He’s not just asking to be polite, he’s curious. Is it just me or is he closer?
“I sell my illustrations in the form of greeting cards and postcards around town. Your class is my last class, so I go around town distributing them to the various shops which sell them. It tends to pick up more around this time of year.”
“So you’ve got a business.”
"Not a very successful one. I mean, it's great during this time of the year, but I haven't been able to reach full-time with this. I do a lot of other jobs to sustain myself."
"And does that mean it's not successful? You talk about it so fondly, it seems successful to me. Not every metric of success is related to money. Of course, that's not what we teach in our classes. Don't you enjoy it?"
“Yes… I love to do it because I get to draw places from Hope Peak. There’s nothing wrong with regular greeting cards, but I like that each of mine has a little of Hope Peak in them, you know?”
He looks to his left as if he’s remembering something.
“Did you draw a happy birthday greeting card with Hope Peak mountains behind it? And did it say, ‘You’ve reached your peak, it’s all downhill from here?’”
“That's one of my bestsellers! You’ve seen it?”
“My sister gave it to me on my last birthday. The card still sits on my nightstand. I framed it. It was such a beautiful illustration of Hope Peak. She's given me a few of these in the past few years, but that was my favorite.”
My cheeks turn red, his thick voice accompanying his compliment doing things to me I’d rather not confess. I don’t dare to look at him, focusing my attention on his right broad shoulder instead.
“Thank God the joke was on the back of the card, it’d have ruined it. I don’t need to be reminded that I’ve reached my peak.”
Something in his tone makes me meet his gaze.
“Isn’t that a good thing? That you’re the best you ever were.”
“But also the best I’ll ever be.”
“Don’t you think it’s possible to just continue being your best?”
“No.”
“Well, I disagree. I think there’s a reason everyone is interested in your love life.”
He shifts uncomfortably, as if it's not something he wants to hear. "You know what I mean, I'm sure you know the effect you have on other people with your physique and all."
I wave my hand in his direction.
He grabs my wrist. It's sudden, his big warm hand around my wrist, the heat that radiates from it, my insides churning and turning, not knowing what to do, how to react.
I look into his eyes, I can see a darkness that wasn't there before. He lets go a second later, his mouth turning downwardbefore in a flat tone he says: "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep. Have a good night."
He turns his back to me, not watching me anymore. Disappointment floods me before realizing I haven't asked my question yet.
Chapter 5 - Blake
What was I thinking? Touching her? Who do I think I am? I'm clearly too tired to think straight and keep myself in check.
She looked terrified, as though she wanted to run away from me.
Of course, she’s terrified. She's laying down next to a guy who's her teacher, fifteen years older than her, in a gym she can't get out of. Of course, she'd be terrified of someone grabbing her.
The thought of making her feel unsafe around me claws into my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
But with my back turned, it's easier to think. To calm down. When we learned we were locked in, I focused on the tasks: find gym mattresses, get something that would function as blankets, but now we're still, so close to each other, my control is slowly slipping away.
I wanted to touch her, so I did.
