The Silent One ✔

Chapter Thirty-One

"So basically I have to wear a smock for eight hours and constantly tell people to stop moving" I rant as walking through the carnival.

I've always been the kind of person to enjoy carnivals, so why am I so mad about attending this one? Well, not only do I have to spend eight hours drawing and painting for strangers, but I have to do so with broken fingers.

Today my customers get to choose if they would like a painting or a graphite drawing. It's going to be a long day.

"You're gonna be fine" Jason assures "I'm so proud of you"

I glance at my baby brother. He's so grown up now. When did he grow up?

"Thank you" I nod.

"Good luck kiddo" aunt Laura smiles as we stop at my station.

I've never known a family like this before. My dad was constantly drunk and reckless, and I used to think that that was normal, before aunt Laura.

"Thanks, I'll need it" I sigh as taking a seat in front of my easel.

"I wonder who your first customer will be" she smiles widely.

Hopefully, everybody just ignores me for eight hours so I won't be forced to socialize.

"That'll be me" a voice announces.

I look up to see someone I know too well. He smirks at me mischievously, resulting in me immediately folding my arms in annoyance. Here we go.

"Jeffrey" Jason greets him with a small smile.

Sam slides his hands into the pockets of his letterman jacket "Long time no see Jas" he says.

Oh fuck. Can he just not? My life would be so much easier if he just fucked off.

"Alright, we'll see you later kiddo" Aunt Laura waves goodbye as she begins walking away with Jason by her side.

"He looks different" Sam observes.

I'm not painting him. There's no way in hell. Nope. Not doing it.

"You're not serious are you?" I cock a brow.

"About what?" He blinks with a smug smirk as I take a step towards him.

"You've been taunting me for weeks and now you want me to paint you?" I cry.

"I'm your biggest fan Angel...you know that" he smiles "....can you draw with your hands all taped like that?"

Sam isn't lying, he really did encourage and support my art. I guess he still does. Although, I don't know how good my art will be today with my fingers taped up.

I have three broken fingers on my left hand and a broken pinky on my right. I can draw, but it's very uncomfortable.

"I'm not painting you" I argue.

He nods "Fine then draw me"

He's a dick head.

"No" I shake my head.

"Come on Angel it's for charity," he says with an amused tone "but if you don't want to help the children's hospital-"

See, if I say fuck off, I'm an asshole and if I say yes then I have to put up with an asshole. There's no way I can win this.

"Fine I'll draw you" I roll my eyes aa taking a step back "but that doesn't mean we have to speak"

I stand behind my easel as picking up a graphite HB pencil.

"You can't get out of uncomfortable situations by not speaking your entire life Angel" Sam retorted.

He used to always be sensitive about my selective mutism, but since the breakup, he's been set on hurting me.