Fitting in

Chapter 22

“Bye Mom love you!” Brett called getting out of her car, after her mom dropped her off from school. She pretended to enter the building, but turned when the bell rang, to the parking lot. She ran up to Simon who was sitting in his jeep looking a little worried.

“I was worried you had bailed.” He said opening the passenger door for Brett.

“I had to get away from my mother, but I’m here now.” She said entering the car. She had two easels and plenty of paint in her book bag ready to finish their paintings in the next six hours. Simon leaned over to kiss her, but she was all business now. She was determined to paint Marc and his distressed thoughts.

“Which drawings in here are Marc’s?” Brett said pointing to all the pictures inside the car.

“The ones on the dash board, on that door, that seat.” Simon said pointing to each object as he pulled out of the schoolyard. Brett began to sketch the drawings on her canvas; they would serve as a sort of background to explain Marc’s chaotic state of mind. She would paint his face over the pictures, but you’d still be able to tell it was there.

“He doesn’t normally wake up till half past noon.”

“Okay so I’ll wait. What is it you wanted to paint again?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yea, you’re the perfect example of someone who masks all their emotions.”

Brett considered this thought while sketching, and decided not to dwell on the topic. She copied Marc’s drawings in the car, until they pulled into Simon’s driveway.

Once they entered the apartment Simon led Bret towards the patio outside, which served as his makeshift art studio. He motioned for her to sit down on a bench, and mixed colors together on a paper plate. He placed a canvas on an easel, and sat down behind it on a stool. Brett looked up to find Simon’s eyes analyzing her face, she felt uncomfortable, like he was dissecting her piece by piece. Simon touched his paintbrush to the canvas, and began to paint.

Brett moved not sure how he wanted her to pose, Simon didn’t seem to care which ever way she moved though. She decided to look straight ahead for a while, but then got lost in thought. She stared at the floor for what seemed like hours, and then finally looked up when she saw Simon switch brushes. She wanted to see what he had painted so far. However, as soon as Brett rose from her bench, Simon held out a hand to stop her.

“I want to see what you’ve painted so far.”

“No, you’ll ruin it.” He answered without taking his eyes off the canvas.

“And I haven’t already ruined it by standing up?”

“No.”

“How is it your painting me without looking anyway?” Brett inquired with her arms akimbo.

A faint blush spread across Simon’s face and he ignored her.

“Have you memorized my features?”

“Something like that.”

Brett smirked at him, and walked up next to his canvas. Before she could catch a glimpse of his work, Simon struck out his paintbrush, smearing a line of brown paint across Brett’s cheek. She stared at him flabbergasted then began to rub at the mark.

“Don’t look or else.”

She took his warning seriously, and decided to outline her sketches from earlier with a thin black sharpie. Hours passed and they shared jokes and personal stories. They even had a karaoke session like earlier in the garage of Joe’s Java. Brett found herself laughing harder than she’d laughed in years, and Simon found himself smiling more than ever before. Only when Marc walked in confused and alarmed at the two bubbly teens in his house did the two stop having fun.