I Wish You All the Best(36)

“Just … unexpected.”

Unexpected?

Nathan still looks awestruck. “And this one?” He crosses the room in just a few steps, staring at the one of the cardinal. Part of me wants to hide it, because I really don’t think it compares to the drip-style one.

“Yeah. What do you think?” I’m almost scared to ask. He’s liked everything I’ve done before, but I’ve never seen him react this way.

“They’re great!” he says, but something about the way he says it seems un-Nathan.

“They’re fine. It’s really no big deal,” I say. “I probably should’ve worked on it some more.”

“Yeah.” He scoffs. “Right, just don’t forget about me when your paintings hang in the Louvre or something.”

I laugh a little more loudly than I mean to. “Because that will totally happen.”

“Never say never, De Backer.” Nathan starts back toward me, his eyes bouncing between both of my paintings.

“Come on. Mel’s going to kill both of us.”

“Are you going to the game?” Nathan asks.

“It’s funny, Mel asked me the same thing.”

“And?”

I shrug. “Baseball and dances? Not really my thing.”

“You know, prom is in a few months.” He adds that out of the blue.

“Oh yeah?” It’s a hard thing to ignore. Student council’s already ambushing people inside the cafeteria to vote on the theme. “Do y’all ever rest?” I ask.

I’m not saying that two dances in three months seems excessive, but …

“Tradition is tradition,” Nathan says.

“Is that all student council is good for?” I tease him. “Planning dances?”

“Hey!” He sounds angry but his grin gives him away. “We plan other things. We did a bake sale last October.”

“Was there a dance?”

“No,” Nathan says, sounding totally unconvincing. “Technically.”

“How do you dance at a bake sale?”

“Stephanie managed to find a way. So, are you going?”

“To?” I ask, knowing full well what he means.

“To prom?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Really?” His smile fades. Is he actually disappointed?

“Dances,” I say again.

“Even prom?”

“Even prom,” I repeat. “I didn’t go last year either.”

We walk all the way across campus to the gymnasium, where there are a bunch of my fellow classmates running around, trying their best to follow the orders of the girl standing around in the middle with the megaphone. “I’m guessing that’s Stephanie?” I say under my breath.

“Nathan! There you are.” She runs toward us before Nathan can answer, eyeing the cans. “Is that the paint?”

“Well, Steph, it’s not chocolate pudding.”

“Funny,” she says, while aggressively not laughing. “Okay, you two go ahead and get to painting the stage pieces, we need those first.”

“Oh, I’m not in—” I start to say, but she shushes me with a hand.

“Didn’t ask. I name you an honorary student council member, we’ll get you credit hours if you need them. Now get to work.” Stephanie points to the large wooden panels propped up on the stage. “Now!” she screeches into her megaphone when we don’t immediately run onto the stage. Stephanie almost earns herself a can of paint emptied on her precious gym floor for that.

“Sorry, she can be a little …” Nathan considers his words carefully. “‘Abrasive’ is the nicest word that comes to mind.”

“Meleika is going to kill me.” I climb the short ladder to the stage.

“When she finds out Stephanie dragged you into this, she’ll forgive you, no worries.”

“Why are you guys waiting until the week of?” I grab the screwdriver from the toolbox on the stage and pop open the paint can, reaching for the wooden stir stick.

“We were more behind than we realized, and now we’re scrambling.” Nathan eyes the boards in front of us. “At least we won’t need these pieces until Friday.”

“Are you going to dress up the rest of the week?” I swipe the excess paint on the edge of the can and pour it slowly into a tray.

Today’s theme was simple: school pride. Everywhere I looked, there were people dressed in royal blue and gold. Nathan’s sweater is less royal than azure, but with the gold trim at the bottom I don’t think anyone’s going to challenge him on the specific shade.

“Yes, and where is your blue and gold, my friend?” he asks.

“Don’t have anything,” I say. I probably should’ve dressed up. I have a feeling I’ll need the points in English.

“You don’t want to dress up? Tacky Thursday is going to be fun.”

“Tacky Thursday?” I eye him.

“You dress up in your tackiest clothes!”

“Of course!” I try to mimic his enthusiasm.

“Where’s your school spirit?” Nathan pops the lid off his own can.

“Don’t really have any.” I roll my brush through the deep blue. “Are we just painting this whole thing?” I ask.