The Artists' Palette

Chapter 5

I wake up to the sound of Lark snoring quietly next to me.  The realization hits me that I fell asleep in his arms, making me blush rapidly.  I can’t believe I did that!! I’ve never been the type of girl that falls asleep on guys!  The only boyfriend I’ve ever had was Kenton, but that wasn’t a real relationship.  We were twelve, after all.  I had asked my Daddy if I could date, and in typical dad fashion, he quickly said no.  Then, after he thought about it for a minute, he said that I could date, if it was Kenton, because he had known him since we were little and he was a “good kid”.  A few weeks later, Kenton asked me to a school dance, and I said yes.  But that doesn’t count as an actual boyfriend!

            I try to detach myself from Lark without waking him up, but am not successful.  The only way I can get away is to lift his arm from around my shoulder and slip out from under it, a task that is much more difficult than it sounds, especially when the other person is asleep.  I give up, and decide that it’s okay because Lark and I are friends.  I resolve that I might as well do some thinking if I’m going to remain here silently.

            My mind floats back to the story that Lark told me last night.  Did that actually happen, or did I dream it?  I’ve always had a hard time distinguishing between reality and dreams.  The details seem realistic, from what I can recall, and I don’t think I would dream something like that.  My dreams are much more obscure, usually involving robots, duels, princesses, or extremely sketchy plot lines.  I definitely wouldn’t have had a dream about Lark telling a story.  Besides, it makes sense contextually to my current predicament.

            Which leaves me to think about the content of the story.  Strangely enough, it seems to relate quite accurately to our lives.  But… No, Lark doesn’t think of me like that.  He would have told me, wouldn’t he?  Him and me have never been more than friends, and doesn’t the boy beg the girl to come home with him?  Lark never said anything about liking me.  Besides, I’m not destined to be married to the son of my dad’s best friend!

            Unless… That wouldn’t be Kenton, would it? Lark’s got to know that there is nothing at all between Kenton and I.  I shift my head to study Lark for a minute.  There’s absolutely no way he’s been in love with me for four years without saying a word about it.  The only thing that even resembled romance between us was the kiss, and that didn’t mean anything!  We were both just caught up in the moment, and it was a promise that we wouldn’t desert each other.  There is no way he likes me.  It’s not even remotely possible.

            Once I’ve convinced myself of this (because that wouldn’t make any sense whatsoever for him to have any feelings for me) I almost laugh in spite of myself.  Here I am, facing imminent death in the headquarters of the people that despise me the most, and I’m worrying about boys!  A small giggle squirms its way out of my lips, which I suddenly notice are dangerously close to Lark’s ear.

            His eyes snap open, and he abruptly pulls his arms out in front of him, looking startled.  Unfortunately, I was held captive beneath his arms, so I’m dragged with them as he moves.

            “Ow, ow ow!”  I end up on the floor.  I’m not a person of very large stature, so I was easily thrown.  “Remind me not to fall asleep on you again.”

            Lark laughs. “Sorry, Carrots.  Didn’t mean to wail you in the head.  Put a little meat on those bones, and maybe you wont go flying next time!”

            Indignantly, I reply that it is in fact his fault for not checking his surroundings before swinging his arms in such a hazardous fashion.  He tells me to take a chill pill, and I decide that sticking my tongue out is a perfectly adequate response to this.  Lark gets up to give me a hug and make fun of me some more.