A Bit Too CRAZY (Josh Hutchereson FanFic)

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

Josh and I decide to watch a couple movie before we leave for the art museum. We watch The Forger and most of Bridge to Terabithia. Gosh he was adorable as a little child in Terabithia. I pull on a thin sweater, and Josh leads me to his car. It take about fifteen minutes to get to the museum. Once we get there, we get front door tickets and wait in line to enter the exhibit. The line is really long. No question.

                “How long do you think it’ll take to get to get to the front?” Josh asks me.

                “I don’t know. My guess is ten years,” I say. We laugh a little, and then fall silent.

                Josh breaks the silence. “I wonder which paintings are here?”

                “Me too. I’m so excited.” I give Josh a kiss on the cheek, and take his hand. “Thanks for bringing me.”

                “It’s nothing, Scarlett,” Josh replies.

                “But it’s a Van Gogh exhibit!” I wrap my arms around Josh’s neck, and hug him. “Thank you!”

                “Well you’re welcome,” Josh says. He kisses my forehead and sets me down. “Hopefully we get in the exhibit soon. I need to see some of his paintings; he seems like an amazing artist.”

                “You haven’t seen any of his work?” I ask in disbelief. “I should’ve showed you some paintings before we left.”

                “Well as far as I know I haven’t seen any, but I also want to be surprised.”

                “Well you will be.”

                After about twenty minutes, Josh and I reach the front of the line. Josh reaches for an audiotape, but I stop him. “I’ll explain it all,” I tell him. He looks impressed, and follows me to the exhibit barehanded. When we enter the first room of paintings, I almost break into tears when I see my second favorite painting by Van Gogh, Sunflowers, right away. I almost scream, but stop myself because I’d probably get kicked out.

                “Oh my god…,” I whisper. I pull out my phone to start taking pictures, but a man stops me.

                “No phones, miss,” he says. “If you want to take pictures, you can purchase a camera here.” He points to the corner to my left, next to him, where a man is standing at a table with those little cameras with the film that you have to take to a CVS or something so you can get the pictures. I pay for three because each one only takes up to like ten or twenty pictures each.

                “Which painting will you talk to me about first?” Josh asks me in a whisper.

                “Sunflowers.” I say. We walk to the painting, and both look at it as close as we can. The paint strokes are beautiful. So many different shades of the orange-like color for the table. “Arles, August 1888,” I say. “91 by 72 centimeters.”

                Josh covers my eyes. “How many sunflowers without looking?”

                Faster than immediately, I answer, “Twelve.”

                Josh uncovers my eyes. “Okay. Act like an audiotape.” He takes my hand, and we tour several more rooms, me saying the information like I did with Sunflowers to dozens of other paintings.