Not Today, But Someday(55)

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, being purposefully respectful of her. She grins and starts eating her dinner when I sit back down.

Nate shocks his mother by volunteering to clean up after dinner, but she lets him. I help him rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher. Before we go back the theater, I take one more look at the card and sigh. He puts his arm around my shoulders until we get to the stairs. “It’ll be fine,” he assures me.

Instead of going to the theater, he directs me to the art room. “So did you paint last night?”

“As a matter of fact, I did.”

“Can I see?”

“No, I thought I’d be a tease,” he says sarcastically. I push him away from me and laugh. “It’s the one in the corner.” I walk around the easel by the windows and take a look at the large painting. It’s much brighter than any of the other paintings I’ve seen of his, but it still has so much depth, with varying shades of each color.

“It’s beautiful,” I tell him. “What was your inspiration?” I ask.

“It was one of your sushi rolls,” he says with a laugh. “The Rainbow Roll, actually. When I saw the colors under the incandescent lighting at the restaurant, they jumped right out at me.”

“It seems... well, honestly, it’s pretty.”

“Pretty, huh?” he asks, clearly insulted by my choice of adjectives.

“Yeah, that word doesn’t really describe it,” I admit. “It’s luminous. It’s vivid. It’s alive,” I say to him. “It makes it hard to wipe the smile off my face.”

“It makes you happy?” he asks.

“It really does,” I say.

“That’s all I wanted.” I look over at him, still smiling. “I’ll do it.”

“Do what?” I ask him.

“Your stupid pact. I’ll do it.”

“For you?”

“For me,” he answers. “I’m selfishly doing this for me, because you bring that out of me,” he says as he points to his canvas. “Being around you makes that happen, and if being your friend is what makes you happy, I have to do it. Because seeing you happy inspires me to create better art. It inspires me to be better, period.”

“That still almost sounds like you’re doing it for me...”

“Take it or leave it,” he says. “It’s the best I can offer.”

I walk back over to him and give him a hug. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

He holds me for a few seconds, then takes my arm in his hand when I pull away. “Were you hitting on me, just now?” he asks with a smirk.

“No!” I tell him, laughing. “This is what friends do,” I explain.

He pulls me back and hugs me again. “Well, then, I like what friends do.”





CHAPTER 18 - NATE



Before fifth period, when I normally have independent study, I run out to my car to retrieve the tacky plastic sword for my presentation of the Squire’s Tale. I’d considered not bringing it at all, but Miss Spindler said she’d deduct twenty points from our presentation if we didn’t have props. I was sure that my shirt wouldn’t cut it, a black tee that was given to me by distant relatives when we went to visit them in England a few years ago. Printed on the front was the Corliss coat of arms. It was my mother’s maiden name, a name she was proud of. I remember when we got back from the trip, I’d begged her to let me change my last name, complaining that Wilson was too boring and nondescript.

“It’s not about the name,” Mom told me, “it’s about the man who passed it on to you.”

I never asked her again. She would be proud of Corliss. I would forever wear the name Wilson with honor. Maybe not on a shirt – but in my heart, my father would always be with me.

I strap the belt around my waist and stick the blade through the holster, feeling rather stupid on my way back in to the building. Surely other people will have much more embarrassing costumes. The last bell rings, and I realize I’m late.

As I walk down the hallway to the classroom I only visit for about five minutes an afternoon on any given day, I spot someone who will definitely be ridiculed more than me. A girl with long, blonde hair fastened in two braids that fall down both sides of her back is wearing a full-length cream-colored dress. She paces back and forth near the doorway, her arms covered with flowing sleeves, her attention focused further down the hall.

I lose my breath when she turns around at the sound of my footsteps. “Nate, where have you been?” Emi asks, rushing up to me. Her shoulders and neck are framed with green velvet. The dress is more low-cut than anything I’ve seen her wear before. I remember she was worried that her mom wouldn’t be able to make it fit her, but she looks stunning. It fits her perfectly. She could be a bride, which makes sense considering the story she’s about to tell her class about. “Hello?” She waves her hands in front of my face.

I’d been taking her in fully, noticing how the cream color blended with her pale skin and the velvet brought out her eyes, only they look a different color now. I laugh to myself, realizing I’ll never understand those eyes. “Sorry, but you literally took my breath away.”

“Like, no one else is dressed up,” she says, rolling her eyes.