Pink Skies

PART 03

PART 03

            “Wanna watch a movie?” Seth asks, pouring hot milk into a mug.

            “Which one?” I look up from my bowl of cereal.

            “I got The Bling Ring from the library. With Emma Watson and that one girl from American Horror Story, y’know? Coppola’s latest, I think.”

            “You know you can’t use her last name because literally everyone in Sofia Coppola’s family directs films.”

            “Well, not literally everyone.”

            “You know what I don’t need right now?” His brows raise, waiting for me to finish. “Your sass.” I point my spoon at him, getting up to place my now empty bowl in the dishwasher.

            “Whatever. So, wanna?”

            “Can’t. Got plans.”

            “With who?” Seth smirks and I swallow, rolling my eyes. My cheeks are burning. With a certain beautiful boy with a camera and about one hundred and one different smiles.

            I sniff instead, “I have friends.”

            “Picasso doesn’t count, you know.” He raises a dark brow and as if on cue, Picasso bounces down from the chair he had been sitting on, and  rubs against my leg, purring. I flip Seth off, picking up the cat and stroking him. Seth laughs.

            Mom walks into the kitchen then, hands rubbing clay off onto her graying smock. Her black hair piles on top of her head in a bun, paintbrush skewered through, doing nothing much to help keep it in place.

            “Vin, have tea with me. And when I say that, I mean make me a tea,” Mom winks, falling into a kitchen chair.

            “Can’t,” I say for the second time this morning, “I have to go. Make your little child boy do it.”

            “Screw you, that wasn’t even a coherent sentence.” Seth scowls at me, careful to sensor himself.

            “Why, Vin, got a cute boy to meet?” Mom asks and I choke. “Because if not, you have no valid excuse.” I don’t say anything and as s he waits for an answer, her eyes widen in realization. “Oh, my god, it is to meet a cute boy! What’s his name.” She’s a bit too excited. Seth is staring at me too, grin threatening to break his face if I don’t do it first.

            “Bye.”

            “Farewell, Lovergirl. Karma’s a bitch.”

            “Watch your mouth, Seth!”

            “Sorry, Mom.”

                                                                  °°°

            “Tell me about you,” Isaac says and I glance up at him.

Click.

            When he moves the camera back down again so I can see his face, his smile is expectant. My journal lies open on my legs, tiny snowflakes falling down on it. It had started snowing again this morning, yesterday the world had just been frozen.

            “Um, okay. I’m seventeen. I have a younger brother and a cat named Picasso—”

            “What’s your brother’s name?”

            “Seth.”

            He chortles. “Seth? You have a cat named Picasso and yours is Vincent, and he’s named Seth? What went wrong there?”

            “He’s adopted,” I say and Isaac laughs. I smile slightly and blink. “That wasn’t a joke.”

            “Oh.” He laughs again. “Sorry. Why are you and your cat named after artists, then?”

            “My mom’s an artist. Sculptor.”

            “Your family’s super artsy, yeah?”

            “I guess. Seth’s really into music. But my dad can’t draw a line or play a note without scaring the cat. He’s a doctor.”

            “I see. That’s cool.”

            “Sure.” He looks down at his camera, pressing buttons I can’t see. He hunches over it to protect it from the snow. “What about you?” I ask. He pauses and looks up, sliding his camera into his coat.

            “What about me?”

            “Tell me about you.”

             “I’m Isaac. I turn eighteen next Friday. I like cameras. I like meeting new people but I’m bad at making them stay. I taught myself how to play guitar in freshman year but forgot the chords the next week.” He keeps talking, listing off all these useless facts I want to know, and I draw him in my book. When I look down I find that I’ve drawn him with wings like a fucking angel. Oh, my god, what is this boy doing to me. 

// yoooOOoOOoOOOOOoooo i've been updating everyday the last three days are you proud of me. watch as i this never happens ever again. :D

my endings are steadily getting worse and worse i am so so sorry pls forgive me.

thanks for reading though! and this is already ranked #92 in short story whaaaa? thank you so much i love you??

dedicated to willa for being the bomb diggity.

vote? comment?

- nova. //