Painting Sky (42 page)

Later that night, I lay in Matilda’s bed. I kept turning, but sleep didn’t come.

“You can sneak out, you know, and meet him in his room.” I almost fell from the small bed at Matilda’s suggestion. There was no doubt as to who she was talking about. “Go down the trellis outside my window, and text him to open the door.”

I turned down the idea immediately, but it was so tempting. I missed him, and, even if it was just to talk or cuddle, I wanted to see him. I picked up my phone and texted Keith. “Are you awake?”

While I waited for the reply, I turned to my sister. “How did you know?”

She smirked at me. She was so much like Ryan, but, at the same time, much different. “It’s all over your face whenever you look at his house, or when your face falls when his family showed up without him. Did you two hook up?”

I bit my lip, thinking about me and Keith. It had been much more than hooking up, but I didn’t know if Matilda would understand. I nodded, but didn’t offer an explanation. She smirked again, but turned her back to me, knowing I wouldn’t tell her anything more.

“Yes, why?” Was Keith’s reply. I could just picture his eyebrow shooting up in confusion and apprehension.

“If I came over, would you open the door?”

“Why?”

“You know why.” It was the only thing I could come up with.

After a few seconds, he answered with a simple, “Yes.”

I smiled and jumped from the bed. Matilda laughed at me. I could break my neck going down that trellis, but it would be worth it. I stopped as I pulled my jeans up, realizing that I’d never felt this giddy with Cody. I had never felt this much excitement about going to meet him, or that I wouldn’t be able to breathe without him. I quickly finished dressing, knowing that I would have to be quick outside, because my coat was downstairs.

Keith was already outside, pulling the door open so I could come in. He placed his finger over his mouth, as if he needed to tell me to be quiet. I didn’t want anyone finding us any more than he did.

When we reached his room and closed the door, we turned to each other, not knowing what to do. I stepped closer and placed one freezing hand over his shirt. He pulled my hand between his.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered.

I answered with the truth: “I have no idea.” I leaned my face toward his and his lips found mine. His kiss felt like a feather. It was the quietest kiss, so far, and the most romantic, yet. It wasn’t about passion, now—it was about love. I felt it coming from him, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

We didn’t make love that night, but held each other until the morning sun showered the room in light. He followed me to my house, through the kitchen, and then left in his car. I had no idea where he was going, but I hoped he would be alright. Tonight was the Christmas Eve dinner, and I wanted him there. We would open presents afterward, and I thought we should be with our families.

I spent the day in the kitchen with my mother, Samantha, and the rest of the women in our families. Talk about equality.

“So, Jane, how’s school? I hadn’t had the opportunity to ask.” Samantha sat next to me. I didn’t know if this was casual conversation or if she was fishing for something.

I shrugged. “It’s fine. I think I’ll have good grades on my finals.”

She smiled. “That’s good, but grades aren’t the only thing in life.”

“I keep telling her that.” My little sister butted in, eying me knowingly. I warned her with a look.

Samantha and the rest of the women laughed. “And how are my boys?” My eyebrow shot up at the plural use of the word. She had been so detached from Keith lately that I’d never expected her to bother asking about him. One look at her anxious face told me she meant it—she honestly wanted to know about her older son.

“They’re fine. Cody’s studying so much that he’ll end up sick. Keith’s the same, but he sticks to the house to work on his paintings.” I paused, noticing some disappointment in Samantha’s expression, and some sighing from the stove—probably from my mother. A sense of protectiveness washed over me and I smiled, proudly. “Keith’s making some serious money with his paintings. He’s very well-respected by the professors and galleries. He’s already on the path to becoming famous.” I was stretching the truth, but I believed in my words.

Samantha’s smile told me she wanted that for her son—she just didn’t believe in him. It was so sad. We had that in common: my parents didn’t believe in my art career, either, even though I wanted to be a designer, not a painter. They still had the misconstrued notion that art didn’t feed anyone.

I texted him when I took a break from the kitchen. “Please come to dinner. I need you here.”

“Will do,” he replied. I sighed in relief. I was starting to feel so lonely without him near, even in a house full of people. He was the only one who really saw me.

We were setting the table when he arrived with my brother, laughing and shaking rain from their shoulders. I smiled at them, and, when I turned, found my mother frowning at me. I kept the smile—if I didn’t, it would confirm any suspicions she had.

“Go wash your hands and help me with the table,” I told them both. Ryan kissed my forehead and Keith messed up my hair when they went past. The feeling of being whole settled over my heart.

I was so screwed.

I
sat between Cody and Ryan, with Keith in front of my brother. We exchanged a couple of glances, but kept them to a minimum. We knew if we kept at it, someone was bound to figure us out. No one engaged Keith in conversation, and I didn’t try, either. He was happier to be a bystander.

After washing the dinner plates and placing deserts on the table, as a buffet, we gathered around the TV and fireplace. The room was packed, so we had to sit on the floor, close to each other. This time, Cody gave me space and sat on the other side of the room, while my sister squeezed me between Keith and her, even though there was more space on her right. This forced me to be almost on his lap. This wouldn’t go unnoticed by my father or mother.

The presents started to go around the room. A mess was created with paper everywhere, and everyone was laughing. I felt Keith’s heat, and, based on his posture, he was relaxed at last. A small smile decorated his handsome face.

Everyone loved my presents, as they should have, after the trouble I’d gone through to find something perfect for everyone. They also loved Ryan’s presents, which everyone knew had been bought by me.

“Sure, I’m the Christmas master! I knew you would love that CD, Dad.” Ryan winked at me in front of everyone, and we all just laughed.

Matilda snickered. “Oh yeah? What did you buy me, then?” She was opening her present, but hid it behind the paper.

Ryan was thoughtful for a moment and then he had it. “What else? Something pretty for your ugly face!” Matilda threw him the ball of wrapping paper and gave him the finger. My parents yelled at her to not be crude. The grandparents in the room just laughed, knowing how those two behaved.

Keith received some random, non-meaningful presents, but he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. I was. After all, I was a Christmas perfectionist. He loved the cell phone cover I gave him and the CD Ryan made me buy for him, and he thanked everyone for the other gifts. His cookies were being delivered, and, a few minutes later, we were all eating them. It wasn’t a bad gift, after all.

We scattered after the last gift was delivered. Some picked up their presents, while others tidied up the mess in the living room.

I took that chance to whisper in Keith’s ear, “I have another gift for you, but I can’t give it to you here. Maybe later, like last night?” I asked. His brows shot up and I smiled, shaking my head. “Not that kind, pervert.”

We had to endure a long movie with our families, once again squished next to each other on the floor. When the fire died down, my mother distributed blankets, and I snuggled under one that I shared with Keith. He first shook it off, but, after a few nudges from me, he understood the meaning. He shot me a worried glance, anyway. I grabbed his hand under the blanket.

That night, I needed Matilda’s help to get Keith’s present down the trellis. She was just so amused that she didn’t even complain about the cold getting inside.

Keith ushered me to his room and closed the door, enveloping me in a warm embrace. He kissed my temple and moved me to the bed, eying the present. I handed it to him and waited… and waited. He took a long time, just looking at the wrapping. I was about to make a snide comment about the present being on the inside, but he started pulling at the tape, carefully, as if it was precious. My heart swelled.

His eyes met mine when he opened the card. His eyes warmed and darkened, and then they lowered to the drawing. I waited even more.

“I love it. Thank you.” His muttered voice was interrupted by me, as I turned the drawing around. He looked up, with realization on his face, and he moved everything aside to pull me to his lap. His lips met mine with much more ferocity than last night. His parents were at the end of the hall and Cody was in the next room, but, at that moment, I didn’t care about anything else. He suppressed a moan by biting my lower lip.

“I have something for you, too, and it’s really coincidental.”

He went to pick up a similar cardboard piece from his wardrobe. It wasn’t wrapped, of course, and I didn’t wait as long to open it. I also wanted to savor the moment, though. I understood him, then. Every moment between us felt like it could be the last, and we both wanted to frame each one in our brains.

It was the drawing he’d made yesterday, of the two of us. I wanted to frame it and put it over my bed, but I knew that couldn’t happen—at least, not until I had my own place, and maybe not even then. He’d completed it some, by shading and working on our faces. His eyes were now looking at me on the paper, so beautifully drawn that I felt them through the paper, like it was a message to me. He didn’t need words in his drawing, like I had in mine. His eyes were the unsaid words between us.

“I want you,” I whispered, leaning down to kiss him, while pulling the shirt over my head. His eyes darted lower, to my breasts, and then to the door to make sure it was locked.

“We need to be extra quiet,” he said, before pulling me over him once again. We quickly took off our clothes, not bothering with foreplay, this time. He made sure I was ready for him before pulling a condom from the nightstand, and then he moved me to be on top of him. I’d never been in control before and it scared me. The part of me that had always felt self-conscious was surfacing. He had been with dozens of girls. I couldn’t compare.

“Stop worrying. I’m here. It’s just the two of us, okay?” he whispered against my lips, erasing some of the worry. I started moving and it wasn’t difficult to let go. I felt powerful, being the one here with him—the one he’d made a drawing for. I was the one who put that satisfied, smug smile on his face. He pulled me next to him to cuddle.

“You’re perfect. Never doubt that, Sky. Perfect. Too much, for someone like me.”

“No. If I can’t have self-esteem problems, you can’t, either, okay?” I kissed his chest and snuggled closer.

I felt complete.

The next morning, we woke up a little later than was prudent, so we had to dress in a hurry. Our parents would wake up early, as it was Christmas day.