Wordlessly, we throw the ball back and forth a few times before I make a time-out signal. Tucking the football under his arm, he strolls over to me.
‘I didn’t realise you were running again.’
I shrug. ‘Trying to get back to my old self.’
‘How are you doing with everything?’ Zayden asks, raking a hand through his mop of dirty-blond hair. He rests his foot on the bottom step of the porch and starts lightly tossing up the ball and catching it.
‘I don’t know,’ I answer honestly. ‘Some days I’m totally fine. Some days I’m really sad.’ Clearing my throat, I survey the yard and gaze out to the road. ‘And you?’
Zayden nods. ‘Much the same, I guess. Trying to keep myself busy and distracted. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.’
‘That’s the best thing to do.’
‘Mase is worried about you,’ he says.
I whip my head to face him, surprised. ‘He said that?’
Zayden nods. ‘Worried about you and Kai Adams.’
I’m surprised Mason raised this concern with Zayden, since the topic of me can be quite sensitive between them, especially when it comes to dating.
‘Is he now?’ I deadpan.
‘We hear and see shit that you don’t,’ Zayden points out. ‘He’s a total douche. But I said to Mason that it’s up to you to make your own choices.’
I straighten, widening my eyes at my brother. Since when is he reasonable?
‘Just be careful.’
Smiling, I reach out and touch his arm. ‘I will.’
After I’ve showered and dressed for the day, I set up in a spot in the backyard that’s sheltered by a giant chestnut tree. Sitting with my legs folded beneath me, I spread my paint supplies out across the rug and place a blank canvas in front of me. One of my upcoming assignments makes up a huge part of my grade, and the top three students get the chance to have their art featured in an exhibition. I’m working with a few ideas and have been trying to figure out exactly what I want to paint.
As I swipe my paintbrush over the canvas, I feel the knots in my back unwind. This is one of the only things that relaxes me. Especially since it’s still and quiet in the backyard, the air warm. Music hums softly from my phone, and I get lost in the painting. I don’t realise hours have passed until my alarm goes off, startling me.
Stepping back, I admire my work. It’s one of my more colourful paintings, since I’ve been making a lot of dark ones lately. I pack up my things and place the canvas on the back deck to dry.
I follow the sound of voices and peer out the kitchen window, where I see Zayden and Mason throwing the football back and forth in the front yard. I trot upstairs to get ready for my afternoon classes. By the time I’m good to go, Mason is leaning against the wall beside the front door, twirling his keys in his hand.
‘Ready?’ he asks. He looks handsome dressed in all black, his hair damp from the shower. He must have done that quickly, as I didn’t even hear him come up the stairs. When his mouth tilts into his familiar lopsided smile, it feels like a fist is tightening around my heart.
‘Ready?’ I repeat, confused.
‘You have Intro to Communication, right?’ His eyes travel down my body, and my breath hitches in my throat, as he doesn’t try to hide it one bit.
‘You’re such a stalker.’
‘You didn’t answer my question.’
‘It sounds like you already know the answer.’
His lips twitch. ‘Come on. I’m taking you.’
Deciding not to argue and instead be grateful I don’t have to drive myself, I follow him out the door. I always get stressed trying to find a park, so I appreciate it when someone else offers to take one for the team.
Climbing into Mason’s truck, I try not to stare at him, but it seems to be getting more and more difficult to keep my eyes off him. It’s like he’s a magnet, always drawing me in.
‘I’m glad you’re still painting,’ he says conversationally as he starts the engine.
