All Things Considered [🗸]

24. elevation

I MIGHT HAVE A BAD HABIT of driving to Dion's place at unholy times in the morning. 

However, I'm here for a reason other than being stoned today. 

The afternoon after I called Dion over to draw him, I submitted the portrait assignment for Ms. Lee's class. A few days later, she handed it back to me with a little sticky note which not only stated that I received a solid 100% on the portrait I made of Dion, but that it might be my best work yet.

Normally, I don't put a magnanimous amount of my effort into every single thing I do. A lot of times, less effort can get me a similar result. However, drawing Dion is effortless. It's not something I have to think about in depth. He's irritatingly photogenic, meaning that on a canvas, he inspires my art without even trying.

Anyway, Ms. Lee encouraged me to make a portfolio, and add the portrait of Dion I made to the portfolio. It would be great to send to a college like Lowell. So, of course, with this onslaught of good news, I felt like at some point within the past twenty-four hours I had to tell Dion about it.

After all, he is my muse. And if I am going to come up with a portfolio, he might end up being the centerpiece of the entire thing. 

So, as I cruise down the streets of Dion's neighborhood, I call him through the hands-free car speakers. It takes a few rings, but eventually he answers, and I can hear the slight coating of tired in his voice.

"Yeah?" His voice is a few pitches lower, and I can hear him shift in what I assume is his bed.

"So," I say, hands still on the wheel, "Ms. Lee was in love with the portrait of you that I submitted the other day."

A yawn, but I can hear the faint smile to his voice as he says, "that's great, that's great."

"It is," I say, because really, this is the most euphoric I've felt in a long time. "So, thank you for being disgustingly aesthetic. It just got me an A+ and a possible art portfolio theme."

A soft laugh from the other side. "You're welcome?" A pause. "What's the theme going to be?"

You. I pause, letting my shoulders fall into a shrug even though he can't see me. "You'll see."

"Okay." Dion says, and there's a slight singsong tone to his voice as he says it.

"Do you want to go for celebratory slushies?" I ask, pulling onto his driveway. My lips twitch as the teasing slips from my lips. "Almost like a date?"

"Gross," Dion says. "Also, it's 1:27 AM."

My lips purse. I'd essentially spent most of the night at Adair's. 

At ten, we played our own remix of beer-pong, with the substitution of beer for Dr. Pepper. That took its fair amount of time. We then proceeded to play Monopoly, which ended in Adair and Kieran pissed at each other over some properties.