Dane's Storm(5)
CHAPTER TWO
Then . . .
Audra moved the brush slowly down the canvas, going over the line she’d already drawn. Her picture was done, and she was pleased with the result, but the model held her pose at the front of the room as the other art students focused intensely on the likeness they were still attempting to capture.
Movement out the window caught Audra’s attention and her breath hitched as she watched Dalila Townsend’s brother take a seat on the bench in the small park area next to the building. Her brow furrowed in confusion for a moment as she glanced at the empty seat Dalila usually occupied. Didn’t he realize she wasn’t here today?
He’d been picking Dalila up after class—every Tuesday and Thursday at five—since they had started a month before. At first Audra had thought he was Dalila’s boyfriend, until they’d struck up a conversation one day, and Dalila had caught sight of him out the window, saying, “Oh, there’s my brother. I have to go,” before breezing out the door. At the revelation that the boy was Dalila’s brother, something Audra wasn’t sure how to name had lifted in her chest, as if taking flight inside her. It couldn’t be relief. Why, she wondered, would a girl like her be relieved that a boy like him didn’t have a girlfriend? Or at least, if he did have a girlfriend, it wasn’t Dalila. And it would never be her, of course. An invisible girl like her would only ever watch boys like him through windows and across rooms.
“Pitiful,” she muttered under her breath, drawing her shoulders straight. She knew she should turn her gaze away from the window. She knew it was slightly weird—okay, maybe really weird—to watch him like she did, but she couldn’t help it. She was drawn to him. Not only to his looks, but his mannerisms, his expressions, the goodness she saw in him.
Today, he was bent forward, his elbows on his knees as he ate a sandwich. He glanced to the left and Audra’s eyes moved to where a stray dog sat watching him as closely as she was.
The boy paused, his hand halfway to his mouth, as he stared at the dog. Audra tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched the interaction. The boy hesitated for several moments, seeming to be weighing the situation. The dog continued staring, sad eyes imploring. The boy’s shoulders rose as if on a sigh, and he held the sandwich out to the dog. The dog approached him timidly, yet hopefully, taking the sandwich from his hand and eating it in one single gulp. He said something to the dog and reached his hand out tentatively. The dog took a step forward, nudging the boy’s hand with his head, and was rewarded with scratching under his chin and behind his ears for several minutes before a car honking somewhere nearby startled the mutt and he turned, running off.
Audra glanced at the sketchbook on her lap as she quickly and effortlessly drew the exchange between the boy and dog, switching pencils as she added detail. Movement in her peripheral vision had her closing the pad of paper quickly, right before her teacher approached from the side.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, looking at the completed drawing perched on her easel. “The shading is . . . absolutely stunning. Lovely work, Audra.” Pleasure filled her at his compliment, the look of genuine respect in his eyes. He smiled. “You always draw in black and white, though. Aren’t you ever inspired to add a bit of color?”
Audra smiled, shrugging, not sure how to answer his question. He patted her on the shoulder, chuckling softly, and walked to the next student. She glanced at the drawing, thinking about what the teacher had asked. Why did she always draw in black and white? Was it because that was the way she saw the world? Colorless? Yes, her heart whispered. Yes. She thought of her home, of the melancholy that permeated those four walls, of the way she’d always felt part of the shadows. But also of the way—secretly, deep inside—she yearned to seek the yellow warmth of the sunshine.
She glanced at the pad in her lap, opening it to the picture of the boy and the dog, the one she’d drawn with colored pencils. Audra’s world felt as if it was black and white, shades of somber gray, but surprisingly, to her, he was in color.
**********
“Hello?” Dane called, stepping into the room, empty except for a girl at the sink near the front. She whirled toward him, water droplets flying off the handful of brushes she held, her eyes wide with surprise. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, walking toward her. “I’m, ah, looking for my sister.”
For a moment the girl continued staring, the bunch of brushes clasped tightly in her fist, her mouth shaped in an O. Finally, she blinked and shook her head slightly, reaching backward and turning off the water, before facing Dane once again. “Your sister’s Dalila Townsend, right?” she asked softly.
Dane moved closer, nodding. “Yeah. I usually pick her up.” His brow furrowed as he glanced around the empty room and then at the girl.
“Dalila mentioned last week that she wouldn’t be in class today . . . something about an eye appointment?”
Dane grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, shit, that’s right. I totally forgot.” He glanced back to the girl. She looked down at her shoes for a moment and her dark braid fell over her shoulder. More hair seemed to have slipped out of it than was contained within it. He really looked at her now and an unexpected tingling raced through his blood. She was pretty in an unusual, exotic way. She was small and delicate, something about the set of her cheekbones and the slope of her forehead hinting at a native American ancestor. Her chin was pointy as was her little nose. But it was her big, thickly lashed eyes that captivated him, seemed to hold him prisoner for a moment. And her mouth . . . it was narrow, but her lips were full, and so perfectly pink. He swallowed. “Are you the teacher?” he asked in confusion. She looked about his age, maybe younger. An aide? He took a step closer so they were only a few feet apart now. Up close her skin was clear and smooth, a bloom of pink staining both cheeks.