Blurred Lines [BxB] COMPLETED

0.12

0.12 - Tuesday 1:23 p.m.

Rhys Wyer

I haven't told anyone, but art class may be my favorite class. The teacher is weird, but something about expressing my emotions through different mediums that the teacher challenges us with really appeals to me.

Right now we're using oil paint. The hard part is that we can only use the grayscale, and it has to be a self-portrait. I've chosen an image of myself a few months back that Mav took by the beach. I'm kneeling in the sand, letting the waves crash around my ankles, my hair falling forward across my face.

"I like what you're doing right now," Mr. Kyu, my art teacher, says behind me.

I turn to see him studying my progress with a finger stroking his chin. He slowly points to my hands in the drawing, which are not painted yet but should be grappling with the sand. "Maybe try to convey some emotion there. Anger. Desperation. Sorrow. Whatever you want."

"Okay," I say. Then I collect some gray paint in my brush and wait for him to leave.

I think about what emotion I should choose, but anger, desperation, and sorrow don't come to mind. Instead, confusion and frustration surface, and my brush strokes the canvas, finding the lines of the hand, the tendons and bones molded from these emotions.

At the end of class, Mr. Kyu compliments my painting. The girl sitting next to me who always wears heavy eyeliner and has earbuds in stares at my self-portrait.

"That's good," she says quietly, "you must be really lost." With a thin, sympathetic smile she glides away. Fucking weird.

"I'm not lost!" I call after her, but she doesn't turn around.

Outside on the quad, I find Hunter and Tristan, the only people really willing to talk to me. Everyone else avoids me either because of Beverly or Mav.

"Yo, this Friday is gonna be lit!" Tristan says with a stupid grin. Hunter raises his eyebrows as if taking offense to his words.

"Dude," Hunter deadpans with a shake of his head.

"What?" Tristan asks, confused.

"Don't say that," Hunter says. Realization dawns on Tristan and he laughs, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"So what's up with you and Mav?" Hunter asks, unfortunately redirecting his attention to me. I sift a hand through my hair, pushing it up out of my eyes. I hadn't thought people would pick up on it so soon.

"Nothing," I say, struggling to keep my eyes from shifting around.

"When he ran after you Lauren was so fucking pissed," Hunter says with a chuckle. I glance sharply across the quad to where Lauren and Mav are talking with Jules and Beverly.

"That's weird," I say absently, meanwhile my mind analyzes what he just insinuated. Why was Lauren mad? Because Mav came after me? He's my best friend. Or was.

It almost seems like she's jealous. But that can't be because Mav and I aren't...he isn't...I'm not...

Fuck I need to change the subject.

"Did Jules and Beverly hang out last night?" I ask. Hunter avoids looking at me.

"Um..yeah," Hunter says reluctantly, "but nothing happened. If you were wondering."

"They didn't hook up?" I ask, looking over at Beverly again. She is standing pretty close to Jules. Why do you care? It's not like you wanted to be her boyfriend.

"No. Jules would never do that," Hunter says firmly. My gaze wanders back over to Jules. I don't know how much I trust him, especially when there's a hot girl in front of him.

"Right," I say flatly.

"Stop stressing about Beverly. If you just tell her you're sorry you guys will be good again and then you can finally get past first base," Hunter says. My lips turn down in a grimace before I can stop myself. Hunter's brows furrow.

"Unless you don't want to...?"

I glare at him. "I want to."

Hunter simply raises a brow.

I do want to. She's hot. How could I not want that? I picture it happening; the lights dimmed, the mattress pressed against me, my heart thudding loudly in my chest.

But when I imagine her in front of me, breaths mingling and skin hot, it's not her blue eyes that are staring back into mine.