I jumped, turning to face the loud noise.
An enormous truck—and eighteen-wheelerif I remember my Earth lessons correctly—swerved into the other lane of traffic to avoid hitting me.
“Get off the road, you stupid jackass,” yelled a heavily bearded man through his open window.
Realizing my blunder, I hastily dashed to the parking area, my heart beating double time.
“Drayven? What…what are you doing here?” Gerri’s firm, sultry voice pulled me out of my shock. “Were you standing in the middle of the road?”
Oh Gods. This is not how I planned to reintroduce myself.
I swiveled and met her gaze, unable to form a coherent thought. Her eyes, a rich mahogany, lasered me with intense focus.
“Uh.” I reached upward and touched a horn. “I-I decided to visit this city called Barkley.”
“At seven o’clock in the morning?” She tucked the paintbrush she held behind her ear. “You aren’t following me, are you?” Her gaze narrowed and her mouth tightened.
Lying had never been my strength. “No. Well, perhaps.”How do I get out of this?
She descended the two rungs of the ladder to the ground, pivoted toward me, and put her hands on her hips. Her stare changed from curious to guarded.“Why?”
I extended my hand. “Please. I am not what you would call a caper. I just needed to see you again.”
“It’s called being acreeper.” Her lips flattened to the point of invisibility. “And that’s just not good enough. Saying you wanted to see me again after last night, when it wasyouwho stumbled on my camp, is giving me major stalker vibes.” She scanned the area behind me. “I’m about this close—” She held her fingers near each other. “—to screaming my damn head off.”
“I do not wish you any harm, Gerri. Honestly, I am perplexed myself. There is something here, in my chest, telling me I need you, and perhaps you need me.” My cheeks burned. I had never spoken this openly about my feelings to anyone. “Now, I understand coming here was a mistake.” Sighing, I turned and started walking back toward the field, mentally scolding myself for not being more discreet, for even going on this wild chase instead of staying on Mars, overseeing the next phase of the multigenerational ship.
She cleared her throat. “Drayven, do you still want to learn how to paint?”
I froze. “Yes.”
“Then get over here before I change my mind.”
Without another word, I reversed my course and trotted back, afraid she would change her mind.
She pointed to the area where she’d been painting. “Stand there and we’ll start the trees. The new owner wants this mural to reflect the wilderness of the area, so I’ll start you on straight lines and we’ll go from there.”
I moved to the front of the blank wall.
She bent, popped the top off a can much larger than last night’s beer, and poured brown paint into a red plastic cup, then handed it to me. “As tall as you are, you won’t need the ladder. Dip the brush like this.” She pushed a brush into her own cup, then turned and touched the wall. “Use a light touch at the top, this will keep the tips pointy, then steadily apply more pressure as you drag it straight down, forming the thicker part of the trunk.”
My mind reeled at how quickly the situation had changed.Maybe she senses it, too, that we are meant to be together.Realizing I still stood in shock, I mimicked her movements, then touched the brush to bricks. Paint dribbled down, so I chased it with the bristles.
Once I reached the foundation, I stood and gave mytreea quick view.
It is horrible.Where her line started thin and broadened to the ground, mine looked like a squiggly snake.
She snickered. “Well, it’s a start. Here. Let me show you what I mean.” Stepping next to me, she grasped my fingers. “Let’s try another one, but without so much force.”
This close, she smelled wonderful, yet I did not have a name for it. Though I was aware of many things about humans from reading their books and internet, I had never smelled their world, except for the things others brought from scouting missions. Her fingers on my wrist caused tiny shocks of pleasure to course through my nerves.
With firm pressure, she pulled my wrist downward. “This is the amount of force you should use, and don’t pause. It’s just onecontinuous line straight down. Most pine trunks are relatively straight.”
“Mm-hmm.” Words failed me. I wanted her to continue touching me. I wanted to paint a thousand tress with her fingers on my wrist. I wanted to show my true self to her, to hear her voice in my ear for the rest of my life.
She motioned me to bend down with her.
When we both squatted, she glanced over her shoulder at me. “You can blend the drips horizontally to make them part of the ground.”
