The Boy Who Returned// ON HOLD FOR LIKE THE NEXT 10 CENTURIES SORRY BOUT IT

The Boy Who Returned~ Chapter Five

Mystified, I searched the entire house, asking people if they'd seen a boy with brown eyes named Kyle. "Who, that good looking boy who came with you?" Aunt Marie wheezed. "Nahh, I think he left."

When I ran into Spencer Steinfield, though, all thoughts of Kyle flew right out of the window and into the sewer. "You must be Elizabeth." He said warmly, shaking my hand. "I've heard a lot about you from your parents." I almost swooned at his British accent. I hadn't predicted him having one, even though I knew he was raised in England. Surprisingly, he was a lot younger than I had expected him to be and probably in his early-twenties- good-looking, as well.

"H-Hi." I stuttered bashfully, looking down at my feet.

Spencer smiled warmly. "Would you like to show me a few of your works of art?"

My arm tingled pleasantly as he took my elbow and led me down the hallway, where the chatter of parents and the clink of glasses eventually faded away. "Well, I don't know. They aren't that good." I mumbled modestly.

The corner of his mouth turned up. "From what I've seen so far around your house, they're pretty impressive."

Giving in to the mischievous twinkle in his eye, I showed him into the basement, where my art was cluttered into every nook and cranny. I watched his face carefully as he gingerly picked his way through the room, examining a sculpture here and nodding his approval at an oil painting there. To be honest, I knew I was better than the average artist, such as Jasmine(who couldn't draw a straight line, even with a ruler, to save her own life), so I was a tad bit nervous and excited as to what Spencer thought of my creations.

"Well, your oil paintings could use a little work. Your clay sculptures, sketches, and watercolors are just your day-to-day wannabes." He said. My heart sank at his words. My dreams, all destroyed in two sentences. "But," Spencer added, noticing my crushed expression, "Your oil paintings show tremendous promise. Sure, they could be better, but I would be happy to help you with them."

I could feel my face light up like a fluorescent light bulb. "Are you for reals?" I cried, immediately feeling my face heat up as I used Jasmine's pre-teen vocabulary. Could I get any less immature?

"Sure." Spencer shrugged, not seeming to notice my lack of maturity. "Give me your number and I'll hit you up." He offered, winking. Shit. So he did notice. Only someone my age as childish as Jasmine would say 'hit me up'.

I turned a darker shade of red, if that was even possible. I muttered my digits to him, having to repeat it several times in order for him to hear me through the curtain of hair I encompassed my face in.

After he had typed my number into his phone, he came a step closer to me. "Hey," He said softly. "Don't be embarrassed. You're a great artist, and besides, I've already gotten such a great impression of you that even though you get tongue-tied around me it doesn't change anything." He told me, brushing my hair out of my face. If he hadn't been looking right into my eyes with such overwhelming sincerity at that moment, I would've laughed in his face. God, this guy had self-confidence that was ready to burst. But he had every right to it, because he sure was gorgeous... just like a certain someone I had met earlier today. What was his name...

I looked at the gold-flecked depths of Spencer's pale green eyes and suddenly wished they were a warm chocolate brown. Just like... Kyle's. Where had he vanished to, anyway? Maybe I had forgotten to tell him to stay in place and he was still upstairs, wandering about aimlessly and waiting for his Coke, like a lost puppy...

"I-I have to go." I blurted, jerking back. I remembered my manners at the last minute. "Thanks for coming by, Mr. Steinfield. I really appreciate it." I told him, stumbling up the stairs.