knees propped up so he can balance his notebook, because he’s where he belongs, in his own environment. I wonder what that feels like.
The hook of his nose to his mouth might be my favorite part, the straight lines suddenly curving right down to his mouth. But then he starts chewing on the end of his pen, and I just have to huff and roll my eyes. I’ll get back to that later. It’s his smaller details that will be the hardest to capture. The freckles across his nose, the shape of his brow, the way the corners of his eyes slope down just a little.
“Hey.” His voice makes me jump. Guess I was in deep. “I don’t get this one.” He hands me his notebook. God, how long was I out like that?
“You just need to find b.” I look over the question. It’s complicated. In fact, I’m really not sure it needs to be on an algebra quiz, it looks so advanced.
“I got that, Einstein, but that really isn’t helping.”
“Einstein was more into physics, though you aren’t far off.” I scoot closer to him. “Here, rewrite the equation with the log terms on one side.”
“Then you rewrite the substitution, right?”
“Yeah. And now you can solve it like you normally would,” I say, pointing to the newly formed equation.
“Okay, I think I’ve got it.” He grins, showing off those dimples again. I watch him quickly move through the rest of the problem until he finally comes to the answer, showing it to me for approval.
“Yep. That’s it.”
“Oh God, man, I could kiss you.”
My heart sort of sinks in my chest. “Yeah.”
He types in the answer, and I move back to my spot, grabbing my sketchbook before I sit on it.
“Okay, let’s see it.” Nathan sticks out his hand.
“Huh?”
He turns his laptop so I can see the screen. There’s a big “Congratulations” and a “Click Submit for Extra Credit” underneath it. “I finished the quiz, and you said you’d show me what you’re drawing when I was done.”
“Oh, it’s really nothing.” I can’t show him this. Jesus, what if he thinks I’m some weird stalker?
“Uh-huh. I called on you twice to help me out, and you were so focused on that thing you didn’t even hear me. So I really doubt it’s nothing.”
I didn’t even realize. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool. At least I know I can solve logarithmic equations by myself.” He closes his laptop and moves to sit next to me. “Now, show me.”
“You’re going to think I’m weird.” I flip open to the drawing.
“Well, you already sort of are but—” He stops when he sees what I’ve done. This is exactly what I was afraid of. He hates it, or he’s creeped out by it. I wonder if he’ll just yell at me or do something worse. I don’t think I can handle Nathan hating me.
“I’m really sor—” I start, but he stops me.
“Ben.”
“What?”
He takes the sketch pad from my hands, staring closely at the drawing. “You drew me,” he says, reaching toward the drawing like he wants to touch it, but at the last moment he stops himself. I guess he thinks he’ll mess it up or something.
“It’s not that good.” My voice isn’t much more than a murmur. Right now, my mind is pretty occupied with trying not to grin like an idiot. “It’s not even close to done.” There are no details in his clothes or his hands. Even the background is nearly blank, simple lines to fill in for the posters and pictures on his wall.
“You’ve got to give yourself more credit than that.” He starts to trace a hand along his nose. “You even got my freckles.”
“It’s okay.” I shrug.
“Have you ever thought about showing off your art?”
“Where would I even do that?”
“I don’t know. But people need to see your stuff. It’s amazing.” He looks back at the sketch pad, staring in silence. And I feel my heart thudding in my chest.
I’m walking through the empty halls of the school. It’s sort of eerie to be here when things are quiet. But Thomas has to stay after school today, some meeting about exams and graduation and spring break. I really can’t believe it’s March already.
I’d go to the art room, but it feels weird being there after hours. Plus, last time I did that, the janitor walked in on me, and there’s really nothing more awkward than just sitting around while someone else is cleaning, all while you try your best