Hunter

Chapter 3

-Hunter-

   "No fucking way!" Mae squeals, turning away from me to gawk at the paintings once more. My heart pounds in my chest so fast, I fear that she could hear it.

   She's turning around in disbelief, running her fingers along the wall, tracing the patterns each color follows. I can't help but smile proudly, happy someone thinks highly of my--as my father calls it--hobby.

   Honestly, I don't think I've ever met anyone that was as astonished as the girl in front of me. Not even my best friend reacted this way, not that it really matters. Jaime actually supports me in what I want to do.

   Now that the subjects on my mind, I'm reminded that I haven't called my father all week. I've been too busy here, working on all of this day and night for the past seven days. Then again, he hasn't called me either. Nothing on my call log shows me otherwise. I guess I just hope mom's okay.

   "Damn, you have to be an art major! I'll legitimately fight you if you aren't!" I snort at her words, shaking my head and looking to the ground.

   "I don't fight, though." I look back up to see her reaction. Her jaw drops at my words, taking them in despite how they beat around the bush. I'm too disappointed about this matter to actually say the words.

   "You're kidding, right?" I shake my head. "What the fuck?" I can't help but laugh at her vocabulary. I'd usually be taken aback, but the way the swear words roll off of her tongue sounds somehow innocent. It's as if a bear had the pitch of a rubber ducky. "Why not?"

   I shrug. "My father doesn't agree with it."

   "So?"

   "He's paying for my tuition."

   "Oh." She sighs. One side of her mouth lifts as she presses her lips together to form a sad smile.

   "Yeah." My voice trails off and we both sigh in unison.

   We stand in silence, me leaning on one wall and her doing the same on the opposite just a few feet away. She stares down at the paint splattered floor as I can't help but stare at her. Her bottom lip pokes out to form a pout and I feel a smile creep on my face.

   She's cute, I think. Her button nose scrunches up as her pout becomes accentuated. My smile grows and I find my heart starting to beat. Again.

   I felt it when I first saw her as well. The tears rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin. The sight left a pain in my heart. What for, I'm not sure. I just knew that I couldn't leave her there. I can't leave anyone behind, especially a pretty brunette in tears at the bottom of our school's staircase.

   The feeling only grew as we talked; her complimenting my taste in music and her smile. Her smile. My heart leaps at the thought of it, though I shake it out. I'm thinking too much into this.

   So what if she's pretty? There's a lot of other good looking girls around me, so her looks don't really justify my sudden change in heart rate. What does then?

   Was it her tenderness; the fact that she cried into her knees for something as simple as a bad hair day? No, that doesn't make sense. I actually don't know why she was crying, but for some reason, I was sure it wasn't just because of the gum in her hair.