“I mean, no. He’s gay. Like, really really gay. It was a joke.”
“Got it,” he said.
We walked in silence for a bit, passing the works of other students and pausing to stare on occasion. I pretended Chris was Oliver. Cool, confident, sexually uninterested Oliver. It made the whole interaction much easier.
“I can’t believe it’s in two weeks,” I muttered, staring at a student’s impeccable self-portrait. Two more weeks to finish my thesis and tie up my entire high school career in one neat little package.
“Lucky. You’re getting it over with. I’ve got another four.”
“More time to prepare?” Of course. His show was going up with Ethan’s—it would mean I couldn’t skip the opening.
“More time to panic, in all honesty.”
When we resumed walking, I couldn’t help but notice that he kept glancing over to me, like he wanted to ask me something. It just made me walk a little faster. Thankfully, Jane was coming down the stairs from the painting studio. She bounced over to us as she zipped up her downy aquamarine coat and grinned.
“Hey guys,” she said. “Mind if I walk with you?”
“Not at all,” I said. Maybe a little too quickly. I didn’t want to be alone with Chris, and I couldn’t tell if it was because I didn’t trust him or myself. Don’t be so nervous, you can trust me. I shoved down the voice before it could get louder, jabbing my finger with my room key to stay grounded.
“How’s it going?” Chris asked Jane. If he was upset by someone else joining in, he didn’t show it. Maybe he was just being cordial.
“Great,” she replied. “Just trying to get tomorrow’s homework finished up.” She nudged me. “Though Little Miss Amazing over here’s already done.”
I shrugged and tried to fight down my second blush in five minutes. My heart was racing from the words that had bubbled up from the depths. I clearly needed sleep. And out of this situation. Where was Ethan? I needed his snark to keep me in balance.
“It’s what happens when you don’t have a social life,” I said, looking everywhere but at Chris. “Work comes easier.”
It was only a partial lie. The truth was, I could spend days painting and not notice the time. I’d finished the assignment two days early not because I was trying to be efficient, but because I’d seriously lost myself to the process. I almost missed sign-in because of it. There were reasons I set alarms when I went in to paint on my own.
“So says the girl who’s ditching us for an off-campus fling,” Chris said.
“Let me guess—Ethan?”
“She gets me,” I said, gesturing to Jane.
We reached the end of the hall. Chris opened the door for us and bowed as we exited. Five o’clock and the sky was already dark as death. Most kids complained about it, but I actually really enjoyed the short days. It wasn’t an emo thing; I just wasn’t cut out for sun or heat. Another reason I sent myself to boarding school in the northern wilds.
“Anyway,” I said, wrapping my burgundy scarf around my neck. Chris buttoned the last few buttons of his tan duster and Jane pulled on a knit hat. It felt like it was going to snow. We already had two feet on the ground, but I seriously hoped for another flurry. The woods felt most alive in the silence and snow. “This is where I must bid you adieu.”
Chris shook his head.
“Don’t say that. Adieu is sort of a permanent farewell. It pretty much means ‘to God.’?”
How fitting, I thought, and shoved it back down with the rest of my past.
“Oh well then,” I said, struggling to keep my wit in check, “since I don’t plan on overdosing on tea, I shall say . . . catch you later, alligators?”
Jane laughed and gave me a quick hug. Chris just stood there awkwardly. “In a while, crocodile,” he fumbled.
“Nice try, champ. Better luck next time.” Then I slapped him on the shoulder (holy crap, what was I becoming, a bro?) and turned before that itchy gravity between us could connect. I didn’t look back to watch them head toward the cafeteria. I kept my eyes on the road, but I had no doubt that the murder of crows on the power lines weren’t the only ones watching me depart.
Get a hold of yourself, Kaira, I thought as I walked. You just need to sleep.
Yeah. Tell that to my dreams.