Wingspan(Paranormal, Young Adult) MAJOR EDITING**

twenty six

"You two seem awfully cozy. Josh, you're exceptionally chatty today or might that have something to do with your guilt. You know you can't replace one person for the other." Mason points the end of his pencil between Josh and me. There's something almost sinister in his voice, something almost like...an accusation. I swallowed. I'd never heard Mason talk this way to Josh before. "What's going on?"

I could see the wheels turning in Masons head, something dark turning behind his eyes.

Josh snorts. "Nothing."

I look at the two of them uncomfortably. They locked eyes with each other and had a conversation between the two of them. It was awkward and private and made me feel like somehow I was disturbing them.

I look over at Wesley, half-expecting him to butt in any time soon.

I wasn't surprised to see him bent over his sketchbook, furiously drawing with short and abrupt strokes. I didn't dare interrupt him.

That's it. I was going to ask Chanel about it. She was the people-person and I was the lone wolf. I didn't have many guy friends to talk to but if that was normal behavior, then I wanted no part in it. I didn't even hang out with girls my age and having real-life friends was new to me.

Sometime afterward Wesley puts his sketch book face down on the desk. "Done." Wesley looks up and smiles but that expression didn't last for long. For the first time, he seemed to notice a weird vibe between Mason and Josh. They had both stopped talking a while ago and were now in the premise of silent discontent with the other.

"Everything good?" Wesley probes Mason with his eyes.

"Yeah," Mason says, finally acknowledging his friend. "Nothing to worry about. I've got it covered," he tells Wesley through his teeth, never breaking his glare at Josh.

Wesley takes a quick glance over to Josh to see if he was okay.

Josh was leaning on his elbow, making it a point to look anywhere but at either of us.

"Okay then." Wesley shrugged his shoulders and looked at me.

"Whatever. They're the ones with the problem. Let them deal with it," he whispers to me. I couldn't agree more.

Wesley grins. Along with his mood change, I could feel myself start to calm down. Wesley had a light about him that was gravitating. When he was happy so was I. "We should trade our portraits before Mr. Honeycott comes over."

He had a good point.

Wesley trades his for mine. During our exchange I become embarrassed knowing that mine didn't match Wesley's in strength and artistry. I hoped he wouldn't hate it. I blocked out the chatter and tried not to obsess.

But still...it was kinda hard not to when I had Wesley as my critique.

I gripped Wesley's sketch pad in my hands and steadied it on the table, overwhelmed and surprised in a good way. The entirety of it was shaded in pencil. The only difference was my hair was down and framed in straight locks around my cheeks. There was a braid wrapped around the side of my head and a sunflower on top. I looked so...so....

"Wow. That's how you see me?" Sweet. He got the birthmarks right.

"I hope you don't mind," he says, looking away. Like me, he signed his tiny initials in the corner.

"I like it." I give it back to him, smiling. "Seriously, though. Ever think about turning pro?" I wrote five points out of five on the corner of Wesleys portrait because I thought it was the best.

Wesley shrugs and wraps the leather string around his sketch book, tying it at the end. I wondered what he thought about mine. Certainly my three points wasn't terrible if he thought I'd deserved it.

The ruling grade system for portraits was one through five. When it came time to grading student drawings you could either write a grade one which meant the portrait was poor. Or give the artist five points if you thought his or her portrait was the best you've seen.

"It's just for fun," he tells me indifferently.

I took the hint and didn't say anything else about how wonderful the portrait was or how nice he was being to me about all of this.

When Mr. Honeycott comes to our table we each put our look books in the basket to be graded. Tomorrow there would be marks on my paper with helpful comments that I wouldn't be able to fulfill.

Once the bell rings I get up from my seat and side glance at Josh's retreating form.

"Hey," Wesley calls.

I smile tentatively.

"Want to walk with us?" Wesley asks, surprising me.

I sling my backpack strap over my shoulder and nod.

I didn't have a problem with Mason. "Sure. Let's go." The three of us walk out together as a group.