Fighting the Disquiet

22

"It was one thing to make a mistake; it was another thing to keep making it. I knew what happened when you let yourself get close to someone, when you started to believe they loved you: you'd be disappointed. Depend on someone, and you might as well admit you're going to be crushed, because when you really needed them, they wouldn't be there. Either that, or you'd confide in them and you added to their problems. All you ever really had was yourself, and that sort of sucked if you were less than reliable."
― Jodi Picoult, 

I was nervously pacing back and forth outside the school gym. It had been set up as an art gallery to display the student art show which much to my dismay was going to be displaying mine. I felt like everyone was staring at me as they entered the building like they already knew which piece was mine. I nervously fidget with my earring as I wait for my dad to show up. He said that he was coming and although I knew better than to believe him I thought that maybe he would actually show up because he asked me several times what time it was at. I hated this feeling like I was trusting someone to be reliable and to show up and to care. It feels wrong.

"El!" Decker's voice rings in the evening air and I turn to face him. He's smiling widely at me and I see his parents behind him walking over to me.

He looks good in his slacks and button-down. He's wearing a yellow tie and as he stops to stand inches from me I can see all the golden specks in his irises.

"You came," I smile happily up at him.

"Of course. I said I was going to didn't I?" he chuckles shaking his head.

I smile, happy that he was there but also nervous that he was going to be seeing my piece.

He embraces me and pulls back but only to cup my cheeks.

"What are you doing out here alone?" he asks softly, studying my face.

How does he do that? Make me feel like he's going to see all my secrets with his gaze.

"Just waiting for my dad," I say.

He pecks my lips softly before slowly pulling away and running his hands through my hair.

I slowly open my eyes, sad that the kiss ended and he's smiling at me like he's amused at something.

"What?" I ask self-consciously.

"Nothing, you're just so cute," he smiles down at me, his words making me blush.

I roll my eyes and he drops his hands from my hair, locking his fingers in mine.

"Let's go in. I want to see your painting," he says his gaze lingering on me for a moment before turning to face his parents.

I smile at them, feeling awkward that they probably just witnessed all of that PDA.

"You didn't tell me your parents were coming," I mumble as he holds the door open for his parents to enter and then myself.

"They wanted to come and support you and Taylor," he shrugs.

I clench my jaw, reminded of the fact that my family wasn't here.

He pulls me along and we slowly walk through the gallery my heart thumping as we finally stop in front of mine. I stare at the nameplate beside my work and the list of materials used that are beneath my name and title in italics.

"Damn," Decker breaths beside me.

I feel my stomach tighten and I want to release his hand because I'm starting to sweat but he squeezes it. I notice his parents walk up beside us and stare at my painting.