Landlocked (A water witch novel) (18 page)

***

After a resounding no to the Jaron taking me to school idea, I was sitting in Aunt Sylvia’s Prius on the way to school fiddling with the bracelet that I had no memory of putting back on my wrist. “Don’t pull on that, darling. You don’t want it to break.”

I stopped toying with it. “I really do hate that snake charm. Do you think you could get it off? It’s so creepy,” I said, turning my attention to her.

“We’ll see. I don’t think it’s too bad, and I wouldn’t want to change what Johnny made for you.”

I sighed. I was trying not to be a total teenage girl and be mad at Sylvia for not letting me drive to school with Jaron, but I’d be lying to myself if I pretended that things weren’t a bit strained between us.

“I’ll see you later,” I said before opening my door.

“I’ll be here, three o’clock on the dot,” she said.

Translation, you can’t even spend one minute without a guiding hand.

I closed the door and walked away. When I was on the school steps, I stopped and closed my eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths. I had never really been mad at Sylvia, but the way that she was acting with this… it was driving me crazy. Before Jaron, I hadn’t even notice how structured, planned, and supervised my life was. Now, no matter how badly I tried to ignore the fact, it remained. My life was a fish tank that my aunt and uncle designed; they set up the walls, scheduled the feedings, and decided who could swim with me.

Large hands squeezed my sides, and I squealed. I opened my eyes and turned around to see Jaron standing behind me. After recovering from the momentary daze that his perfection always put me in, I pushed his shoulder. “You scared me.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t stand around with your eyes closed you wouldn’t be such an easy target,” he said with a grin. “So can I walk you to class?”

I rolled my eyes. “Since you weren’t allowed to drive me to school, I’d say I owe you a walk to class.” I sighed.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Yes—”

He shook his head.

“It’s just my aunt and uncle. They are driving me crazy. I want a little freedom like a normal person. I mean, I love that they care, but they care a little too much.”

“I see. Well maybe, a little time away from them is in order,” he suggested as we walked down the hallway.

I paused. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated, opened his mouth and then closed it again.

“What is it?” I prodded.

He looked away. “Spring break is right around the corner. I was thinking that we could take a trip to the beach, since you’ve never been.”

“Just us?” I gulped.

“Clarissa could come if you want. Just a normal teenage spring break away from your too protective aunt and uncle,” he said, still not meeting my eye. “How does that sound?” he asked, finally looking at me.

A real spring break away from my family. Just me, Clarissa, and… Jaron, at the beach. It sounded amazing. I couldn’t even imagine how wonderful it would be to swim in the ocean, the place that I had dreamed about my entire life, with Jaron.

“Yes! I don’t know how we can do it. Sylvia and Dylan are sure to say no. But I’d love to go with you. I mean, I’ll find a way.”

“Okay,” he said quickly. “Now let’s get to class.” He looked over his shoulder as we walked the rest of the way.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“Uh… I’m still new here, remember? Just trying to get my bearings,” he said, putting an arm around my shoulder.

I sighed. I wondered if I’d ever get used to him being around.

We walked into English, and the class was still half-empty. Jaron took the seat directly behind me; luckily Mr. Walker’s class wasn’t assigned seating. I set my books on my desk and turned around.

“Now, how am I supposed to concentrate on all of the incredibly important things Mr. Walker is bound to say with you in front of me?” he asked.

I shrugged. “How am I supposed to concentrate with you behind me?”

“Touché.” He laughed.

“And besides, being so distracted, you won’t have to hear any of my completely wrong interpretations of classic literature and feel the need to correct me.”

“Only a fool would try to correct you, Maribel,” he said, smiling. “And just because you are too beautiful for me to pay attention to our teacher doesn’t mean I’ll miss a thing you say.”

“I better watch what I say then, huh?”

“Never, I like knowing what’s on your mind,” he said, his eyes sparkling.

I seriously doubted that. All that had been on my mind was how little I knew about him and trying to figure out how to get him to open up to me.

“What is it?” he asked. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

I took a breath, not wanting to tell him, and was saved by Mr. Walker starting class. Clarissa walked in just as the bell rang and smiled triumphantly at beating it. She hurried to her seat and shifted her knowing gaze between me and Jaron. Mr. Walker moved on to the lesson and the hour flew by. The second the bell rang, Jaron was beside my desk, taking my books up with one hand and hoisting me up with the other. I beckoned Clarissa to follow us with the arm that didn’t have Jaron attached to it. She got up and followed us into the busy hallway.

“Hey, Siamese twins, what’s up?” she asked.

I laughed. “I have a top secret spring break thing in the works. Do you have any plans yet?”

She shrugged. “Daddy says he’ll be home during spring break, but if that falls through… I’ll do anything to get out of my house and away from my mom,” she said with a laugh.

I tried to smile along with her, but it was hard to pretend to laugh. She joked about how her mother treated her to make it seem like it didn’t bother her, but I knew better. “I’ll talk to you at lunch,” I said, turning down the hall leading to Art.

“Okay see you guys there,” she said.

Jaron held my hand as we walked into Art class, which the room full of girls noticed. Everyone watched us as we made our way over to my station. Jaron didn’t seem to mind, so I tried not to let it bother me. The watching turned into whispering, and as we passed, I picked up what one of the girls was saying.

“Maybe I should paint him too,” she giggled.

Jaron looked at me questioningly and whispered, “What is she going on about?”

“Uhm…” Oh my gosh! We were almost to my station and I still had the canvas that I had painted of him set up on the easel. I would die if he saw it. I looked over and sighed. It was covered, at least. Maybe I could get it out of there before he could see it. “Let me just move this…” I said and carefully grabbed the canvas, making sure that the cloth kept it covered. As I walked away, I felt a tug and the fabric fell away. A corner of it had been caught on the easel. My face fell in embarrassment as Jaron’s eyes grew wide.

“Wow,” he said, moving over to me. He lifted a hand to the canvas and then to my chin. “You are pretty adorable when you’re embarrassed, you know?”

I didn’t know what to say to that, but noticed that my horror was being witnessed by everyone in class; even the usually vacant Ms. Read was taking notice.

“Let’s sit down,” I said, trying not to meet his eyes. I set the painting back on my easel and sat down with my face in my hands.

Jaron sat at the station next to me and let me hide for a minute before speaking. “So, what’s with the portrait? I thought you were mad at me last week.”

I tried not to meet his eyes. “Yes, I was actually thinking about how badly I was going to chew you out when I was painting this. I wasn’t really thinking about painting when I did a portrait of you,” I said, looking at the painting. It was a great likeness, though he couldn’t fully be captured by a paint brush. Now that I had gotten to know him a little better, the image was much too dark. It was all deep blues and smokey grays. If I had to do it again, I would have brought some light into it.

Jaron stared at me, his brow raised in surprise. “You painted this without even paying attention?”

“Yep.”

“So, what can you do when you are?” he asked.

“Well, if you ever happen upon the painting I have hanging in the school, I guess you’ll know,” I said while taking my paints out. He had a way of diffusing my embarrassment, and I was feeling like the earth didn‘t need to swallow me up after all.

“You won’t tell me where it’s at?” he asked.

“Nope, I won’t. You will probably know which one is mine without me having to tell you.” I was sure he would know it was mine, but he’d never happen across it.

“Okay, I’ll start paying attention. So, since I’m new to this art thing, why don’t you teach me how to mix paint for the perfect color?” he asked, taking out his stash of paints, which was much smaller than mine.

“All right. What are you wanting to paint?” I asked before grabbing my paint palette.

“I can’t just tell you. What if I’m no good at painting? Besides, an artist never reveals his secrets,” he said with a grin.

“That’s magicians. Now come here,” I said while putting a few colors on the palette. I decided I was going to mix up some lighter grays and blues for the portrait. “Okay, I want a light gray, try to make it for me.” I handed him the palette.

“Gray is easy,” he said, moving his paint brush to the black.

I grabbed his wrist and tried to ignore the electric current that our touch always caused.

“Never mix with your brush. You’ll have little pockets of unmixed color,” I said, handing him my palette knife. “Mix it with this. It makes a consistent color.”

He took the knife and scooped a little bit of black paint and pulled down a lot of white, which was good. Most people tried to add the white to black to make gray before they understood color; it would take tons of white to make the black go to light gray. His hands worked the paint delicately, folding it over and in on itself, just like waves cresting on the ocean.

“Well, it’s a light gray, but it’s sort of bland. I want to know how to make deep colors, you know, multihued,” he said, looking at the paint.

“That’s the great thing,” I said with excitement. “You can make the colors however complex you want, blue is traditionally added to gray to give it depth.” I pulled a bit of blue into the gray and blended it quickly. “I like adding a little splash of yellow to it too. Somehow it makes it feel warm, even though it’s still the color of stone.” I worked in some yellow and smiled at the color, it was exactly what the painting needed.

“That’s amazing,” Jaron said, breaking me out of my art mode.

I looked up at him and his eyes were bright with excitement.

“I’ve always thought so too,” I said, thinking of how much I had enjoyed making my own colors since Sylvia had taught me.

“No, not the technique… you are amazing,” he said, taking the palette from me and setting it on the table. Pulling both of my hands in his, he looked at me and shook his head. “You almost glow when you’re doing something that you love,” he observed and tucked a strand of fallen hair behind my ear.

“Compliments of glowing are usually reserved for pregnant ladies,” I teased.

Jaron laughed and hugged me with one arm, I wanted to close the small distance and crush into him, but a very small part of my brain reminded me that we were in a classroom surrounded by people. How could he make me want to melt into him, even here with dozens of eyes to see? Why didn’t I care that all of the students would probably be gossiping like crazy about how intimately he looked at me, and I him? Shaking my head to clear my mind, I intended to turn back to my work. Intentions are funny things, though; one second had my eyes back on my painting and the next… I was giving Jaron a quick peck on the cheek. I wasn’t embarrassed. I hadn't meant to do it, but I just wasn’t able to turn my attention away from him without at least a quick kiss.

“Now let me paint, I don’t want that gray to go to waste,” I said, leaving him looking happily stunned.

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you ask,” he said.

After a few minutes of staring at the canvas, I had decided where the highlights needed to be and started painting. “So, do you want to go out to lunch with me and Clarissa?” I asked and turned to him. His eyes widened. “Well, I just thought, you know, we could talk about the spring break trip…” I bit my lip.