Repainted {Camila/You}

6

What if he doesn't like me? What if I'm not good enough for him? What if I mess something up? What if he cancels?
These were the thoughts that filtered through my head as I applied the creamy tan  foundation to my face, using my large brush to dust my face until my skin tone was perfectly even. Since talking to the girls about Nate, the sense of discomfort was even stronger, my brain sending loud "Do Not Go" signals. I was still choosing to ignore them, though, turning up the music on my phone. I was pressing the button to raise the volume when I paused, noticing the small bruise in the space between my wrist and thumb.
"What the heck?" I squinted at it, retracing the events of my day. I couldn't recall doing anything that could've ended up in a bruise. I stared at it for a few more seconds before the clock caught my attention. I was late; and so was he. I quickly covered the small, dotted bruise with foundation and stood up, straightening out my outfit. I was wearing a white oversize sweater, covered in fuzzy fabric, a pair of skinny jeans, and booties. I smoothed my chocolaty hair down to avoid the frizz and glanced at my phone. 0 missed calls. It was 6:40. I sighed, dragging my eyes away from the bright face of the cell phone. It was taunting me, and if it were a person I knew it'd be grinning at how it captured all of my attention. I was sitting with my eyes closed, head slightly tilted to the side when I heard the distinctive buzzing pattern of my phone ringing. I answered on the second buzz.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside."

That was all it took for me. I leapt from my chair (remembering to hang up), and grabbed my sketchbook and charcoals before I rushed down the stairs, taking one, two, three at a time, nearly breaking my neck in the process. I turned another corner once I reached the landing of the stairs and paused to catch my breath before walking into the spacious lobby of the dorm building. The cheap, plastic chairs and colorful bulletin boards were the first thing I noticed when I walked in, the building's decor reminding me more of a hospital than a college building. A single desk sat in the middle of the room against a wall, designated for the RA on duty, but instead of its usual occupant, Nate sat there smiling at me.

"Hey," I breathed out, fixing the hem of my sweater yet again. It was becoming a nervous habit.

"Hi there," he replied, standing to greet me with a hug. I took the opportunity to inhale his cologne, something light yet masculine. He wore a pair of tight jeans, faded from one too many washes. There were rips in the knee, his brown skin poking through the material. I could tell he changed his shirt, because normally he would wear a simple graphic tee. He'd replaced his normal 'uniform' shirt to a brown flannel. His entire outfit screamed starving Indie artist, including the leather shoes he wore.

"How was your day?" He continued as he pulled away from the hug.

"Could have been a bit better, but it went. Yours?" He shrugged, moving towards the door, and I followed.

"It was a day. I modeled some more for Kehlani's painting, you know how it goes."

"Now do I?" I glanced over at him, only to see his signature grin on his face. He was forever smiling, a self-satisfied look on his face as if his own quips amused him.

"You are the artist, right?" I smiled in response.

"Yeah, but I've never painted anyone like that. Ever."

"Really?"

I nodded, "This is my first figure drawing class ever. I didn't want to attempt anything and completely mess up."

"It sounds like you're living life on the cautious side."

"Does it?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

He intrigued me as a person, but for the time that i knew him he seemed closed off. I knew few personal details about him, just that he was an only child and that his family had some decent amount of money. He did theater, and chess, and all the other things a teen novel boyfriend should have. But he never talked about them to any great length. He never named anyone, he never mentioned any close relationships, he'd never even officially told me his favorite color. I figured he'd come around eventually though, and for the most part, I kept that secret held in.