“Sure.” Sera moves over so there’s space for me to sit and work on the other half of the page. She hands me some markers, and when I grab them, goose bumps rise on my arm at her touch. But Sera just turns back to the drawing, reminding me I was a fool for thinking I could turn our friendship into something more. The quick, painful memory of the night she stood me up comes back to me. My anxiety when she was late, turning into tearful disbelief, then anger, when she told me she couldn’t do this. I want to know why, but more than that, I want to be friends again.
We sketch quietly for a few minutes; the boys have finally calmed down. Through the trees, the sun falls in broken yellow splotches across the yard, warming our cheeks and shoulders. My phone buzzes again, and I scramble to shut it off, like I’ve been caught. I wish I could just get wrapped up in Izzy like last summer. Maybe I should. She’s fun, and it’s comfortable knowing that it’s not going to get serious because there’s a clear end date. A few minutes later, it’s Sera’s phone that lights up with a text message. She looks at it and smiles, typing back a quick response. I wonder if it’s Jackson, but I can’t ask that without sounding jealous.
“You’re good at this,” I say as she gives Adam the okay to run hisPirates Onlysign up the tree house.
“Yeah? Thanks. I’m loving teaching.”
“That’s great,” I say, picking up a brown marker and scribbling on the edge of Adam’s other abandoned drawing. “I miss camp.” Getting lost in my art was always something I looked forward to, and making posters for town events scratches some of that itch. But art will always be there, waiting for me to have time again.
“You should come by sometime, then,” Sera offers, smiling at me for real as she watches me sketch.
“That would be fun.”
“Just don’t let them see you’re a better artist than I am,” she says, still looking at my stupid drawing. “Or my expertise will be questioned.”
“Yeah, right. As previously mentioned, I’m a hobbyist—you’re the expert.”
“Andyou gotta keep it zipped about the old days. If they find out it wasouridea to start the annual last-day-of-camp paint fight against the theater kids, I’ll have no authority at all,” Sera says.
I laugh. “Fine. Deal.”
“Glad that’s settled,” she says.
“So,” I say, adding a cannon to the front of the boat. “Tell me about this gap year thing.”
Chapter Ten
Sera
On Monday, inspired by Oliver and Adam’s pirates, which are still all over our backyard, I have the kids spend the morning coming up with ideas for self-portraits. I have them write down a list of all the things about themselves they can think of. We do physical stuff but emotional and character stuff too. Things I’m thinking about for my fellowship application. I try to stay focused, but once or twice, I find myself glancing at the door, hoping Luke takes me up on my offer. But the morning goes by and there’s no sign of him.
After lunch, we’re scheduled to walk down to the beach. Jayda, the lifeguard, is an old friend of Abbi’s. She shouts hi to me as I herd the kids across the hot sand toward her. For anyone who doesn’t want to swim, we’ve got salt-worn easels hidden under the lifeguard stand, and I’m lugging the bag of artsupplies along with Frisbees and other beach games. It’s only an hour, but I’m definitely tired by the end of it.
Once we trek back to the studio, I have the kids set up their stations with the materials they want to use to fill in their outlines.
“Remember, you don’t have to finish today. This is going to be our open project this week, so you can add to it between now and Friday and we’ll do presentations then.” I settle back on my stool and wait for hands to shoot up into the air when they have questions, then move carefully among them one at a time. I sit next to them on the ground, listening to their ideas pour out of their little heads. There’s so much energy in each kid, it’s like they radiate imagination.
Suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and I turn hopefully. But it’s just one of the parents, here for pickup a little early. I ask everyone to start cleaning up, helping the kids hang or lay their pieces out to dry until they come back Wednesday. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I check it as the kids start clearing their spaces.
Jackson
Any chance you’re free for dinner tonight?
Maybe it’s good if Luke doesn’t show up today. I don’t need the confusion. I like Jackson, and I haven’t liked anyone besides Luke in so long.
Sera
Sure! What time?
Jackson
7pm at my house? I’ll send the address.
I gulp. Dinner at hishouse?Fresh start. Fresh. Start,I remind myself.
Sera
Sounds great! See you then.
