Sketch

Chapter 3

"There is no way in heck I'm meeting your mother!" I yelled.

"Aww come on Nat! What's the worse that could happen?" Devon sighed.

"She could hate me, I could hate her, she could be an awful cook, this list goes on and on," I huffed with a wave of my hand.

"Don't be so dramatic," Devon smirked.

"Psh! Me? Dramatic? You make me laugh," I snorted and crossed my arms.

"Oh come on, she really wants to meet you!" He pleaded.

"But why?" I groaned.

"It's normal for mothers to want to meet a girl that her son has been hanging out with for two weeks!" He reasoned.

I sighed and leaned back against my bed post. "How would I know that?"

"You wouldn't! You don't let people get close to you!" Devon huffed, exasperated.

"I have good reason," I pointed.

"Yeah, yeah. You hate people. Lke anyone believes that excuse," Devon said, rolling his eyes.

"Hey! It's the truth!" I shouted.

"I refuse to believe that. There's more than what your telling me," Devon said firmly.

"And what makes you so sure about that?" I growled.

"I'm not stupid," He shrugged.

"Ha!" I snorted. "I beg to differ."

Devon sighed and leaned back beside me, hugging one of my pillows to his chest. "Be rude all you want but my opinion doesn't change. I know you're hiding something."

I tugged on unconvinced expression onto my face and crossed my arms. I couldn't let my guard down.

"Fine," I muttered after a few minutes of silence.

"Fine what?" Devon asked, dazed. I had clearly just woken him up from a day dream.

"Fine, I'll meet your mother," I sighed.

"Sweet! You'll really love her Nat! I'm sure of it!" Devon said, grinning his grin that made him look like a kid on Christmas.

"Question is, will she like me?" I murmured, running my hand through my messy hair.

Devon's car horn penetrated my front door and I huffed angrily.

"Give me a darn minute boy!" I screamed. I heard another quick honk and rolled my eyes. I looked myself up and down in the mirror, checking every inch of myself for imperfections. Heck, all I was was one big imperfection. Four honks and six screams later, I was out the door and in Devon's car. He eyed me and smirked, meeting my gaze and holding it.

"What?" I growled.

"You look stunning, Natalia," He smiled. I felt my cheeks warming and I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a slim fitted, knee length, dark purple dress. I also had no accessories on except for the three string friendship bracelets I always wore.

"Really? I feel stupid," I sighed.

"No, no. You look great. Most definitely," Devon grinned.

"You better not be lying," I grumbled.

"I'm not. I promise," He smiled as we pulled into the driveway to an average sized house with a blue door and blue shudders. The house looked very nice from the outside and had a neat garden lining the walk way. I'd never been over Devon's house before surprisingly. We'd been friends for about two weeks and he'd been over at my house plenty of times.

"Ready?" Devon asked me as we approached the front door.

I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders, running over my greeting quickly in my head before nodding slowly. Devon gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it before the door opened.

"Hello there dear," Smiled the short, dark haired woman on the other side of the door. She had a slightly faded Italian accent and her eyes were a deep blue.

"Hello Mrs. Foster," I smiled nervously, taking her hand and shaking it.

"Please, call me Liliana. Won't you come in?" She offered, stepping out of the doorway and letting Devon hold the door open. I gave her a quick nod and smile as I stepped into the utterly gorgeous house. I turned around and mouthed 'wow' to Devon, who smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I hope you don't mind Italian food," Liliana said as she lead me towards the dining room.

"It's my favorite," I smiled and Devon gave me thumbs up, causing me to work hard to hold back a laugh. We reached the elegant dining room and Devon pulled out my seat for me while his mother took the seat at the head of the table. We made our plates in an awkward silence and Devon cleared his throat.

"So," Liliana smiled. "You're my son's girlfriend eh?"

I choked on my water and shook my head, coughing. "G- girlfriend?" I croaked.

"Well of course," She smirked.

"No. No, we're just friends," I said slowly, composing myself.

"Ah," She frowned, raising on eyebrow. "What a shame."

Devon coughed loudly and glared at his mother, who gave him a small, polite wave from the other end of the table.

"Has Devon sung you anything yet?" She asked, earning another glare from her son.

"Sung me anything? Devon sings?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He smiled and took a sip of his water.

"We all have hobbies. You sketch, I sing," He shrugged.

"So you're an artist?" Liliana inquired.

"An aspiring artist I guess," I smiled sheepishly.

"That's wonderful! Devon's father was an artist you know," She pointed.

"Really? What was his name?" I asked lightly, afraid I was pushing my boundaries.

"Marcello Vincenzo," She said breezily and my jaw dropped. I looked over at Devon and he pretended to be very interested in his pasta.

"Are you serious?" I asked in disbelief.

"Of course," Liliana laughed.

"He's one of my favorite artists! He inspired me to start sketching," I squealed and Devon snorted.

"Well aren't you a little girl on Christmas then. I have a few of his works that I kept, if you would like to see them," Devon's mother smiled.

"That would be an honor, thank you," I grinned, trying to keep my composer. 

"We can started with the landscape collection first," She smiled and lead me and a pouting Devon off down a tangle of hallways.

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