Tackling the Canvas

Chapter 1

Nora

I once thought I'd have a happily ever after with my Prince Charming after school ended. Well, I was so fucking wrong. Life is shit, and you've got to face it with either a smile or a frown; in the end, no one cares which you choose.

Love is worthless. Why do you need to cling to a guy for the rest of your life to find happiness? It's so messed up. Whoever said you needed love to be truly happy is fucking wrong. Because maybe, just maybe—in some cases—it isn't enough. I learned that lesson in the worst way a little girl could have, through heartbreak and disillusionment that shattered my childhood dreams. The reality is stark and unforgiving, and it took me far too long to realize that true happiness comes from within, not from someone else.

Losing a fa—

A strong arm bumped into my shoulder. "Watch it," I mumbled, irritation bubbling beneath the surface. Closing my laptop, I packed my things into my bag with a bit more force than necessary and headed outside. Being a senior in a college full of nutheads was hard, especially when you were on your own, with no one to help you navigate the chaos.

Just as I reached for the handle of the glass door to enter Building Four, I heard my name called from behind. Taking a deep breath, I turned around. "Miss Anderson."

"Professor Maxwell, what do I owe the pleasure?" I managed a small smile, though my gut twisted in anticipation.

"I'm really sorry to ask this, but I'd appreciate it if you could help Mr. De Luca."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to contain my exasperation. Professor Maxwell had been persistent in trying to make me tutor Owen Freaking De Luca, a junior and hokey star, the kind of guy that every girl swooned over. But beneath that charming exterior was a total asshole, and the thought of working with him made my stomach turn.

"Professor, I—"

"Please. He's close to failing, and you know who his father is. I'll give you extra credit on the project for next semester." That definitely caught my attention. Sighing, I nodded slightly, the weight of the decision settling in. "Sure."

"Perfect. Send me your schedule, and I'll arrange the first meeting." With that, he turned and left me standing there, a mix of frustration and resignation swirling in my mind. I was sure as hell this would end up being a waste of time.

____

I called it. A. Complete. Waste. Of. Time.

After all that back and forth, I finally agreed to tutor him, and what does he do? He shows up late. How surprising. I shouldn't have expected anything different from him.

I wasn't about to waste my precious time sitting idly in the library, so I grabbed one of my favorite novels, To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, letting the familiar weight of the book settle into my hands. If that nuthead decided to show up—assuming he had any reason to—I'd at least make the wait worthwhile.

As I neared the end of chapter 10, the soft, familiar scraping sound of chair legs gliding across the wooden floor broke my focus. My eyes lifted from the page, and there he was—striking hazel eyes shifting between green and brown, locking onto mine with an intensity that made my pulse quicken. A cocky, yet subtle smile played on his soft, pinkish lips, revealing a glimpse of perfectly white teeth. His long, wavy dark brown hair, not quite shoulder-length, caught the light streaming in from the window, where it shimmered with a hint of red. He sat casually in front of me, arms crossed, leaning back with that effortless confidence. Owen.

___

"You're late," I murmur, my voice barely rising above the quiet rustle of pages as I return my gaze to the book on the desk. His soft but husky chuckle fills the air between us, the sound low and warm, like a gentle hum that sends a ripple through the stillness, settling into my ears and lingering there.