When I open them again, I step in front of the blank canvas I have set up on the easel in my living room.
The thump of the bass rattles through my skull as I pick up a paintbrush. Holding it in my hand, I take a deep breath. Sometimes, I can look at the canvas and imagine. I can see each stroke of the brush, how the color will look, and how it’ll blend with the next. This time, I see nothing. Just a blank canvas.
There’s nothing dancing on the white, waiting for me to fill it with color, no urge inside me to cover it. I hate when I get in moods like this. As I said, the muse is a fickle bitch.
Fuck it.
I lay the paintbrush down, then fish my phone out of my pocket.
I open my messages, then type one to send Ben.
Me
This is Parker. Do you want to hang out tonight?
Chapter 5
Benson
Parker
This is Parker. Do you want to hang out tonight?
I barely have time to answer the message before more file in after it.
Parker
If not, it’s okay.
Parker
Really, don’t feel obligated.
Parker
Jesus, this is stupid.
I can’t help but smile. They’resomething else.
Me
Sure. My place or yours? I’m choosing to ignore everything after “do you want to hang out?”
I wait and wait and wait. It feels like a lifetime has passed when my phone finally buzzes with an incoming message.
Parker
Mine is fine.
Me
On my way.
I didn’t have plans anyway. I wanted to hang out with Landon, but he’s been strange the last couple of days. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was ignoring me. If it goes on for too much longer, I’m gonna have to ask him what’s going on.
Sure, I could be studying, but where’s the fun in that?
It’s starting to get cool at night. This is my least favorite time of year. You wake up in the morning with a bite to the air, but by the afternoon, you’re sweating bullets through your football gear, and then when the sun goes down, you’re shivering again.
