I mean, your life is … Well, a lot has happened over the last few weeks, Ben. You need someone you can talk to.”
“I thought that’s why I was seeing Dr. Taylor.”
“Okay, well, it helps to talk to someone your own age who you aren’t paying to dissect everything you say.”
“I guess.” I sigh. I can only rely on Mariam for so much. Between the time difference and them traveling so much to speak with nonbinary and queer groups across the country, having a friend might not be so bad.
Thomas pats my shoulder and gives me one of those awkward smiles. “You want to go ahead and leave? I can get a head start on my grading.”
“Okay.”
There’s not really anywhere for me to go so early in the morning. Mrs. Liu won’t be in for another hour, and it feels awkward to be in the art room before she is.
I like Thomas and all, but I’m not prepared to spend an extra hour in his classroom with nothing between us but awkward conversation and even more awkward silence. So I head back to the quad. At least now I can be alone, and the place doesn’t reek of cigarette smoke and pot yet.
I find a spot to sit down and pull out my sketchbook, but I’d really rather be painting right now. Maybe I could do the sky, the mix of light blues and almost transparent purples. With just the barest hints of orange and green from the sun. It’s like now that I can pick up a brush, it’s all I want to do.
There’s this really cool drip painting I did last week, that I’m really proud of. Mrs. Liu was teaching the Art 1 class about Jackson Pollock, so she had me study and show off the way he did his drip-style paintings. Mrs. Liu actually liked it so much that she put it on the wall of the other student paintings, across from the one of the cardinal.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and search through my reference photos. The one true benefit of getting a new phone is that I can now clog all my extra storage with useless reference photos I’ll never get to use.
There’s one of a rose I have been using though, and I’m really liking how the sketch is coming out. I think I’ve got the perfect brushes to try and paint it too. The kind that will capture the delicate softness in the petals.
“Now, Benjamin, you know phones aren’t allowed at school.” I jump, and Nathan plops down next to me. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me,” I lie. “And school hasn’t even started yet,” I argue without looking at him.
“Touché. What’s that?” He points to the half-finished drawing. I guess it is hard to tell what it’s supposed to be when it’s just vague lines sketched out.
“A rose.”
“Oh, nice.” He dramatically rolls over onto the grass next to the concrete steps, lounging out. “Draw me like one of your French girls.”
I stare at him.
“Titanic?”
“That’s a little dated, don’t you think?” I say.
Mom loves that movie. I remember begging to stay up and watch it with her so many times when it was on TV. Little did I know that it’s almost three hours long, so I’d always fall asleep before we even got to the iceberg scene.
“Whatever.” He shrugs me off. “Hey, can I see any more?”
It takes me a few seconds to realize he means the sketchbook. “Oh, um.”
“Just one? Come on.”
I sigh and start flipping through the pages quickly to find something that’s actually finished. There’s this idea for a painting I’ve been playing around with. It’s just a sketch, but I’m done with that part of the planning. “Just one,” I say, handing it to him.
Nathan’s smile grows wider, if that’s even possible, as he takes the pad. He handles it with the same care I’d expect him to give a baby.
“It isn’t going to break, you know.”
“I know,” he says, still setting it in his lap carefully. “This is really cool, Ben.”
“Thanks.” I feel my face get hot, so I turn away from him. Oh God, I’m not blushing, am I? “It’s an idea for a painting I have.”
“You paint too?”
“A little.” I reach for my phone. “I’ve just got some photos though.”
“Can I see one, please?” He hands the sketchbook back to me, leaning closer to get a look at my phone. I hope he doesn’t question the background. There’s