She nods and shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. Just finally eighteen.”
“Hey.” I take her chin in my hand and make her look at me. “It’s a huge deal. We’ll celebrate. Okay? I’ll take you for cake. I know a great place.”
Her face lights up and she nods. The little cloud that formed has passed, and I vow to do that for the rest of our lives. To push away her clouds and make sure she’s only seeing sunshine.
We finish lunch and walk to art class together, and I can see the change in Lily once we get there. There’s a look of excitement in her eyes as the teacher talks about what we’ll be working on today. She asks us to do a charcoal sketch of the statue in front of us, and I set up my easel next to Lily. She beams over at me as she takes the dark stick and begins to draw right away. I’m not really that good at art, but I try as best as I can and do a pretty decent job. The statue is of a woman wrapped in a cloak, so the curves and shading are difficult. I’m sure if I’d taken art any time during my four years of high school I’d understand what I was doing. As it is, this is my first time, but I muddle through.
I glance over at Lily a few times, but she’s deep in concentration. I love to watch her face as she draws and see the focus she puts into her work.
By the time the hour is up, the teacher calls for us to stop and examines what we’ve done. I can’t see Lily’s from where I’m sitting, but I see the teacher come up behind her and her eyes spark.
“Miss?”
“Parker. Lily Parker. I’m a transfer student.”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Bennett says and looks over her drawing. “My dear, you have an extraordinary talent. I look forward to the next class.” She gives my paper a cursory glance before the bell rings and everyone packs up.
I walk over to where Lily is sitting and see the breathtaking sketch she’s drawn. It’s so lifelike, I feel like it could climb off the paper. “Wow, that’s incredible,” I say, and I mean every word of it. She’s gifted.
“Thank you,” Lily says, looking it over. “I love art.”
“You’re amazing.” I look into her eyes when I say it and see her blush again.
Taking her hand, I pull her from the room, and we stop by my locker to grab out coats before heading out to my Jeep. When I pick her up and put her in the truck, I give her a quick kiss. “Buckle up, babe. We’re headed to the hardware store.”
13
Lily
“I have a feeling my mom might show up tonight,” Ren says, glancing over at me from the driver’s seat. He pulls out of the school parking lot and heads towards the hardware store. We get to leave early, and I’m grateful it will give me more time to work before I need to get home.
“Okay.” I push a lock of hair behind my ear. I knew his parents owned the hardware store, but I hadn’t really thought about meeting them.
“She’s supposed to work at the hospital today, but knowing my mom she won’t be able to help herself and she’ll show up tonight to see you.” He gives me a half-smile, like you know how moms are.
“Because she wants to meet the new girl at the hardware store, or because—”
“’Cause you're mine,” he says, cutting me off. I glance over at him again. His eyes are on me while we sit at a red light.
“Like boyfriend and girlfriend?” I ask. That’s what it’s called, right? I haven’t had a boyfriend since the fourth grade, and it only lasted through one recess and ended because I tagged him out in kickball. Johnny pulled one of my pigtails and called me a runt. I’d always been the smallest in my grade, and I figured that meant we were over. I didn’t play kickball anymore after that.
Ren reaches over, grabbing my hand and pulling it to his lap. “Whatever you want to call it, babe.”
“You like calling me that.” Ren rub little circles on my wrist with his thumb as he takes off when the light turns green.
“You don’t like it?”
“I do.”
“Good, because I don’t think I can stop. It just sort of comes out with you.”
“You’re so sweet to me.” I look over at him again, unable to stop myself. I'm always looking anywhere but at people, hoping they don't notice me, but not with him. I love when he sees me. A small blush hits his cheeks, and that makes me smile. I’ve been doing that all day with him. I can’t remember that last time I smiled this much. I bet my face will hurt tomorrow. He doesn’t look like someone you’d call sweet, but he is. Nor does he look like someone who would blush, for that matter.
“Another thing that seems to happen around you, too.”
“I know the feeling. I don’t care much to talk to people, and here I am. I barely know you and I’m in your car chatting away.”
“Keep going. I want to know more about you.”
I shrug. I don’t really want to talk about me. I’d rather talk about the moment, or maybe the future, but I know I’ll have to give him something. “It’s just my dad and me. I moved here from Brentwood.”
“Brentwood. That two hours south of here, right?”
“Yep.” I don’t tell him I was barely even there. That before Brentwood it was Greenville, Clinton, Franklin, and my hometown of Madison. I might have missed one. Who knows? It all blends together into a mess I really don’t want to try and clear up. I want to forget.
“Your mom?” He squeezes my hand when I give him a sad look. “You lost her when you got that scar?”