“To draw them?” he asks. I nod, and he continues. “Nah. I’m not using these for anything special. This isn’t even my good sketchbook. See? I can’t remove the pages.”
“Do you do this a lot? Draw strangers?”
“Sure.” He reaches for his coffee cup with an index finger. There’s a splotch of black ink near his nail. “To be good at anything you have to practise.”
“Do you wanna practise on me?” I ask.
Pink blossoms across Josh’s cheeks as Abe slaps down two dishes. “Chicken broth and cheesecake,” Abe says to me. “That’s all we had.”
“Merci,” I say.
“De nada.” Abe rolls his eyes and walks away.
“What’s with that guy?” I ask, shovelling in the cheesecake. “Ohmygod, sogood.” I mumble this through a full mouth. “Youwannabite?”
“Uh. No, thanks.” Josh seems flustered. “You look hungry.”
I begin happily devouring the rest.
“So you live close by?” he asks, after a few moments.
I swallow. “Two minutes away.”
“Me too. Ten minutes.”
I must look surprised, because he continues. “I know. Weird, right?”
“That’s cool.” I glug my broth. “Ohmygod. This is incredible.”
He watches me quietly for another minute. “So…you were serious? You wouldn’t mind if I sketched you?”
“Yeah, I’d love that.” I love youuuuuuuuu. “What should I do?”
“Don’t worry about it. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”
“Ha! You’ll draw me eating like a horse. No. A pig. I meant pig. Do I mean a pig or a horse?”
Josh shakes his head in amusement. He opens the sketchbook to a new page and looks up. His eyes lock on to mine. I’m dumbstruck.
Hazel.
The word adds itself to my internal list of Facts About Josh. Sometimes his eyes had seemed green, sometimes brown. Now I know why.
Hazel. Josh’s eyes are hazel.
I float into a green-brown fog. The scritch of his pen mingles with the scratch of an old folk song coming from the speakers. Their combined tune is yearning and turmoil and anguish and love. Outside, storm clouds burst. Rain and wind join the score, and I hum along. My head clunks against a window.
I sit up, startled. My bowl and plate are empty. “How long have I been here?”
“A while.” Josh smiles. “So. Those drugs you’re on. Good stuff, huh?”
I moan. “Tell me I wasn’t drooling.”
“No drool. You look happy.”
“I am happy,” I say. Because…I am. My eyes dim.
“Isla,” he whispers. “It’s time to go.”