“Yeah?” She seemed a little surprised by my eagerness.
“I was trying to catch you. I have some info that I think you’ll appreciate,” I said excitedly with a grin on my face.
“Ok……What’s up?” She asked “Well…….” And that’s all that would come out – not a single mention of AJ’s name. Why couldn’t I allow the words to escape my lips? What’s wrong with me? Megan would be grateful that I thought of him for her – especially when she saw him. I tried again, “Uh……be prepared when you get to Ms. Jamison’s class. She’s assigning group projects again.” That was my save – sad I know.
I knew the low down on this guy’s relationship status; heck I even had his number already if she wanted it, yet I was holding out on her? It didn’t even make sense to me.
“Umm…..okay. Thanks, I guess.” She shot me a weird look like she thought I was on drugs or something and then walked away clutching her books against her chest. What the heck was that? Why didn’t I just tell her that I wanted to hook her up with him?
Chapter Two
Unfortunately, AJ was still in the forefront of my mind even after I’d returned home from school. I didn’t want to think of him – didn’t like that I couldn’t seem to help myself. I tossed my backpack on the floor beside the desk and kicked off my shoes before throwing myself onto the bed. As I lay there staring up at the ceiling, I thought back to the strange moment with Megan in the hall and again searched for an explanation. The one that made the most sense to me was that I’d subconsciously held back because I was protecting her from getting her feelings hurt. AJ probably wasn’t going to be into her anyway because of the whole race thing, so it would’ve been wrong for me to let her waste her time. That makes sense, right? That’s the only acceptable reason that I would’ve reacted that way. However, the problem with that theory is that I’m not that noble and I knew deep down that there was more to it.
For a brief moment I felt a flash of disappointment for the way I’d conducted myself. I felt like such an idiot for even caring – caring about what this guy thought; what kind of girl he did and didn’t like; and simply for having him on my mind at all. Pushing the thought from my head, I decided to retreat to the attic. That’s where I set up my makeshift art studio. Painting always helped me make sense of things when life left me reeling with confusion. I pulled on a pair of stretch pants and an old, oversized t-shirt that was already riddled with multicolored spatters of paint – and a few small holes from years of wear and tear. When I opened the door, I paced up the attic steps quickly.
Everything about my oasis was refreshingly comforting; from the familiar way the hazy light flowed in through the old windows, to the worn green paint on the window sill, and even the small faded blue loveseat situated against the far end of the room. I’d adorned the walls with some of my own art work and added in a few pieces from local artists. I flicked the switch at the top of the stairs, bringing to life the string of lights that I’d hung lining the ceiling rafters. Taking in one breath of the stale attic air was enough for me to decide that I should open up a few windows too.