“Did you hear me?”
“Uh, no. What did you say?”
Her lips pursed like they always did when she was unimpressed. “What are you looking at out there that you’re completely ignoring me?” She stomped over (literally) to my window and I had the strongest urge to pull the curtains shut and tell her ‘nothing’ like a completely obvious nut. Instead I just froze and waited for her reaction. The smile I knew was coming spread across her face.
“Colt Morgan, huh? Still got the hots for him?” She grinned at me, wiggling her eyebrows. I decided then that I hated her eyebrows. Maybe I could shave them when we had a sleepover…nah. Then she’d look like that girl from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and that was just creepy.
“Shut up,” I said, turning to finish the task I had originally set out to do. My paints were like my babies. I always took care of them, which meant making sure they never dried out.
“I bet he looks different than from what you remember,” she continued, like she couldn’t tell I
really
didn’t want to talk about it. For eight years of my life I’ve had the biggest crush on a guy I’ve never done more than nod my head at. Not one word. Not one smile or wave, or any form of communication other than a nod. I was so lame. He probably thought I was such a freak, which meant that even if I wanted to, there was no way I could speak to him now. Nope. My life would be spent watching him from a distance as I became an old, lonely lady with ten cats.
Crap. I hated cats.
Against my will, I walked back over to stand beside her and looked out the window. He was still out there, leaning beneath the hood of his 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle that his father had bought him when he was thirteen. Who the hell buys a thirteen year old kid a classic car? Seriously! His father also ended up walking out on his mother the following day so clearly he wasn’t the best parental role model. I remembered watching him when his father got home with it. The roaring sound of the engine had caught my attention while I sat in my window, painting the cherry blossoms on the Stephenson’s lawn across the street. I still remembered the look on his face too. It had been – priceless.
It was also the last time I really saw him smile like that since that following day after his dad left. From then on he rarely smiled, rarely said hello to me as I walked by with my head down and my shoulders hunched, rarely showed up for school or any school functions. Colt Morgan had gone from an okay student to a bad student in less than five days. It was probably a record.
The sun gleamed off his naked back, his head invisible beneath the hood. Tattoos covered his arms, and part of his back, but didn’t take away from the smooth, bronzed perfection that was his body. I gave myself a good mental shake.
“Doesn’t the man own a damn shirt?” I muttered with a huff.
“Dear God, I hope not,” Ella said on a sigh, fanning herself with her hand. Colt stood up at that moment, wiping his hands on a towel hooked through one of the belt loops on his jeans that hung dangerously low on his narrow hips. He ran his hand through his messy, dark hair, completely unaware that he was being gawked at by two girls. “That man is so hot it hurts to look at him sometimes.”
“How has he been the last two years?” I asked, trying my best to hide my genuine concern. I really didn’t know him at all, but I’d lived beside him for so long it kind of felt like I did. When we were really young he used to say hi to me, and then as we got older it had just been a nod in my direction. I always wondered if that was because I never said hi back and he had just given up, or if he had just gotten too cool to say hello to the weird art girl that lived next door.
By the last year that I was here before leaving for school, it had turned into nothing at all. I would see him out of the corner of my eye when I’d get home and walk up the path to my front door. I knew he’d see me too, but he’d just stopped acknowledging me all together. It had hurt. I don’t know why, considering he owed me nothing.
“He runs with a pretty bad crowd,” Ella was saying. “Reagan and all the girls flirt with him endlessly, it’s kind of disgusting.” I turned my head to look at her. “No, don’t worry, I never flirted with him. One, I know he’s your soul mate and I would never do that to you. And two, he kind of scares me.”
Another boy walked out of the garage, his voice calling out to Colt and causing him to turn so I could finally see his face. It was still perfect. The same sharp lines that made my fingers itch to paint him. The same perfect lips that begged me to capture them on canvas. And the same haunting grey eyes that were almost silver. The ones that I had seen in my dreams more times than I could count.
“Now that one I am definitely not scared of,” Ella said, growling. Wait. Did she just growl?
“What are you? A cougar now?”
She laughed. “That, my absent friend, is Colt’s best friend, Rannon. Also known as my future husband.” I observed the other boy, taking in his bleached out hair that was almost white, the contrast to his golden skin making it actually look good. It was shaved short on the sides but longer on the top, swept back off his face. Clearly it was a styled look and yet he carried it off as though he couldn’t care less how he looked. His face was all angles from what I could see, but I could definitely understand why Ella was attracted to him.
“Is that right?”
“Yup!” she said happily. “Isn’t it perfect? We’re going to marry BFFs.”
“Your craziness has developed tenfold since I’ve been away.”
“I know.” She laughed again.
I watched the two boys as they talked, gesturing to the car’s engine now and again. I could just make out the silver gleam of the lip ring at the corner of Colt’s mouth. It should have been a travesty, piercing something that perfect, but somehow the jewellery just made it better.
“So this Rannon guy, you talk to him at all at school?”
She snorted. “As if. Like I said, your man down there scares me, and so do most of his friends. But I still think he’s the one. I just have to work up the courage to make him realize I exist.”
“Well don’t ask me for any advice with that one,” I muttered, watching them outside. “I’m pretty sure I’m the choir you’re preaching to.”
“Maybe that should be our goal this summer,” Ella said, clapping her hands. “Operation ‘Make the Bad Boys Notice Us’.”
“Uh, no. I’m still the freak, remember? Just because you’ve become Miss Popular, doesn’t mean I have. If he hooks up with those kinds of girls, there’s no way he’d give me the time of day.”
“Pffff, girl please. You are a hundred times prettier than Reagan and her zombie posse.”
I self-consciously pulled at the ends of my plain brown hair that I hadn’t cut in years and probably should have because all it did was hang in waves down my back. Everyone always said I had nice eyes, but I always found them dull. They weren’t the bright, vibrant green of fresh grass or an emerald like I would have wanted. No, they were too pale to be beautiful. And I always hated the smattering of freckles across my nose that seemed to pop out more in the summer when I’d been in the sun too much.
“Stop it,” Ella said, smacking my hand. “I know exactly what you’re thinking, and trust me you’re gorgeous. Guys always notice you. You just don’t notice them back.”
I snorted, biting back my response of ‘you have to say that, you’re my best friend’ because I knew that would only piss her off more. The boys were both bent over the engine now. We watched them in rapt silence. It occurred to me that what we were doing was seriously creepy and probably illegal in most places, but I couldn’t seem to pull my eyes away.
Suddenly Miley Cyrus’ voice filled my bedroom, her song
Can’t Stop
blaring. I looked around frantically like an atom bomb was about to go off as Ella walked calmly over to her purse and pulled out her phone. She looked over at my stunned face.
“Don’t judge me,” she said, swiping her finger across the screen to answer it. “Hello?”
I turned back to the window, ignoring her as she spoke to whoever was on the other end. I didn’t even have a phone. Why bother when there was no one to call you? Ella and I would talk whenever I got the chance to use the communal phone in the dorm. Other than that, we always spoke online. My eyes sought Colt again, meeting those silver orbs head on.
“Shit,” I cursed, flying backwards away from the window. I crouched on the floor, frozen, like if I just didn’t move it would make the situation better. Ella had stopped talking, looking at me with a strange face.
“Yeah, I’m still here,” she said into the phone. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll meet you girls there around ten. Oh, and I’ll probably be bringing a friend,” she said with a mischievous smile at me. “No, not a guy. Don’t worry about it. See you there.” Her phone clicked as she hung up.
“Miley Cyrus? Seriously?”
“At least I’m not the one hiding on her bedroom floor. What the hell are you doing?”
I stood up, feeling really stupid. “I think he saw me looking at him.”
Ella laughed loudly, tossing her phone back into her purse. “That’s awesome.”
“Not it’s not!”
“I’m sure he didn’t actually see you. The sun reflects off the windows so you can’t see in. Plus, we’re on the second floor, there’s no way he could see you all the way up here.”
“But he was looking right at me,” I argued.
“Probably just a coincidence.”
I prayed she was right. I watched as she walked back over to the window and looked down.
“They’re both just working on that damn car.” She turned, her face lit up. “Guess who that was on the phone.”
“I give up,” I said, walking over to my vanity to grab a hair tie. I swept my hair up into a messy bun and flopped down across my bed on my stomach so I could still look at her.
“You didn’t even guess.”
I shrugged.
“Fine. You suck. It was Jennifer,” she announced.
“Yay.” I couldn’t make my voice any drier if I tried.
“She just told me that there is a party tonight! And we are totally going!” She jumped up and down, clapping her hands.
“There is no way I’m going to a party tonight.”
“Oh yes you are,” she said in her ‘don’t argue with me’ voice. Walking over to my closet, she instantly started throwing outfits onto the bed beside me. “You’re going because it’s going to be at Colt’s house.” She turned around to give me a smirk. “Operation ‘Make the Bad Boys Notice Us’ is in full effect.”
Colt’s? There was no way I could just show up at his house for a party. I told her this.
“Of course you can, don’t be ridiculous. He has these parties all the time, and anyone can show up. It’s not like an invite only type thing. And plus, you live next door. Why wouldn’t you go?”
There were a million reasons but I doubted she was willing to listen to any of them. She walked over to stand in front of me, hands on her hips again.
“We are going to this party, Olivia Banks, no excuses. This is the summer before our senior year and we’re going to enjoy the hell out of it.”
“Can’t we just go out for ice cream?” I moaned.
“No, no we can’t. Now go take a shower while I pick out an outfit. Then we’re doing your makeup!”
I buried my face in my comforter. She wanted to do my makeup. It was official, I was going to this party and there was no way Ella would let me back out of it. Especially if she was already planning on painting my face. And here I thought I was the artist. Just kill me now.
Two
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but of their inward significance – Aristotle.
Colt
It was too damn hot to be outside. Sweat ran down the middle of my neck and back. Rannon was hunched over the engine, tightening the bolts on the new alternator. I took a long swig of my water, stepping back to take a quick break. It had to be the hottest day of the summer so far.
Placing the water back in the shade of the garage, I took a second to glance up at her window. It was something I did often and I had no idea why. Olivia Banks – the girl next door. The one girl who never seemed the least bit interested in me. I never had problems attracting girls, but the girl with the dark hair and pale eyes was completely oblivious to whatever charms other girls saw in me. She had moved away a couple of years ago and I hadn’t seen her since. Her parents still lived there, so I figured she’d be back around Christmas and Thanksgiving. No luck. It had only taken me about six months of not catching glimpses of her, either in the halls at school or outside our houses, to make me realize I’d messed up by not trying to talk to her more.
She just seemed so quiet and shy. She kept her hair forward, always hiding behind the thick curtain of it, those green eyes focused on the ground in front of her. The black sketchpad that was her constant companion always held protectively against her chest. There was just something about her though. I noticed it when I first moved here, even at the young age of eleven. I’d just never worked up the nerve to do anything about it.
Her best friend, Bella…Lila…shit, what was her name? Ella? Yeah, Ella. She started hanging out with Reagan and the rest of those girls after Olivia disappeared. Countless times I’d tried to work up the nerve to ask her where Olivia had gone, but I’d never done it. Not that I was chicken, because shit, she was just a girl and girls I can handle, but because it would probably seem weird, me asking about her. I was a random guy to them.
“Looking for your Juliet, Romeo?” Rannon snickered behind me. I turned around and gave him a good punch in his shoulder. He cried out, holding onto it. “Ouch, dude! Keep those boney knuckles away from my delicate skin.”
I snorted, walking back to my baby. This thing needed more work than I’d thought, but when it was done…man it was going to be the sickest car in the neighbourhood.
“Seriously, bro. How many times you going to stare at that girl’s house like that?”
I looked up, both eyebrows raised. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I was checking the sky to see if there are any clouds coming in this way.”