I laugh. “Better than my eyes swollen shut.”
He grimaces. “Fuck you.”
We go back to class. And I feel exponentially better—and worse.
10
I hate that the first words out of my mouth are, “You got into a fight?”
Caleb shrugs. The proof is in the pudding: his lip is fat, split open by—I’m assuming, here—his friend’s fist.
Boys are idiots.
“Should I add that to my painting?” I ask dryly.
He shrugs again.
I turn back to my canvas. It’s… blank. He’s been fiddling with his paintbrush for the last ten minutes. His paints are still packed away. I assume his canvas is just a long stretch of white, too. It’s a little daunting. The first stroke.
Robert—er, Mr. Jenkins—is circling around the room, and he stops behind me.
“Interesting,” he says. “Is that how you see Caleb?”
I glance up at him. “Can I just paint the whole thing black?”
Caleb chuckles. “Well, that’s a new one.”
“You wanted a window into his soul,” I tell Robert. “And his soul is—”
“Okay,” he says, holding up his hand. “I’m sure there’s more to Mr. Asher than what meets the eye. You’re our only pair that hasn’t even started. Why is that?”
“I have her figured out,” Caleb says. “It’s just a matter of finding the right way to portray it.”
I hum. “Pretty sure he’s blowing smoke out of his—”
“All right,” Robert interrupts. “New plan.” He claps, drawing all eyes to him. “This assignment is now homework.”
Cue: many groans. Including mine.
“We’re going to work on technique and smaller projects in here, and I expect everyone to have a masterpiece using what they’ve learned over the semester.”
I meet Caleb’s eyes, but he doesn’t seem mad about it. In fact, he’s smiling.
Ugh.
He raises his hand once Robert is done. “I have a very rigid after-school schedule,” he says. “Especially with the games…”
“Well, lucky for us,” Robert answers, “this project is due before winter break. As you know, our art classes aren’t for the full year. You’ll be filling the gap in your schedule in the spring with a different art class… or study hall.”
“Is that new?” one student demands. She pushes her glasses up on her face and frowns.
“Yes, new policy went into effect over the summer.” He shrugs. “I go with what the school board tells me. Now, there’s no use debating it with me, Ms. Addams. Let’s get back to the actual class, yes? Put those canvases aside, we’re going to work on something new…”
We all shuffle our easels around so we’re not facing our partner. Once Caleb’s eyes are off of me—albeit momentarily—I let loose a breath of relief. Staring at him for forty-five minutes is exhausting.
He leans into me. “You’re coming to the game.”
I jerk. “No,” I lie. “Why?”
“Riley’s going.” He smirks. “Eli confirmed that while you and I were…” His eyes heat, and his gaze drops to my breasts.
I clear my throat.
“I’ll drive you.”
I shake my head. “I’m going with Riley, as you just deduced—”
“Riley’s going with Eli.”
“You’re bossy.” My palms are sweating.
“You’re a pain in the ass.” He shrugs. “It works.”
“What about Savannah?”
“What about her?”
I sigh. “You’re just going to kiss her again, aren’t you? Embarrass me in some way—” I stop when his smile just grows bigger.
“By all means, keep giving me ideas.”
I groan and turn back to the front of the room. Robert has his own canvas out, facing us. He’s demonstrating a new way to hold the brush and palette.
“I’ll pick you up at five,” Caleb whispers.
“No, you won’t.”
He tuts. “Arguing will do you no good, love.”
Ugh. “Fine.”
I can feel his smile, even when I’m not looking at him. We don’t speak for the rest of class—clearly, I’m no good to him once he gets what he wants—and he leaves as soon as the last bell rings.
I stop at Robert’s desk, clearing my throat. “I’m not sure I’m getting the hang of this painting thing. And being paired with Caleb—”
“Margo,” he says in a gentle voice. “We’ve known Caleb’s family for years. He may come off strong, but he’s a good guy.”
I sigh. Of course he’s already won them over before I’ve had a chance to make a case. This has been years in the making, and the luck of my foster placement. “He wants me to go to the game.”
“Oh? Making friends besides Riley? That’s great, honey.”
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I don’t know if he’s a friend, but… I guess it is good.”
He packs up his bag, and we walk to his car together.
“What time is he picking you up?” Robert asks.
“You’re on board with him taking me, even though he got into a fight?”
“Boys do that. Especially over girls.”
I ponder that as we climb into the car. Boys fight—especially over girls. Maybe that’s the angle I need to take. Get on his nerves by going after one of his friends.
Not Eli, of course. He’s smitten with Riley, even if he’d never admit it. She barely tells me as it is. And Theo is too… dark. Of the four, I’d go so far as to say he’s the most sinister of them. He barely speaks, never so much as looks at me. It’s like there’s a firestorm in his chest, and he’s just waiting for the perfect person to unleash it on.
I shiver.
That leaves Liam—the one Caleb got into a fight with, as a matter of fact.
Perfect.
At home, I take a quick shower and apply fresh makeup. I go a little heavier on my eyes, because after all, I have to seduce Caleb’s best friend.
Riley texts me that she can’t pick me up, with many frowning emojis.
Riley: But Caleb offered to get you!
I want to laugh, knowing she’s not really sorry. She’s probably too excited and nervous at the prospect of Eli taking her.
Lenora calls up the stairs that my friend is here. My friend. I scoff at the mirror, straightening my sweater. It’s one of my newer purchases, and it’s as soft as butter. My other clothes are worn out in one way or another. A hole in the hem, a loose thread, a bleach stain. Luckily, the uniform at school hides my lack of clothes.
I go slowly down the stairs, not expecting Caleb to be right at the bottom. He’s wearing a long-sleeve black shirt with Emery-Rose’s gold logo on the breast, dark jeans, and a black beanie. His hair curls out from under it, like the hipster version of Channing Tatum.
He grins at me, all charm, and Lenora sighs from the other side of the room.
“You weren’t supposed to come in,” I say through my teeth.
“What was I supposed to do? Honk from the curb?” He frowns. “That’s not very nice of me.”