What Happens in High School

Chapter Ten

So Why Don't You Blow Me A Kiss Before You Go?

Max’s POV

Bob came over after school and I taught him how to paint. I was working on a painting of the galaxies all day. It was looking really cool and when Bob came over he helped me put in the stars. I taught him how to splatter the paint to look like thousands of tiny stars twinkling in the night sky, and he didn’t do a bad job. We painted and he watched me paint and then when it was finished I topped it off with my signature and insisted that Bob write his name too. He only wrote his initials saying he didn’t really contribute. I begged to differ. He wrote ‘BCB’ at the bottom under my name in white paint. Did you know his middle name was Corey? Hot right?

Bob noticed my scars and asked me about them. I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming but maybe just not right now. I explained that it was an old habit and he was surprisingly cool about it. He told me that my past was not an issue and that he only cared about my safety. He also called me nice and sweet so that was awesome too. It made me happy that he didn’t judge me based on my past and was only concerned with my well-being. It was totally rad that he was that type of person. He only got better and better every time I saw him.

When Bob left I wanted him to kiss me but he didn’t. I don’t know what stopped him. Did he not like me anymore? Did Jack change his mind? I didn’t want Bob to think differently of me because Jack had been a dick. Maybe it was the scars, had they bothered him after all?

I settled for a hug as he left which covered his shirt in paint. I felt a little bad but it looked cool and he didn’t seem to mind too much. The hug was totally worth the paint stains by the way. I got the puzzle piece feeling all over again. I leaned into him not wanting to ever let go. But it had to end eventually. He had band practice and he had to leave before Frank ruined another moment. At least I got to see his face when he realized what I’d done to his shirt.

After Bob was gone I went back up into my room and cleaned up my painting supplies. I looked at the easel holding my masterpiece. The blending of colors and use of various techniques was great and all but the stars were what really made it. It wasn’t how they looked or how many there were, it was the fact that Bob had helped create them. He added his own handful to the sky and even though I wasn’t exactly sure which ones they were, those were my favorites.

I let the painting dry for a while as I did my homework from the day before. As stupid and weak as it sounds, I wasn’t in the right mindset to do anything other than cry and eat ice cream while watching Finding Nemo yesterday. I put off my homework as long as I could but realized that I had to get it done eventually and sooner was better than later. I got to my work and by the time I was done two hours later, my painting had dried but unfortunately so had the paint on my face and my arms, and not to mention in my hair. I put away my school things and went to take a shower. I scrubbed off the paint from my skin with relative ease but getting it out of my hair seemed to be a larger challenge. Half an hour and four shampoos later all of the paint seemed to be out of my hair. I stepped out of the shower and put on some pajamas even though it was only 6 o’clock.

As I dried my hair I checked for stray splatters of paint. I was completely paint free but also completely worn-out. I climbed into bed and read for a while until my eyes started to get heavy. It was a little early to go to bed but I didn’t care. I put my book down and shut off my light. The time was 8:26. If I went to sleep now I could get ten hours of sleep, which would be a first. Of course that didn’t happen.

The moment my head hit the pillow I thought I would fall right asleep but instead I couldn’t even keep my eyes closed. I stared at the ceiling and thought of the one thing that had been on my mind all day, or rather the one person who had been on my mind all day. Bob came over so unexpectedly and most normal girls in my shoes would have been mortified to have someone as strapping and perfect as Bob come to their house, meet their obnoxious little brother and see them covered in ugly paint clothes with their hair looking a mess, but I wasn’t. I didn’t mind that Bob had seen me looking so strange and meeting my even stranger kid brother. I felt like myself around him and he accepted me which made it that much better.