Chapter 11

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        I walked into the art classroom and made my way over to Gerard, who was standing in a corner of the room, away from everyone else.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted me wrapping an arm around my waist.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I told him, twisting out of his grasp. “Today will not be another one of the touchy grappy days.” Gerard frowned, pulling out sketching pencils from a pencil bag I assumed was his. I gave him a confused look, hoping he would explain what we were doing today in class.

“Mondays are painting days, Tuesdays are sketching days, Wednesday and Thursday we work on our projects, and on Friday, whatever-you-want-to-do day,” Gerard gave me a you-should-know-this look.

“Oh. Sounds fun,” I set down my sketch book. Instantly, Gerard picked it up. I tried to grab it- I didn’t want Gerard looking through my personal sketches. Some were sad, one was what I thought the car crash my mom died in looked like, with blood and my mom’s body. I didn’t want Gerard to see it. It was gruesome. It made my stomach churn while I was drawing it.

Gerard held it just out of my reach.

“Gerard, give it back!” I tried to jump to reach it. Gerard flipped through the pages, studying each one of my drawings.

“This one is good,” He told me, pointing at one of my sketches of two hands ripping apart a heart. I froze. The next picture was of my own body, of me cutting my thighs. I did not want Gerard, or anyone, to see that.

“Give it to me. Now!” I raised my voice. Gerard froze, then looked down at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, slowly setting my book into my out waiting hands. I forced a smile on my face and said in a cheerful voice, “Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!”

“Class! Sketch books out, pencils sharpened, and get ready to draw!” Mrs. Allen called walking into the classroom. I sat down next to Gerard and opened up to a fresh, clean drawing page. Everyone started chartering away.

“So, what are you going to draw?” Gerard asked me, tapping his pencil against his page.

“Mmm… Maybe… I’ll draw an angel,” I told him, bending over my sketchbook and starting to draw.

“Let’s see who does a better picture,” Gerard mutter, hunching over as well.

“Hey, Toria… Can I ask you a question?” Gerard asked me after about fifteen minutes.

“Sure, go ahead, ask another,” I told him.

“So… this morning I saw you holding hands with… a guy. Are you... dating him?” Gerard seemed uncomfortable asking me that question. My anger flared.

“Just because I’m holding hands with a guy, does that automatically mean that we’re an item? I could be a homosexual! And, why would I date someone I just meet? Do you think I’m some kind of slut?” I raised my voice, but not enough for anyone else to overhear.

“No! I don’t think you’re a whore or a slut, or anything like that. I was just wondering if you guys were dating… And… you’re a lesbian?” Gerard whispered the last part. I smiled and shook my head.

“Nah, I’m straight. Worried that I had a girlfriend, did you?” I teased him. He blushed, went back to drawing, and muttered, “No.” I laughed and started to shade mine.

“So, we are hanging out on Thursday? You’re coming to my work, right?” Gerard asked.

“Yeah. I cleared it with my dad last night. You are going to have to show me around so I know the place really well. Mikey and I are going to town on Friday and I have to show him your store,” I told him. Gerard’s face drooped at me saying Mikey and I were going out into town together.

“Oh… Is that, y’know, going to be a date between you two?” He asked.

“No. Why? Is Gerard jealous?” I poked his side. He blushed and turned away from me. But he didn’t answer.

“You are!” I gasped at him.

“No. No, I’m not,” He mumbled, clearly jealous and embarrassed.

“Would it make you feel better if on Thursday, when I go to your work, was that was a date?” I asked, throwing my feeling out in the open. I really hoped that he did accept my offer. If not, I’d probably go hid under a rock for the rest of my life.

“Yeah. It would make me feel better if that was a date,” Gerard told me, his cheeks bright red.

“Good. It’s a date,” I said.

“It’s a date,” He agreed, followed by the bell ringing.

“Are you coming to lunch with me today? To meet my friends?” I asked him, standing up and packing my things up.

“Nah, I have to do... something. I busy,” Gerard told me.

“I bet you don’t have anything to do. You just don’t want to hang out with me,” I accused him. Instantly, Gerard started apologizing, “No! I do want to hang out with you! You’re fun to be around and you’re an amazing person! I like you! A lot! I’m just… just nervous about meeting your friends, that’s all. I… I had some friends, and then I went through a hard time in my life, and I pushed all my friends away, and now I’m scared to get- make new friends.” I frowned.

What hard times did he go through?’ I wondered.

“Hey, it’s okay. I understand. You can meet my friends whenever you feel ready. Tomorrow, I’ll eat lunch with you if still aren’t ready. How does that sound?” I offered.

“That sounds great. Now, go to lunch and hold your not-your-boyfriend’s hand. You better run, or you’ll be late,” Gerard told me, blushing slightly at a mention of my boyfriend. I smiled at him.

“Thanks, Gerard,” I told him. I kissed his cheek before turning away and running to the cafeteria. I glanced back and I could’ve sworn his face was redder than a tomato.

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