Pieces [Wattpad's Editor's Choice]

16: StOmAcH fLiPs

Sunday, February 22nd

"Frannie, we need to talk."

I wrote the number six on my piece of paper. Tapped my pen against it. I was on the floor on my stomach with a pen cap in my mouth as I said, "Yeah. Talk to me."

Luna lay on her bed, her legs bent up at the knee and her hands resting on her stomach as she stared at the ceiling. I knew that position all too well; it was her I'm-Having-A-Midlife-Crisis-At-Twenty-One position. And those were rare. Luna was always absolutely certain of every choice she ever made and she carried those choices with confidence. She didn't believe in overthinking or second-guessing; you threw yourself at life and took the impact like it was everything you ever wanted.

"I don't want to make this a bigger deal than it is, but I've reached a point where life has thrown a curve ball at my chest and it's causing breathing problems. The metaphorical 'I need to get this off my chest' has become 'I need to unpack this from the fifth chamber of my heart."

I glanced up from my notebook; it was one of those notebooks that came with designs on the bottom of the page. This one had flowers spiraling up from the bottom to the top. "We only have four chambers."

"Shit Frannie, you're such a smart-ass." She paused. "But thanks for correcting me. Maybe you can correct me here, too."

"What do you mean?"

She let out a long exhale. For several seconds, she didn't speak. I stared up her and waited.

"Tyrell and I hooked up again last night."

I raised an eyebrow. "Okay...?"

"Allow me to repeat: we hooked up. Again. Again. Meaning, a second time. Dude, I never give them more than one night!"

Oh. Why had it taken me so long to catch that? I was lost in my own little world. My mind had been elsewhere all weekend; this list in my notebook was my primary assignment and I had to finish it. I even put my homework aside to complete it. "How'd it happen? I thought you weren't gonna give the Crayon Killer a second chance?"

"I wasn't!" Her arms flew up. "But we...had a Titanic moment."

I sat up. "Luna" and "Titanic" were two concepts that never were supposed to meet. "Okay..."

"Yeah. So he offered to take me to this massive art place where they sell all kinds of unusual art utensils and colors you can't get anywhere else. Literally, the whole building is made of art. The clear-glass doors are tagged with gorgeous murals, the chairs are all sculpted out of clay, the windows are stained-glass, but basically a bunch of random colored glass glued together for the windows... Anyway. Tyrell wanted me to pick some new crayons."

That was actually really sweet. My heart swelled.

"And there was this really talented artist there named Emery who does caricature paintings of people for extra money, although his paintings being sold there were incredible. Like, Picasso-type shit. Apparently he was only there for the weekend since the art place asked him to visit; he's pretty well-known in other states and used to go by the alias The Mystery Painter. He was stupid hot-jalapeño hot. I'd love to get a taste of that boy."

"Luna! We're talking about Tyrell, here."

"-wait, lemme finish. This Emery dude gave me his card if I ever want to build on my artwork. He probably has connections, which means I won't just be another starving artist once I graduate. I could be someone. That's what he said. He also complimented my hair and said his used to be blue, and I wanted to ask him for his story but there wasn't a lot of time. He had some cool tats on his forearm and was super fit and had this dark hair... Honestly, I thought he would be my next hookup. He's twenty. But he had a girlfriend who was with him-some chick with ridiculous silver lipstick and ugh, her attitude-"