She doesn’t know I hardly sleep. I nod toward the TV screen. “That looks old.”
She laughs. “A game show from the seventies.” She unmutes the TV and we watch for a little bit, not saying much to one another. My grandmother is really into this. It sucks that we don’t know each other, but a part of me is happy we’re strangers. Like I keep telling myself, I’m happiest when I’m alone.
But at the same time, my grandma is the only family I have left. The only connection to my dad.
I don’t know how much time passes before my grandmother says good night and leaves to her room. I’m left with the TV on and a contestant jumping up and down because she won five thousand bucks.
I shut it and drag myself to my room. Grandma lives in a small house, with one floor, one bathroom, two bedrooms and a living/dining room. I’m used to it. Mom, Dad, and I never lived in luxury anyway. But that house was my home. Now it’s gone along with them.
I squeeze my fingers into fists as I grab my pajamas and head to the bathroom to shower. Then I’m lying on my bed, hands underneath my head as I stare at the wall.
Everything that happened this past month hits me at once, starting with the fire and ending with the dance. I don’t let myself wander to the former. It’ll just break me even more. So I think about Artemis and what it felt like to hold her in my arms. She was so soft and warm. When we slow danced that first time, I forgot for a second who I was and what I’ve been through. Then when that guy banged into us, it all came crashing down on me.It’s why I pulled away from her.
Same way I pulled away when she asked me go to the festival with her tomorrow. I should have never started with the whole dance thing. Now all I think about is how good it felt to hold her, be close to her. It’d be nice for me to…
I shove those thoughts away. No. I need to keep my distance. Need to forget about her.
***
I’m usually up all night because of the accident, but now I’m awake for another reason. And that’s all because of a girl with shiny brown hair and beautiful green eyes.
I don’t know why I can’t get her out of my head.
The hours pass and sunlight shines into my room. Time to get my butt out of bed and forget…whatever this weird feeling means.
It’s Saturday, an excuse to sleep in, but that’s the last thing I want to do. Grabbing my art stuff, I start on a new painting.
“Ryan? Do you want to go to the festival with me tomorrow and Sunday?”Artemis’s words ring in my head.
I drop my brush, running my hand through my hair, not caring that I’m getting paint all over it. Why can’t I just forget about her? Why can’t I forget that look on her face when I told her no?
Drawing isn’t doing a good job at helping me forget her. Because when I sit back to look at what I’ve drawn, I see a girl in a short, blue, sparkly dress. She has no face, but it doesn’t take an idiot to figure out who the owner of that dress is.
Getting to my feet, I leave my room and meet Grandma in the kitchen, where she’s making breakfast. My grandmother never sleeps in. Is always up at the crack of dawn either baking, cooking, gardening, or reading her books.
“Morning, Ryan,” she greets.
“Morning.” I plop down on a chair at the table.
“You hungry?”
I shake my head. Those thoughts consuming me aren’t giving a lot of room for an appetite right now.
I turn to face her. “Do you know anything about a festival?”
She smiles. “Of course. River Spring holds a festival every year to commemorate the founding families of our town.”
“Do you go?”
She gestures toward the oven. “Why do you think I’ve been up since four making cookies? The kids look forward to my special chocolate chip cookies every year. Last year, they emptied me out before I even had a chance to put them on the table.” Her eyes soften. “Do you think you’ll be up to going? I know your parents’ deaths have been hard on you…” Her voice chokes up as she runs a shaky hand through her gray hair, averting her gaze.
I can’t look at her, either. “I don’t want to go,” I say in a low voice.
“Why do I get the feeling that’s not true?”
I slowly turn to her. She has some sort of expression on her face, like she knows something I don’t. I hope she doesn’t think I’m making friends and being social. That’s the last thing I want.
Yet, why can’t I get those striking green eyes and sweet smile out of my head?
