Painted Memories (15 page)

I followed his eyes and looked into my living room. “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing.
Want me to come in and keep you company? That is, unless you've got someone else in there.”

That’s when it dawned on me why he came. “Oh, I get it,” I said with a mocking grin. “You didn't come here to really check on
me; you wanted to see if I was with someone else, didn't you?”

“Well, I think I have a right to know if you're seeing someone else.”

“No, you don't. This,” I pointed back and forth from him to myself, “whatever is going on between us, is not serious. We've been on a few dates. If I choose to go out with someone else, that's my business. I told you I wasn't settling on anyone.”

Tyler took a few steps inside the door and placed his hands on each side of my hips. “Oh, come on, baby. I knew you didn't really mean that.”

I pushed his hands off and moved away from him. “No, I meant it. And it's becoming really clear that I made a good decision.”

“What are you saying, Lilly?”

“I'm saying that whatever you think we had going on is over. I don't know why I ever thought it would work anyway. You're simply not my type. No offense.”

Tyler's brows furrowed and his lip twitched upward. “Not your type? What? You think you can do better?”

“There's more to a person than just looks. While you look pretty as a picture, your ego could use a makeover.” I said matter-of-factly.

“Ego?
You think there is something wrong with my ego?” he demanded.

“What I think is that I feel like shit right now, and you say you’re ‘checking up on me’,” I air-quoted with my fingers. “If you already distrust me, I don't need to be in any relationship with you.”

“But I—”

“Goodbye Tyler.”

“You can't do—”

“I can. It’s over. There's nothing else to talk about. Please leave.”

Tyler stared at me a moment, as if trying to decide what he should say next. He turned on his heels to leave, but turned back as he reached my door and gave me his dirtiest look.

“You were such a waste of my time,” he said, shaking his head. “Bitch,” he mumbled under his breath before turning and striding away.

I let him leave without another word and slammed my door behind him. My headache was stronger than ever and I felt queasy again. What Tyler said pissed me off, but I was glad it was over. To say I wasted my time would have been a lie. In truth, it allowed me to see what I really wanted.

Drew
.

Now I had to figure out if he still wanted
me.

It took until Monday before I felt like myself. I made a mental note to never drink like that again. It just wasn't worth it. I was surprised Drew never stopped by to check in on me. As worried as he was when I left his apartment, I naturally assumed he'd come. He didn't, which told me I was probably right about him wanting to forget anything ever happened.

Even though the beginning of the week went pretty good, it seemed getting past Wednesday might be a challenge.
 The day started out crappy. I overslept by thirty minutes. It may not sound like much, but when you're already pushing it every morning to get up as late as possible, while still making it to work on time, thirty more minutes is a luxury. After throwing on something and fluffing up my hair, I rushed out the door right on time... but barely.

Disappointment
awaited me behind the steering wheel when my car refused to start. I looked under the hood, pretending I actually knew what the hell was wrong with it. I wiggled the battery cables back and forth before trying to crank it again. Nothing. Just as I expected, because wiggling a couple wires was supposed to work every time, right? Since Drew was the only person I knew near my apartment, I looked around for his car, but didn't see it. He was probably already at work. Since I didn't have his number programmed in my new cell phone yet, there was no way I could call him for help.

Damn it!
I had to be at work today. Since my teaching assistant already had the day off, I didn't have anyone else to stand in for me, and I didn’t want to call in sick if I didn’t absolutely have to. Luckily, I remembered Andrea. I dialed her up to see if she could swing by and pick me up. Thankfully, she was on her way in and said it wouldn’t be a problem.

The day went better once I made it to work. The only downside was the look Drew gave me whenever he saw me. The few times I passed him in the hall, earlier in the week
was only from a distance. He looked up at me and made a tight-lipped face before turning to go in the other direction. On more than one occasion, I thought about marching down to his class and asking him what his damn problem was. How could he be so concerned and interested in me one minute, then ignore me the next? I decided then that I could treat him the same way he was treating me, if that was the game he wanted to play. And I could start now because it was time to take my class to Art.

Andrea told me she'd come early to pick me up and take me home, so I made sure I grabbed my bag before walking my class down.

“All right, guys, take your seats and don't forget the sentences you have to write using your vocabulary words for homework tonight. See you all in the morning,” I said, sticking my head inside the door as the children filed in.

“Wait. Ms. Morgan, would you mind giving me a hand please?” Drew asked. “I got a little behind and didn't get a chance to refill the supplies on the table.”

I sighed and put on my happy face instead of ignoring him like he'd done me ever since Saturday. “Sure. What can I do?” I walked over and set my bag on his desk. His shoulders relaxed as if I just lifted a weight from them.

“Thank you. Can you just get the paint over there from the
back cabinet and add the coordinating colors to each cup? I'll pass out the brushes and paper,” he said. “Everyone, go to the bins in the back and put on an apron, please. And roll your sleeves up while you're at it.”

I did what Drew wanted, but couldn't help smiling
at finding him so flustered. Usually, he was so meticulously organized and prepared. It was funny to see his schedule thrown out of whack. I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and checked the message in case it was Andrea outside waiting for me. It was just the opposite. She texted me to say she was going to be late, and unable to leave until her regular time. Thankfully, I had something interesting to do… watch a bunch of eight-year-olds painting their own unique masterpieces. After Drew instructed the class to paint their favorite memories from the summer, I knew things could get interesting.

Once the kids got started, I walked over to Drew's easel and picked up a paintbrush. “Mind if I hang out and watch the kids for a bit? My ride is going to be late.”

“Yeah, okay. Sure,” he said, walking away without looking at me.

It was the first time since Saturday that he'd been close enough for me to get a good look at his face. His lip looked puffy and cut near the corner, like he'd been in a fight or something. I laughed at myself for thinking such a thing because I couldn't see why anyone would want to hurt him. I guessed he probably hurt himself cleaning the art studio.

I dipped the brush in brown paint and lightly swept it up the page. My skill at drawing a decent-looking tree trunk was seriously lacking. I continued talking, assuming he was still listening to me. “My stupid car wouldn't start this morning so I had to get my friend, Andrea, to pick me up. She works over at the high school and couldn't get off early like she hoped, so I have some free time.”

“Oh, well you're welcome here anytime.” I jumped hearing the words next to my ear. I didn't notice he
was behind me. “Crap! Look what you made me do. Now my tree trunk really does look like poop.”

Drew chuckled and a few of the kids sitting up front let out a resounding, “
Ewww.”

“Has anyone painted a tree yet? Who wants to show Ms. Morgan how it's done?” Drew asked with a sly grin while several students raised their hands.

I walked around and observed the artists, all of them trying their hardest to paint their very best. I couldn't help watching Drew as he walked around on the opposite side of the room, stopping here and there to assist each one of them. Even though nothing these kids were painting could be considered a masterpiece, he treated them all like they were fledgling artists. It was so sweet to watch.

Before I knew it, the hour flew by and the bell rang, signaling the end of another school day. I helped Drew clean up and asked if he needed my assistance with anything else.

“Actually, could you help me carry some supplies to my car? Then I won't have to come back more than once.”

I looked at my cell phone and frowned. “Sure. I'm just waiting on Andrea. Apparently, she's still running late.” He handed me a box and I threw my bag over my shoulder before heading out the door.

“Do you need a ride somewhere? I don't mind taking you wherever you need to go,” he asked, shutting the trunk of his car.

“Oh, no, I don't want to make you go out of your way. I'll wait.”

“I'm only going home first, so it wouldn't be a big deal.” He eyed me for an answer.

I might as well ride with him. It would save Andrea time, since she wouldn't have to come all this way. And really, what was the big deal of a ten-minute car ride, right? Maybe those few minutes would give us the chance to talk about what happened, if he brought it up. I tried to reason with myself. “Okay, sure. I'd really appreciate
that.” I pulled my phone out to let Andrea know not to worry about me.

“Anytime,” he said as he opened the car door for me.

Believe it or not, a ten-minute car ride can feel like an eternity when you're waiting for the obvious to come up. During his whole class, not once did he make me feel like he had any “issues” with me. Recalling the indifference he displayed toward me earlier in the week, I wondered why he wouldn't bring it up now that we were alone. I guess the best I could do was simply forget about it and move on. If he was going to, then I had to also.

I climbed out of his car and pulled my bag from the backseat. Drew popped the trunk and I walked around to help.

“Oh, I've got it from here,” he said, swatting me away.

“Hush and give me a box. There's no sense in you making extra trips when you don't have to.” He gave in and handed me a box. Of course, it had to be the one with the paint bottles and I hoped I didn't trip going up the stairs with them in my hands. It would be one giant mess I'd never live down.

Eyeing the couch on the way in, I set the box on the kitchen table. As hard as I tried to ignore what went on there, I couldn't help my mind drifting back to the image of us lying there, with his body against mine, his lips brushing over my neck. “Thanks for your help,” I heard him say and I turned back to him.

“Yeah, sure, no problem,” I said as I walked towards the door.

“Lilly?”

I turned around, my hand on the doorknob to hold it open. “Yes?” He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short of saying anything and looked down at the floor.
Just freaking say it already. I know you want to!
I screamed at him in my head.

He looked back up, a reserved smile on his face and said, “Have a good night.”

I sighed and mumbled a quick, “Thanks,” before leaving without another word.

The baked spaghetti came out a lot better than I expected. It had been a while since I tried to cook a meal that didn’t take longer than ten minutes to prepare, or only require a microwave. This time, I was able to use my stove
and
oven, which was a first for this apartment. When I cooked real food, (as opposed to the microwave variety,) my only problem was cooking way too much of it. Portion control was never my strong suit. I decided to pack some up and take it to Drew as a thank you for the ride home this afternoon. There was no way I could eat it all anyway.

I taped a quick note to the cover of the dish and went up to his apartment. I
assumed he'd be in for the night, but received no answer after knocking several times. He told me earlier that he'd been going over to the studio every day after work, so that was probably where he was. It was better this way. I didn't think I could take one more awkward conversation with him, which was exactly what seemed to happen every time we were together now.

I took a chance and left the bowl in front of his door, hoping no one would steal it. Not wanting to go back to my apartment, I decided to take a lazy walk outside.  I went back to grab my sweater, knowing that the chill of October would sneak up on me if I were out
too long. I could hear the ringing of my cell phone through the door and tried to unlock my apartment door, but the stupid key wouldn't work. Once I was finally inside, I checked the caller ID to find Andrea had sent me a text message and I had one missed call. Assuming she probably wanted all the juicy details about Drew bringing me home, I went ahead and called her back to give her the letdown. There were no juicy bits.

I explained the dinner with Drew at The Boat House and morning after with Tyler, which she especially got a kick out of hearing. Andrea was quite happy with the advice she'd given me a while back and knew I'd find out sooner, rather than later, which guy I should be with. I quickly reminded her that one of them pretended nothing ever happened, which was not part of her brilliant equation. She shrugged it off and told me to give it time, and eventually it would come out. But if I really wanted to know how he felt, then I should just ask him.