn’t talking about him.”

“Then who?” I looked out to see my dad sitting next to Lance and a lump formed in my throat. He looked weak, and tired, and hardly there, but he was there.
He came.

Mr. Harper announced us, and we walked on stage. As Aria set up all of her art supplies, I was in charge of greeting the audience. “Hi, everyone. I’m Levi Myers and this is Aria Watson setting up her stuff behind me. We decided that we wanted to do three live art pieces to showcase our collection. We thought it would be cool to paint it in real time instead of completing the pieces beforehand. Or perhaps we were just really last minute and didn’t get our work done in time,” I joked, making the room laugh. “Our collection is entitled, ‘Nonsensical Oxymorons.’”

Aria gave me a smile, indicating that she was ready to start. I grabbed my violin, cleared my throat, and started to play. The bow rolled across the strings as I began to play “Love You Till The End” as Aria used broken sticks and leaves from the woods to create her abstract piece.

She used dark, moody colors: deep blues, dark purples, blacks, grays, browns. She created a piece of art filled with darkness, despair, anger. As I became lost in the music, she became lost in the colors. She drowned as the colors drowned; she grew gloomy as her colors cried. She became the art. It was scary and beautiful all at once.

The second song was “Fix You” by Coldplay. She used bright colors: yellows, pinks, oranges. Her body loosened up as she splattered the paint onto the second canvas with ease. Her once dark demeanor was overtaken with a light of someone healing, finding their way, finding their happiness. She allowed the sound of my violin playing to be the exact opposite of what she created. It was cool seeing so much brightness and life on the second canvas.

Last, I played “Masterpiece”, by Jessie J—Aria’s song choice. The song was about feeling an overwhelming amount of pressure on a person’s life. But it also showcased the idea of falling and standing back up. It was about finding one’s way, learning to live, learning to breathe.

Aria paused for a few beats, staring blankly at the empty canvas. She dropped the sticks and leaves from her hold and her fingers dipped into a mixture of colors. Purples, greens, yellows, blues. Her eyes watered over, and she started painting with her fingers, running her hands up and down the canvas. The colors dripped, mixed, and blended. She started painting frantic, her tears falling down her cheeks as she wiped them with her paint-filled fingertips.

When I finished the song, Aria’s hands fell to her sides. Her chest rose and fell heavily as she stared at her controlled chaos.

She turned toward me. I smiled. She smiled.

The whole room smiled and cheered, rising to their feet applauding our masterpieces.

“
T
hat was fantastic
!” Abigail gushed, bouncing over to Aria and me after the show, Simon’s hand locked with hers. “I knew you both were talented, but what you did up there was beyond talented. Way to make everyone else up there seem ridiculously average in comparison.”

“Well, you know.” Aria smirked, her hands resting on her stomach. “Some people were born to stand out.”

“Which you two absolutely did!” Lance said, walking over toward us with Dad following slowly behind. “That was amazing. For a moment I thought Art was going to get up there and paint the same way she played the drums, but luckily you were the complete opposite. That was mind-blowing. And you!” He clapped, his face beaming with pride. He wrapped my head in his hands, kissing my forehead. “You are the kind of musician I want to be when I grow up.”

“He’s right, you know,” Mr. Watson said, flapping the showcase program against his hands. “You’re the real deal, Levi.”

I waited for him to add ‘for a dirtbag’ or ‘for a fucked-up loser’, but he didn’t. He looked over at my dad and gave a smile that almost looked apologetic. “He’s good, Kent.”

Dad just nodded once and kind of smiled, which felt like a giant hug.

“If it’s okay with your parents, Lance and I set up a celebration party back at our place with a ridiculous amount of music, art, and pizza!” Daisy offered. Aria and I whined at the idea of Daisy’s pizza; it was probably made out of dirt, or would at least taste like it was. Daisy laughed knowingly. “Don’t worry, it’s not vegan. I figured you all might like those disgusting genetically modified organisms that are filled with deadly chemicals and poisons that are slowly but surely leading to the end of mankind as we know it.”

“Ohmygosh, I hope you got pepperoni,” Aria joked. She turned to her parents to ask if she could go to Lance and Daisy’s.

After a small bit of hesitation, Simon jumped into the conversation. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Aria’s on her best behavior.”

“Just make sure to stay off of your feet,” Mrs. Watson ordered her daughter.

“And call me if you need a ride home,” her dad said, stepping near her and kissing her forehead. Her eyes widened at her dad’s action. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “You were fantastic tonight.”

Tears formed in Aria’s eyes as she thanked him.

Simon and Abigail agreed to meet us at Soulful Things after they stopped by their houses. I was pretty sure it was just an excuse to make out some more.

“
Y
ou were amazing
, tonight,” I told Levi. I’d never heard him play like that, free and raw.

“You weren’t half bad yourself,” he said as we stepped into Soulful Things after Lance and Daisy dropped Kent back at home with the nurse. Daisy had music playing throughout the space and there were tables set up with pizza and snacks. We spent the next hour talking about the showcase. We laughed about how Connor’s paintings had ended up looking like awkward penises, we were impressed that Ms. Jameson had finally decided to shave her beard, and we were not in the least bit surprised that Mr. Harper had gone on a long monologue about his past love with Leonardo da Vinci.

“I’m gonna miss that class,” Levi said, sitting against the floor with his legs wrapped around a bongo that he banged every now and then.

“Me too.” Mostly I would miss working with my partner each day. Next semester meant the start of homeschooling for the remainder of the year. I was going to miss the best Abigail quotes during lunch, and sitting on the dirty bus next to Simon, but mostly I would miss kicking invisible rocks with those blue Chucks each morning at the bus stop.

“Where exactly are Simon and Abigail?” Levi asked, ripping me away from my thoughts, which were getting a little too sad. “They said they would be here thirty minutes ago.”

Just like magic, Abigail opened the front door of Soulful Things. Her eyes were wide, and she was panting as if she’d run all the way from her house. Her hands landed on her hips as she bent forward, trying to catch her breath. “Simon’s in a terrible mood.”

“What? Because you two had to stop kissing?” I joked.

“No.” She shook her head. “Much worse than that—although that was pretty awful, too. I tried to calm him down by saying, ‘You have power over your mind—not outside events. Realize this, and you will find strength.’ Do you know who said that?”

“Marcus Aurelius,” Levi replied without thought.

She arched an eyebrow. “How did you know that?”

“Lucky guess,” he said, winking my way.

“This wasn’t the plan!” Simon came barging into the shop. “I can’t believe they would do this to me!” he shouted, his breaths heavy while his fingers were wrapped around a piece of paper.

“Who exactly is doing what to you?” I questioned.

“My parents! This wasn’t a part of the plan, we weren’t supposed to leave!”

My throat tightened. “What?”

“My dad was offered a job promotion,” he explained. “I found the paperwork on the living room table. They didn’t even tell me about it!”

“What’s wrong with a promotion?” Levi wondered out loud, his eyes narrowed.

“It’s in Washington.” Simon sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing the palms of his hands against his eyes.

Washington?

Washington?!

“When I confronted them about it they said we wouldn’t be moving until the summer, after I finished my semester of school and after the baby came. Why didn’t they tell me, though?! It’s as if they already made up their minds! It’s not fair.” He kept complaining, but my thoughts were still going over and over the word Washington.

Keira and Paul wanted an open adoption; I wanted an open adoption. I wanted to watch the baby being raised in a happy, loving family. That couldn’t happen if I was in Wisconsin and they were in Washington.

My eyes kept blinking, my chest feeling tight as the baby flipped and kicked in my stomach.
This wasn’t part of the plan.

“
W
ell
, this is the most depressing damn party I’ve ever seen,” Lance complained as he walked down the stairs from his apartment. Everyone was lying on the floor not talking as the music played on the loudspeakers. “Seriously, people. You suck at partying.”

“We’re depressed,” Simon explained.

“You’re too young to be depressed, unless you have gonorrhea. That shit is a buzz kill.” Lance snickered, until he realized none of us were laughing with him. “Come on, guys! Gonorrhea jokes are always good!”

No one replied.

“Okay. Well, since you are all so teenage-angst right now, how about we move to the rooftop for the awesome game that Daisy has set up for you.”

“No thanks,” Simon said.

“Too depressed,” I agreed.

Lance crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. “Now listen, you little buttheads, Daisy went out of her way to create this next activity for you all, and you are going to walk your lazy bums up to the rooftop, maybe get a little frostbite, and have fun.” We all stared blankly at him before he raised his voice.
“NOW!”

S
et
up on the rooftop were two guitars, a huge canvas, and baskets with water balloons. There were four markers sitting beside the baskets, and for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what was happening. Daisy was standing with her bright-as-always smile. “All right, you guys. In honor of Levi and Aria’s epic night of art, Lance and I thought it would be cool to have you explode in color. The balloons are filled with different paint colors, and the markers are for you to write down things that you’re feeling. Everything. The good, the bad, and the ugly parts. That’s what will make it beautiful. Plus, there will be music, brought to you by Lance and yours truly.” She walked over to the guitar and picked it up while Lance grabbed the other one. “Get messy.”

The four of us went for the paint balloons and started writing down the words that we were feeling in that moment. Words that we loved. Words that we hated. Words, words, words.

Simon wrote Washington and threw it at the canvas, making the balloon burst with a vibrant blue. Even though he hated Washington, the way the paint exploded on the canvas made him smile. “That’s actually really freaking cool.”

Words that were written and exploded against the canvas:

All the colors bled against the canvas, splattered paint everywhere. By the end of our masterpiece, the four of us had learned to laugh again as our hands managed to become covered in paint. Levi ran his fingers against my cheeks, painting my face with purple. I giggled and dressed his cheeks with greens. He picked up the last balloon and stood close to me. So close that I was certain he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. Instead, he took his marker and wrote one word on the final balloon.

There were over six hundred thousand words in the Oxford Dictionary. That meant there were six hundred thousand definitions of different words with a million and one meanings. Some words were silly while others were heartbreaking. Some words were happy while others were angry. So many different letters came together in different ways to form those different words, those unique meanings.

So many words, but at the end of the day there was only one word that stood out among the rest. One word that somehow meant both heaven and hell, the sunny days and the rainy days, the good, the bad, and the ugly. It was the one word that made sense when everything else around you was messy, painful, and unapologetic.

Love.

With a smile, I wrapped my pinkie around his and said, “I love you.”

I
t might not have been right
for us to feel the way we did, but it was our feelings, our way. My heart exploded when his lips met my forehead, and I listened to him whisper, “I love you, too.”