Brush Strokes

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Brush Strokes Page 12

by Janelle Stalder


  “Mr. Morgan,” Mr. Norton called from behind me. “Office. Now.”

  “We’re going, we’re going, sir,” Rannon said, popping up out of nowhere. He nodded at the group of girls. “Ladies.” Then he grabbed my arm and dragged my ass out of there. Thank God he did too, because I wasn’t sure if I could walk away from her of my own will.

  “You have it so bad dude, it’s borderline pathetic.”

  “Shut up,” I said, pulling my arm from his grasp. I ran my hands through my hair, stopping to lean up against the wall while I tried to regain some semblance of control before I had to face Ms. Kelly.

  “So Olivia chose to sit with Jake over you, huh?” Rannon said casually, standing in front of me.

  My head fell back against the wall and I stared up at the ceiling. “Yup.”

  “And you’re legitimately mad about it.” It was more a statement than question but I answered anyway.

  “Furious is more accurate.”

  He barked out a laugh, shaking his head at me when I looked back at him. “Dude, this girl has you tied up in knots. What happened to you not being good enough for her and keeping your distance? Wasn’t that the whole plan all summer? First day of school and you’re already going back on your word?”

  “I can’t help it,” I said, rubbing a hand down my face. “There’s just something about her. I don’t know how to explain it. And then she goes and sits with that asshole over me. That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t bailed all summer on her.” I shook my head, clenching my fists tightly at my sides. “I royally fucked up.”

  Rannon walked up beside me and threw his arm around my shoulder, forcing me to walk toward the office. “Well, buddy, it’s a good thing we have all year to fix it then.”

  “What happened?”

  I stared at Ms. Kelly from across the desk, arms folded across my chest. “I was offended by something one of my friends said,” I answered plainly.

  “It was one of your friends this time?” she asked in surprise. “Honestly, Colt. Why do you do these things?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe you should tell him not to be such an idiot and I wouldn’t feel the need to correct him when he says idiotic things.”

  She shook her head. “That attitude is not going to work this year, Colt. We already had this discussion at the end of last year, remember? If you want to graduate, you need to focus and stay out of trouble, especially if we’re going to look at the possibility of college for you afterward.”

  I laughed. “Ms. Kelly, we both know I’m not going to college.”

  “You never know,” she argued. “Certainly not with that attitude you’re not. There are lots of local colleges that you can apply to. We just need to get those scores of yours up.”

  “Even if I did have the right marks,” I said, “I wouldn’t be able to afford it. Let’s not move from the realm of optimism to complete fantasy.”

  She leaned back in her chair giving me that disapproving look that brought wrinkles between her eyes. Ms. Kelly was young to be a guidance councillor. I’d peg her at early thirties, but I wasn’t quite sure. She dressed like a grandma though, always in button-up shirts, cardigans and pearls around her neck. Her blonde hair was constantly pulled into a tight bun. I could tell she genuinely cared about us students though, so I tried not to give her too hard of a time. Most of the time.

  “There are ways around that too, Colt. You know that. Scholarships, grants, things like that.” She held up her hand to stop me from speaking when I opened my mouth to argue further. “We can discuss this all closer to the end of the year. For now, we need to focus on getting your grades up, attendance needs to be consistence, and for heaven’s sakes no more fighting. It can’t be that hard to not punch someone on a daily basis.”

  “You’d be surprised,” I said.

  She grunted, rummaging through the files on her desk until she found mine. I could only image what it said inside that thing about me. Actually, I’d rather not.

  “In order to make up some of the credits you lost last year, we need you to start taking part in extra-circular activities. Volunteering for something extra in the school will help, and looks great on your college applications.” She held her hand out to me again, silencing me. “Just humour me for now, please. Here is a list of some things going on around here that need volunteers,” she said, handing me a paper. “Take a look and see if there’s anything that might interest you.”

  My eyes scanned the list, mentally crossing out each line as I went, until I landed on the second last item. A smile slowly stretched across my face. “What about this?” I asked, pointing to the line.

  “Well that would certainly be easy enough for you,” she said dryly. “It requires you to stay back an hour after school each day. Are you okay to do that?”

  I went over my schedule at the shop in my head. “An hour shouldn’t be a problem,” I said.

  “Great, I’ll let the teacher know.”

  Anticipation and excitement filled me at this turn of events. If Olivia wanted to give me the cold shoulder and ignore me, I was going to make it as difficult as I could. And I was going to enjoy every second of it.

  Thirteen

  Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” ― Thomas Merton

  Olivia

  After a decent sleep I thought maybe the second day of school would be better. Silly me. Walking into science the next morning, I made a point to keep my eyes on the floor so I didn’t get caught in Colt’s gaze. I knew he was already sitting in his seat even though I didn’t look. My body seemed to sense whenever he was near and his location like some sort of Colt Morgan GPS system.

  I quickly walked down to my table thinking I was almost safe. I was so close. So very close. And then things just got worse – epically.

  “Ollie!” a voice squealed in a tone that should be illegal in the morning in all states. I looked up to see Reagan sitting at Colt’s table. I stopped dead in my tracks, my brain trying to play catch up. She didn’t have this class did she?

  Reagan had been fairly nice to me the day before, but I knew it was only because she was up to something. You couldn’t trust Reagan. No one who tanned that much and wore frosted lipstick can ever really be trusted to look out for anyone but themselves.

  The fact that she was A - here, and B - called me Ollie made me want to smack her, but I smiled instead. My gaze shifted unwillingly to Colt for some sort of answer, but he stared back at me with a slightly smug smile hovering on his lips. Now I wanted to smack him.

  “Hey, Reagan,” I said slowly. “Are you in this class now?” Please say no, please say no.

  "Yeah I just switched," she said glancing over at Colt with a flirty smile. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.

  "Great..." I said with a weak smile. Colt's stupid grin spread wider. I hated that he was amused by this. He knew exactly how I felt about Reagan.

  Taking my seat, I studiously ignored them both as I got my books out. Reagan giggled at something Colt said that I couldn't hear except for the deep, soothing rumble of his voice. Rolling my eyes, I fished out a pencil from my backpack and waited patiently for Mr. Norton to arrive. The giggling continued like an evil form of torture. It was five minutes into class and I already want to murder her or myself; either or.

  "Oh my God, Colt, you're so funny," she gushed.

  The pencil in my hand snapped in two. I looked down, surprised that I had it in me, but considering my motivation right then, it wasn't really all that shocking.

  "Need another pencil, Olivia?"

  I looked over at Colt, who had spoken. His lips twitched as I glared at him. “Do you need a pencil?” I shot back, eyeing his empty desk. “Or even a notebook, backpack, anything that would suggest you’re a student here.”

  He tapped the side of his head. “I keep it all up here,” he said.

  I snorted. “Well that explains a lot.”

  “You two are so funny,” Reagan said with a forced laugh. She le
aned forward so my view of him was blocked.

  “Morning, Olivia,” Jake said as he dropped into his seat. I actually breathed a sigh of relief that he was there. At least he could distract me from the giggle-fest beside me.

  “Hey, Jake,” I said with a bit more enthusiasm than was necessary. It was in no means a reaction to what was happening at the other table.

  He smiled broadly at me and I cringed a little at the hopeful glint in his eye. “I brought you something from the cafeteria,” he said, reaching into his bag. “The lunch ladies gave me an extra one,” he explained, dropping a small carton of milk on my side of the table.

  Fact, I hate white milk. Chocolate? Send it my way. Just plain milk? No thanks. Unless it’s in cereal or tea, I don’t like drinking it. Ever since I went to a farm on a school trip in grade two, and saw the farmer milking a cow, I realized I could no longer stomach drinking a liquid that came out of a giant nipple. Call me a prude all you want, but it’s not happening. Why is chocolate milk any better? It’s not, I just like anything chocolate.

  “Thanks,” I said, staring down at the offensive carton.

  “Olivia only drinks chocolate milk.”

  I turned my head to see Colt leaning forward, focused on Jake. How the hell did he even know that? I wanted to snap at him to shut up and mind his own business, but I couldn’t seem to find the words past the shock that he knew something else about me. First the art award, now my love for chocolate milk?

  “Good to know,” Jake said lightly, not missing a beat. He grabbed the milk back before I could say anything. “I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.” He winked at me, dropping the milk back into his bag. I wanted to argue so he didn’t think I was unappreciative, but I really didn’t want to have to drink it so I kept my mouth shut.

  Thankfully Mr. Norton came in – late again – so I could go back to ignoring Colt and his bimbo sidekick. The rest of the class went by with us doing lab work at our stations. Jake sat on his stool the entire time, texting someone while I did our work. If that wasn’t bad enough, I had the giggle monster behind me on repeat. I felt like I was sitting next to tickle me Elmo, except I couldn’t take the batteries out of this one. When the bell rang to signal the end of the period I almost cried in relief. Grabbing all my stuff, I rushed out of the room keeping my face forward. I’d just gotten out into the hall when a body appeared beside me.

  “You’re awfully anxious to get to your next class,” Colt said, matching my stride. We walked down the hall side-by-side, garnering some unwanted attention. Multiple people stopped mid-conversation to stare at us and it only pissed me off more.

  Stopping suddenly, I spun to face him, poking a finger in his chest. “You’re pissing me off today.”

  He laughed, his hands held up either side of him. “I haven’t done anything,” he said through his laughter.

  “How did you know I like chocolate milk instead of regular milk?”

  The grin that spread across his face had my stomach rolling. He shoved his hands in the back of his pants, rocking on his heels. I couldn’t stop myself from looking at that smile and the way his lip ring wrapped around the full bottom lip of his mouth. Damn him and his stupid ring, and his stupid silver eyes, and his stupid hair and the way it always looks messy but good, and those stupid tattoos and stupid muscles.

  “Are you impressed by my knowledge?” he said.

  I gave myself a quick mental shake, forcing myself to stop checking him out right in front of him. “I’m impressed by your stalking capabilities,” I replied dryly.

  He chuckled, taking a step forward, decreasing the space between us. I instantly took a step back.

  “Maybe I just pay very good attention,” he said, letting his eyes drop down the front of me and then slowly lifting them back up. I didn’t miss the way they paused at certain parts of me. The anger that had been simmering all period spiked at his blatant perusal of me. I didn’t want to look too closely at why I was so angry. The idea that I could possibly, in some small manner, be jealous that he was now going to sit with Reagan all semester was simply outrageous, and I didn’t even want to consider it.

  “Yeah, I got that impression from all the giggling I had to hear all period,” I snapped, my anger boiling over. Not jealous. Not. Jealous.

  The look on his face was a pleased one, and I didn’t like it one bit. He took another step forward forcing me to step back again. I hit the wall, out of room as he took yet another step toward me. Our chests were only inches apart. I knew people were probably staring at us. Colt was the type to always attract attention and now I was going to be part of the rumours that were bound to be going around already. It took .5 seconds for the school body to start talking.

  Colt was completely unfazed by it. Even though I knew people were probably already taking note, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, and I wasn’t quite sure which was which at this point. He leaned forward, his lips right beside my ear. I held my breath, knowing that if I let it out I would brush against him and I didn’t think I could handle physically touching him at this point.

  “You’re starting to sound jealous, Olivia,” he said softly. “That wouldn’t be the case, would it?”

  I snorted. “Hardly.”

  “Good,” he said, pulling back to look at me. “I’d hate for you to regret your decision to sit with that cocky, loser jock.”

  I tilted my head to the side. “Why, Colt, you’re starting to sound jealous. That wouldn’t be the case, would it?”

  He smiled, his eyes bright with emotions I didn’t want to face in the middle of school. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to face them at all after his actions this summer. Gathering my wits, I straightened, forcing Colt to take a tiny step back.

  “Oh wait, never mind,” I said with a sweet smile, “I forgot, I have nothing to worry about, right? I know that now. Absolutely nothing to worry about.”

  His smile quickly vanished. Guilt washed over his face but I didn’t care. Good, I thought. I hope he feels guilty for saying that then disappearing. Maybe he never meant those words the way I understood them. It was possible. Maybe I was to blame. But that didn’t change the way it hurt me. It didn’t change the fact that I didn’t trust him not to simply walk away from me again, without a look back.

  He took another step and I saw my chance to get away. “I have to get to my next class,” I said lamely as the tension between us built. I didn’t wait for him to speak. I hadn’t made it far when I heard him call out.

  “See you later, Olivia,” he said.

  Not if I can help it, I thought.

  I spent the rest of the day constantly looking over my shoulder and around corners. For some reason, Colt’s parting words had me on edge. It felt like I was being hunted. It was a strange and exhilarating feeling even though I’d told myself repeatedly that I did not want to see him again. In fact, I wanted nothing to do with him. That didn’t stop me for looking for him in the halls or at lunch. I’d thought for sure that was when he’d pounce, but neither he nor Rannon had been at lunch.

  I’d worked myself up just to end up sitting with Ella and the other girls as they talked about things I couldn’t care less about. Reagan went on and on and on about Colt during Science and how funny he was. Jenn gushed that they were( insert bimbo voice) like totally meant to be. Gag.

  Thankfully the day was over and I could stop thinking about him. Even though I was still thinking about him…or thinking about not thinking about him. Damn. This wasn’t working at all.

  I walked through the empty halls toward the art room. Mrs. Hart was letting some of us work on a special class project after hours. I was so excited to just lose myself in painting. There was going to be a model coming in who agreed to pose for the class. Painting the human form was difficult but I loved the challenge. And I knew Mrs. Hart had complete faith that I’d ace this project.

  Walking into the room, I saw a couple of other people from my class and some others
that must have been from Mrs. Hart’s other classes. Not everyone had to take part in this, so I wasn’t surprised to see only those who were actually good at art.

  I was surprised by what I saw next. Standing in the middle of the room, on a small platform, was Colt. He was talking to Mrs. Hart but I couldn’t hear what they were saying from where I’d frozen just inside the room. What was he doing here? Why, when I’d finally let down my defences, did he just pop up again?

  As though he felt my eyes on him, Colt looked up to meet my gaze. A slow smile stretched across his face as we stared at each other before he looked back down at Mrs. Hart. Seriously, what the heck was going on?

  Forcing myself to move, I walked to an empty easel, set up my paints and canvas, and sat on the stool to wait for Mrs. Hart to address the class. She turned and smiled and for once I didn’t feel like smiling back. This lady was now my enemy for bringing him into my sanctuary.

  “Hello everybody,” she said happily. “I’m so glad to see so many of you have decided to dedicate some time after school hours to get this assignment done.” She turned and smiled at Colt. When he smiled back I had to fight the urge to roll my eyes. As if he was really that excited to be here. Ugh.

  “Today we welcome Mr. Colt Morgan who has volunteered to be the model for our human form paintings. Remember, you can paint them in any style you want, but try to represent the model as best you can.”

  I guess drawing him as a big, fat, and ugly ogre was out of the question. Unfortunate.

  She turned to measure up Colt, one hand on her chin. “Since this is school, I can’t very well ask you to pose nude like I would normally do, so let’s go with just shirtless.”

  Let’s not! I wanted to scream those words, but I doubt I would have even been heard over the catcalls filling the room. I literally started panicking. Could I really sit here and just stare at a half-naked Colt Morgan?

 

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