Destined

Twenty

He didn't follow me. And I was glad, the last thing I needed was another scene involving us. Talia was in the cafeteria waiting for me when I got there. She had a big smile on her face that made me feel better instantaneously.

"Someone looks happy," I said as I sat down.
"I've been waiting all night and morning to talk to you,"
"Ah yes, how did yesterday's date go?" I asked.
"Amazing, Krissy. I had no idea Tyler was quite a charmer, I really like him. He's nice, funny, has a little bad boy cred..."
"He's a jock,"
She laughed, "That too. Aren't you getting anything to eat?"
I shook my head, "Nope, not really hungry,"
"So why did Hunky Pants keep you back? Didn't do your homework?"
"Wow, news travels fast around here,"
"Can you blame us?"
"Indeed I can,"
"What's up?"
"T, he's hiding something,"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we've been hanging out for weeks and he never once mentioned he knew my dad,"
"Uh, well that's weird," She said. "But don't overthink it, Krissy, let him explain himself,"

After two other classes, I was seriously wiped out for the day. I was tired and hungry and my irritation with Vince was back full force. He'd sent me at least five messages and called me twice, all ignored. I didn't truly understand why I was angry in the first place, but I was. I already found it hard to trust him before, my mind kept playing tricks on me where he was concerned, and my treacherous body was no help either. I needed to distance myself from him and focus.

Talia had gone home with Tyler, so I had my time to vent in silence as I drove back home. Once there, I took a much needed shower and dried off quickly, changing into pajamas. Polka dotted shorts and a tank top. I went to the kitchen and warmed up some left over stir-fry and ate so quickly that I choked on a carrot. I went back up to my room and frowned when I found Vince seated in what had become his chair. I wasn't even surprised to find him there, so frequent his visits had become.

"Are you ready to talk now?" He asked.

I glanced briefly at the folder in his hands, several of my drawings practically falling out of the binder. He'd been going through it.

"What gave you that idea? The numerous unanswered calls or the messages I never replied to?"
"Sarcasm is truly the lowest form of wit, Miss Sanders,"
"And I thought we were done climbing through windows,"
"I didn't think you'd let me in if I knocked," He stood from the chair. "You're really good," he gestured to the binder, then he pulled one  sheet out and held it up. "This is my favorite,"

I looked at the drawing in his hands. The first of many of him. The one I didn't do justice because I couldn't get his eyes right. Still, his hair was the main event. Even I had to admit that I'd done a good job at that. I'd forgotten to add it to the others.

"Is this me?" He asked.

I was glad he hadn't discovered the other binder. The one I kept hidden under my bed. That one was solely dedicated to him. I had drawings upon drawings of him. Smiling, staring into space, laughing. And his eyes, dear lord, his eyes, my favorite feature to draw. I literally had several sheets of just eyes. I'd colored them blue, others gray, and others a mixture, tried different shades and tones and ratios of the two. And each drawing just made me want to draw more.

"Kristina?" He asked bringing me out of my thoughts.
"No, of course not. It looks nothing like you," I snatched it from his hands and returned it to the binder.
He sighed,  "I should have told you,"
"But you didn't," I said staring at him. "Why didn't you?" he sighed and I knew he was either about to lie or not answer my question at all so I didn't give him the opportunity. "Get out,"

He looked at me and I thought he would do as I ask. I was wrong. He walked right up to me and stopped less than a foot away from me. I could feel his body heat waft into my skin. The familiar scent of pine drifting into my nose and making me light headed. He leaned over and like the other day in the car, he just, sort of sniffed me.