by Heart,Skylar
Then why do I wonder what it will feel like?
Chapter 8
Hunter
I hold the bright red dress out to Lizzy. Last night, after we spent the afternoon in the forest, I was inspired and had to make something. I stayed up almost the whole evening to finish it. “Come on. Please try it on. I don’t have someone to model it for me. I need to make sure I got the fit right.”
“Are you serious? You barely know me and you still want me to model a dress for you? Do you just expect me to drop my clothes right here and try it on?” She frowns, but at the same time, she’s trying to suppress a smile.
“You can change into it elsewhere, but yeah, I’m serious.” I make sure she’s looking at me. “It’s not like you didn’t use me as a model yesterday… and you didn’t even ask.”
Lizzy colors a beautiful scarlet, her eyes going wide and her mouth opening and closing. I love it when I can make her drop that indifferent persona she puts on, when I can make her react to me so beautifully.
“You didn’t think I wouldn’t realize what you were doing, right?” I grin and Lizzy lets out a breath.
“Fine. But if it doesn’t fit, I won’t come out.”
“That’s fair.” I step back as Lizzy takes the dress from me. “See you in a bit.”
Lizzy stalks off, her strides measured, her back straight. She’s convinced that she won’t fit into it, that it won’t look good on her.
I can’t help but smile. Of course, I didn’t care that she drew me yesterday—I was kinda flattered—but it made for great leverage. I step back outside and let myself fall onto one of the couches.
It takes a few minutes, but then I hear footsteps inside, coming towards the doors. When I look up, Lizzy takes my breath away. The sunny dress falls exactly as I imagined it would, just the right amount of tight up top and flowy at the bottom. It might have been better in yellow, but I didn’t have any yellow fabric on hand and I don’t think Lizzy would have worn it either. She puts her hands behind her back as she slowly shifts her weight from one leg to the other. Then she turns her eyes up to me, the azure tempered by fear and insecurity.
“Stop staring.” Her voice is quiet, very little certainty behind it. “It looks wrong, right?”
I shake my head. “It looks great. Exactly as I imagined it.”
Her short laugh is without humor. “How can that be? I’m nothing like other girls. Clothes for other girls never look right on me.”
I want to tell her the truth, I made the dress to suit just her, not other girls. Instead I make up a lie. “This shape is flattering on everyone.”
She nods, obviously still not sure about my answer. She carefully sits on the arm of the couch. “Did you make this over the weekend?”
“Nah. Last night. I was inspired.” I can’t help but grin. She inspires me. I don’t know why, but she does.
“Inspired how?”
“The forest, the light, the summer. It inspired me to make it, that, and it was way too hot to fall asleep.”
“Hmm.” She doesn’t say anything else. Instead she stands up and twirls around, making the dress flare out. A smile appears on her face and it’s like she’s a totally different girl. A much… younger girl.
“Hey.” Tamara steps out of the main work area and guards her eyes against the bright sun. “Can you help me for a moment?” She looks Lizzy over and then shoots me a meaningful glance. She knows it’s one of my designs, she’s seen enough of them to recognize one of them. But she doesn’t say anything.
“Sure.” I stand up and Lizzy nods as we follow Tamara.
Tamara walks to the corner with the white curtain that a lot of the photography students use to take pictures in front of. She stands in front of the curtain, her hands on her hips. “I need two models for some pictures for a new sculpture I’m making.”
“Eh.” Two models, that probably means something with touching, right? And I know that Lizzy hates that. I’m pretty sure that Tamara knows that too.
“What would we need to do?” Lizzy’s voice is small.
“I need Hunter to lift you up. It’s a bit ballet-slash-modern dance-like. It shouldn’t take long. Are you up for it?”
I look at Lizzy, who, after a few seconds, nods. Her whole body is tense, but she still agrees to do it. Brave.
“You two are my best choice for this, as I’m pretty sure that Hunter can lift you without much issue. Right?” Tamara looks at me.
“I guess. I’m still not sure what the plan is exactly.”
Tamara nods. “Let me make sure the camera is set up right, and I’ll tell you.” She grabs the camera from a chair and guides us to the middle of the curtains. “Just stand here.” She walks around us and fiddles with the settings on the machine. Then she comes back over to us. “Okay, so, what I want is for Hunter to lift you up, and Lizzy, you have to lean back. I want the line of your body to be an extension of Hunter’s arms. Does that make sense?”
I shrug and look at Lizzy.
Lizzy looks at the both of us, the uncertainty still in her eyes. “I guess we can try.”
I reach out to her, and she lets me put my hands on her waist. “You good?” I search her eyes for any discomfort, for any signs that she wants me to let her go.
Lizzy nods, though her body is tense in my hands. The little muscle she has is tightened and her body ready to fight. She meets my eyes and my heart starts to beat harder. There is such a vulnerability in her beautiful blue eyes, but also such a strength and determination. Her breath speeds up, but after a light frown, just a movement on her face, she forces it back under control. She is a force to be reckoned with, I don’t doubt that for a moment.
“Okay, Lizzy, if you step on Hunter’s knees, it will be easier for him to lift you up. Yeah?” Tamara breaks the spell and I let out a hard breath. Now Lizzy’s eyes won’t meet mine anymore, she just stares into nothingness.
I bend my knees somewhat, allowing a better surface for Lizzy to stand on. She starts to lean back in my arms, then she takes my shoulders and steps onto my knees, first one foot and then the other, slowly pushing herself up. She finds my eyes again, her breath controlled but her body straining. As she fully stands on my knees, she lets out one deep breath.
“Lean back.” The words are only whispered from my lips.
Lizzy doesn’t break eye contact as she nods and slowly lets go of my shoulders. She curves her spine and lets her head fall back. Then her arms slide down and all her weight is on me.
I slowly stretch my legs, pushing up, standing straight. I hold her waist tight and slowly I feel her trust in me grow, slowly she relaxes in my hold. It almost takes my breath away, how she can trust me like this, how she even exists in my life. Something stirs in my chest and I’m not sure if I even dare to explore it. I keep my eyes on her, trying to see if she is comfortable.
No, that’s a lie. I just can’t keep my eyes off her beauty, her strength, her power. This girl is pushing her own boundaries because someone she trusts asked her to, and she trusts me to not drop her. There is this force hiding in her small frame that I don’t think anyone can break.
Then why does she look so broken?
It takes me a moment before I realize Tamara is taking pictures of us, and when I feel Lizzy tense up even more I know she has also forgotten. The spell between us is broken, our private moment invaded by the sounds of a camera shutter. We stay as still as possible until the sounds stop.
“Thanks. You can put her back on the floor again.” Tamara speaks up as she steps away.
I bend my knees and Lizzy moves her feet until she is stable again. Then she lifts her head and looks at me. My breath catches at the emotions in her eyes. I pull her closer, giving her a better angle to get back down again. But she reaches out and wraps her arms around my neck, coming closer, pushing against me and hiding her face in the crook of my neck. I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her close and hold her tight.
Our breaths are ragged, my heart beats at an insane speed a
nd I’m scared I’ll crush her if I hold on even tighter, even though that’s the only thing I want to do. I put my head against her shoulder and smell her scent, a combination of orange, something sweet and the residue of paint. Having her here is the only thing on my mind—for the first time in forever, my mind is in a place of calm. That realization scares me.
As soon as our breaths have calmed down, I slowly let her slide down, putting her on her feet, and when she finally lets go of me, I immediately and acutely miss her touch.
She steps back, blinking, her hands shaking. She glances around and only then do I become aware that Tamara has left us alone. Lizzy opens her mouth, but no sounds come out. She shakes her head and tries again. “We—we can’t do this.” Her whole body shudders as she gasps, her eyes going watery.
“Lizzy…” I reach out, wanting to touch her again, comfort her. But as soon as I move, she flees.
Crap.
It takes a few more breaths before I dare to move, before I’m sure that I can actually function. What the hell just happened? I turn around. Back outside. I need some fresh air.
Outside, Tamara looks at me as I step through the door, her eyes hard, but also troubled.
“Don’t say anything.” I sit down on the couch and grab my pack of smokes.
“You can’t do this.” Tamara’s words are like fists to my stomach.
“Like I said. I don’t need you to tell me.” I light a cigarette and stare into space. Like I don’t know this is a bad idea, whatever this is. I’m no good, and I can’t bring her into my messed-up world.
I know that Tamara wants to say more, but quiet footsteps make us look up. Lizzy is standing in the doorway, her hand on the frame as she looks at the both of us.
Tamara smiles, her eyes on Lizzy. “He did well on the dress, right? I haven’t seen this particular design before, but it suits you perfectly.” Tamara turns to me. “You did an amazing job.” Then she frowns as I try to covertly sign for her to shut up. Lizzy doesn’t know, and she doesn’t have to.
Lizzy’s eyes go wide, then she moves her hands over the dress, the way it captures her form perfectly, the way that it’s the perfect length. “This design? You mean that he”—she licks her lips, her voice unsteady—“he didn’t just make it, he designed it?” She looks at me, betrayal and panic rising.
“I just… I only altered a pattern. No big deal.” I can’t look at her anymore. Not when I know I’ve betrayed her trust in me. She trusted me, she trusted that this was not a big deal. I lied to her, all for egotistical reasons. I knew she would never agree to wear it if she knew the truth.
“You made this for me? Specifically? It wasn’t that you needed a model, you needed me?” Her voice rises.
I squeeze my eyes shut as I nod.
Quick footsteps move away over the floor as Lizzy flees once again.
“I’m… I’m sorry. I thought she knew.” Tamara tries to talk to me, but I can’t do this. I stub out the cigarette and rush after Lizzy.
I find Lizzy in the hallway, her shoulders shaking, her back to me. “Lizzy?” I keep my voice quiet, careful.
“You can’t do this, Hunter. You can’t keep doing this.” Her voice shakes as much as her body.
“What can’t I do?” I want to touch her, comfort her, but I keep to myself.
“Treat me special, make me things, and then lie about it.” She looks up at me, her eyes and cheeks wet. Even when she’s upset with me, she looks stunning.
Of course I can, I’m a free man. But I guess she has a point too. We’re supposed to be friends, and I’m totally overstepping my boundaries here. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the right kind of girl for you.”
I bristle. Who is she to decide? But the look she gives me makes the words die in my mouth.
“I’m going to change out of this, you’re going to take it back, and we’ll never speak of it again.” She marches into the bathroom. Leaving me alone in the hallway. This girl is definitely a force to be reckoned with.
I thought that after Tessa, a girl would never look at me that way again—that combination of attraction and heartbreaking pain. A look that tells me that we need to stop doing this for our own good. That there is no way this will end well. That if we combine our dark pasts, we may never recover from it.
Chapter 9
Lizzy
After everything that happened on Monday, I ran out of the workshop and immediately went home. I didn’t even go to American lit. Again… And then yesterday, seeing Hunter in our advanced drawing class was weird—he was even early, something he never is. In this short amount of time, just these last few weeks, I’ve come to expect his short and clipped words, his dry humor. But I know this can’t happen. Not for him, not for me. We need some time apart before we can see how we can interact in a normal friendly way. It all went way too fast. So, instead of sitting at the same side of the room, I took a seat as far away from him as possible. It wasn’t easy and actually it was quite lonely, but I need to do this.
I don’t want a relationship. I don’t need one. They never end well. At some point people always figure out I have an eating disorder, and either it freaks them out or they get turned on by it. I’m not sure which of the two I hate more, to be honest. There is just so much weirdness going on in my life. I can’t use the distraction now. I need to move on, I need to keep going, I need to focus on college and my art. That is all.
When I come up the stairs for art history on Wednesday morning, Hanna loops her arm through mine, glaring at Hunter. His bruises haven’t gotten much better and I feel bad for constantly ignoring him. He looks… hurt, more in pain than he normally does.
When Hanna realizes that I’m not planning go over to him, she decides that I’ve become her very best friend. Her friendly chatter is exactly what I need. Girl talk. Talking about things to do, things to see. Just normal life.
Luckily I’m swamped in coursework, so between the two classes I’ve got today and all the homework, I’m kept quite busy.
“Let’s go to the library.” Hanna pulls me along as we leave the lecture hall before Hunter can even pack his bag.
I let out a sigh, but I guess it’s better than the cafeteria, which she wanted last week. I pull my bag up high as I follow her. We’ve got just over two hours before our literature class starts and I’m pretty sure I haven’t finished the homework yet.
Even when I decide not to be distracted by a guy, I still get distracted by not being distracted. By not wanting to be distracted.
I’m hopeless.
I’m tired—no, exhausted. I couldn’t sleep last night and my mind has been all over the place. All over the place but nowhere useful. I’m not sure what it is, or why, but something dark has taken over in my head and it doesn’t look like it’s going to go anywhere any time soon.
As soon as I reach the classroom for art history, Hanna waves at me to come join her. But to do that, I need to walk past Hunter’s desk. I take a deep breath, swallow it down and then start walking.
I try to keep my eyes on Hanna, on the place where I need to go, but still, when I pass Hunter’s desk, I can’t help but look up at him.
His eyes are dark and I see my own exhaustion reflected in them. He opens his mouth to say something, but I quickly avert my eyes and walk on. I don’t want to talk to him. I can’t.
“Morning.” I slide down in the chair next to Hanna.
“Morning.” She looks at me and then back to her phone. “It seems you and Hunter still aren’t talking.”
“Nope.” I try to keep my voice light, but I know I’m not fooling anyone.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Again, no.” I pull my books from my bag. “It’s not important.”
“And still, you haven’t talked to him all week. The same day you stop talking, he shows up with those bruises. You know, people start gossiping when that happens.”
I sigh. We’ve had this discussion before. “They have nothing to do with
each other.” Though the bruises are an extra reason not to talk to him. I can’t stand people who are aggressive, and he basically admitted to being an aggressive drunk. I’m not doing that again.
My face heats up at the memory of his face so close to mine and my hand on his cheek. Damn. Just thinking about Hunter makes my body react in ways I can’t even describe.
“It’s still suspicious.” Hanna eyes me. “Just like your reaction every time I say his name.”
“Stop looking at me.” I try to glare at her, but I can’t help smiling.
“Want to go somewhere after class?”
“Where?” I’ve got the afternoon off anyway, and I don’t want to hang out at the workshop after the week I’ve had. I think some time away from the workshop and Hunter is a good idea.
“I was thinking of going shopping. The weather will be getting colder soon and I don’t really have anything cute to wear.” She shrugs.
Shopping is safe, sort of. At least it’ll probably be more fun than trying not to run into Hunter. “Yeah, let’s.”
Hanna smiles, and then the professor comes into the room. An hour of making notes and listening to the professor talk about dead artists. Fun. I may be an artist, but I’ve never had much interest in art history. I start scribbling notes, because no matter how much I hate it, I’ll still have to know stuff for the exam.
As the class winds down, I stretch and look around. I immediately wish I hadn’t, as Hunter is looking right at me. My heart makes a little jump and I look away quickly. I pack my bag and stand up, grabbing the table for a moment as my head whooshes.
Hanna is next to me immediately. “You okay?” She reaches out for me, but I straighten my back and step away, smiling.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just stood up too quickly. You said something about going shopping?” I flash her my best smile.