Before he could finish his words, laughs rang from the front door, echoing through the corridor. Footsteps sounded as shadows danced along the back wall. Soon enough Daisy appeared in the doorway, staring out at all of us.
“Hey guys.” Her smile was electric as she shifted, her arm making way for something. “Have any of you met Bodhi, from the band?”
Just then a tall boy with dusty blonde hair and beach-blue eyes peered round the corner. He was pretty in the Greek god kind of way. High cheekbones, round eyes, a prominent jaw and long lashes from what I could see.
He lifted his hand and smiled. “Hi guys.”
We all muttered hi back to him, and before the awkward silence and un-naming of the obvious swallowed the entire house, I cleared my throat. “We’re ordering from The Ugly Dumpling; do you guys want anything?”
Daisy bounced on her toes, her bright blonde curls doing the same. “Oh, we’re good. We grabbed bagels from Sal’s.”
The silence stretched again before Daisy looked around, and I knew the moment they landed on a certain someone because they widened every time she looked at him.
I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift to Jess. And he’s just watching her. Blank face. Slightly parted mouth. Which isn’t that weird for Jesse either; he’s pretty stoic. Extra stoic when it comes to Daisy, though.
I only broke my stare when Daisy cleared her throat. “Anyway, see you later.”
Bodhi shone the room with his smile as he backed out. “Nice to finally meet you guys.”
And then their footsteps went up the stairs, and I’m pretty sure none of us breathed until we heard her bedroom door shut. I settled back into the armchair and let my gaze wash around the room for all of three seconds before looking back at Jess, standing there like an arrow had been shot right through his heart.
I never did ask Dais what happened after they disappeared at the gallery. My mind was too busy hating Marcus to do anything else that day but brood and drown my thoughts in Tesco’s own vodka.
Clearly something had happened, because these two were inseparable, and clearly very in love. Seeing them this… whatever this was now… wasn’t normal. I didn’t like it. And it was beyond obvious that Jess didn’t either.
Made clearer by how he shuffled from his spot on the floor, mumbled something to Finn and walked out of the roomwithout saying another word, the front door slamming shortly after.
“Okay, what the fuck was that?” Tristan asked, his hand flexed in the direction of the door.
All of us shrugged. And I wondered if we ever would get to the bottom of those two.
Then we ordered dinner, ate dinner, and just before the idea of going to Gigi’s was presented, I snuck upstairs and shut my door, deciding to tackle my other problem right now.
I needed three pieces for the Nouvelle Gala in October. Which, now that August had come around, was only two months away. And sure, you might think that’s plenty of time for a normal artist to paint a hundred paintings, let alone three. But if you’ve read up until now, you should know that I’m not a normal artist. I’ve finished one piece since the new year, and that was what I painted after my first kiss with Marcus.
But still, even though that first hurdle was miles behind me now, there were more dead ahead, thousands more, and I knew it was going to take more than just letting myself feel and Stevie Nicks to jump over them.
But I had to try.
My mug was steaming, and I was in the middle of “Gold Dust Woman” when I worked up the courage to select a colour palette. I went for a true midnight blue from my metallics, a pale gold and a black laced with tiny specks of glitter. And that was about as far as I’d let myself get.
It was weird how hard I found painting now. It was like breaking your arm only for it to heal in slow motion. I neverhad to mentally prepare myself before, but now I needed an hour tops to stop Jamie’s face from projecting in my mind’s eye and for that sinking feeling to leave my gut.
I thought tonight was going to end like the rest, with my paints dried out and me crying because I couldn’t find it in me to do more than set things up. But just as my song was dying down, I heard something. A patter. Multiple patters, actually.
I pulled my headphones off and looked around, my ears straining to hear the sound. When it sounded again, my head whipped to the window, just in time to see another round of tiny rocks being pelted at it. And when I slowly got up and wandered over, the slight fear that was building in my chest fell away like it had never been there. Because sat in his open window, directly across from mine, only a fire escape between us, was Marcus.
I was smiling before I knew it, before my mind told me to smile. But I always smiled when I saw him. Well, now I did. And right now I couldn’t remember why I’d once looked at him and thought it appropriate to scowl.
I shook my head as I took my window off its latch, lifting the thing open. Perching my body on the edge, I leaned out, the last of the sun hitting my face. “Rocks? Really?”
He shrugged, his simple white tee scrunching under him, as his wide smirk lifted.
I sniggered. “Did the spirit of John Cusack possess you?”
His face pulled, the way it did when he was about to prove me wrong. “He had a boom box, not rocks.”
Confusion slapped me. “I fell asleep and never made it to the end of the movie.” My eyes widened. “He threw a boom box through some girl’s window?”
