Painting Sky (7 page)

He was sitting on the couch with a blond all over him. Music blasted through the TV and several beer bottles were on the table. His eyes wandered to Cody; his usual smirk was in place, while his right hand rested on the girl’s butt his left was holding a beer bottle.

Cody tensed and started complaining about his brother necessity to piss everyone off. I was almost hidden by Cody, but then he moved to pace in front of the TV and left me standing at the door. Keith’s eyes never followed his rambling brother: he stared right at me. His smirk was long gone, a wrinkle set on his forehead, and he pushed the girl off of him. I realized what had caused the change: he’d noticed his jacket on my shoulders. I was waiting for him to tell me to take it off, but he never did.

Cody had to pull my arm for me to follow him up the stairs, as I hadn’t listened to a word he’d said to Keith, nor had his brother, by the way he was looking at me. Of course he would be mad at me for taking his jacket without asking. Not even Cody was allowed to take it, so it was a miracle that the jacket hadn’t been ripped from my cold, dead body tonight.

“He’s unbelievable. I can’t—I don’t even know how we could’ve been raised by the same parents. It’s like he’s an alien. Yeah, that’s it. Maybe he’s adopted.”

I pictured Keith with a green complexion and antennae and a giggle escaped my throat. The comment about being adopted bothered me, though.

“Don’t say stuff like that. He has a right to be different from you. Yeah, he can be an ass, sometimes, but he’s still your family. I know how much I would enjoy strangling Ry and Matilda, every now and then, but I love them.”

“It’s different and you know it. Ry messes with you, but he shows he loves you. Keith, on the other hand, enjoys making me feel bad.”

“Maybe he forgot we wanted the house to ourselves.” I shrugged. Maybe this slip of his was something I could use in my favor. I would never have my first time with Keith downstairs with his tongue down some chick’s throat, so that’s exactly what I told Cody.

“Oh, come on, baby. He has his own company tonight.” Cody advanced and I stepped back, falling on the bed. He took the opportunity to lie down over me, kissing my cheek and lowering to my neck.

“Cody, no. I know I said… but I can’t focus now. Please.” My hands fumbled on his shoulders.

He groaned and sat on the bed’s edge, resting his head in his hands. “Come on, Jane. I’m starting to believe I’m the problem. Don’t you love me?”

That was low, but I could understand him, somehow. I did love him—that wasn’t the problem—but the sparks were missing. I was praying they would come any time now. Every time he kissed me, I searched for that feeling I heard my friends talk about. The love was there, but the passion wasn’t. I was starting to fear that there was something wrong with me.

“Of course I love you.” I hugged his back and rested my face on his shoulder.

“I think you’re anticipating too much. There’s just too much expectation.” He looked at me, kissed me softly, and pushed the jacket I was still wearing off my shoulders.

“Yeah, maybe.” I leaned back. “But not when someone’s home.”

“Fine. I’m going to my room. If I see my brother again, I can’t promise that I won’t break his neck.” He got up and left my room, shutting the door with hostility that made me shiver.

I pulled the jacket up to my shoulders and lay down, hugging it against my chest.

Cody was hurt, but he had a point. We’d been dating for so long that it shouldn’t have been this complicated. I silently thanked Keith for the first time in my life while I fished the crumpled paper from his pocket. I opened it over my knee, and, there, in writing so messy that it was difficult to decipher—writing that could only have been Keith’s—it said: “Happy birthday, Sky. K.” It wasn’t that weird, really, but it made me think. Keith must’ve written this before I came down the stairs this morning. He had to have planned on leaving the note on the counter, or something. Why had he waited for me if he’d had classes?

I closed my eyes and crumpled the paper in my closed fist.

T
he next day I woke up to the beeping of the alarm I hadn’t turned off last night. Seven was too early to be awake on a Saturday. I stretched my arm to turn it off and noticed several things. First, I had never taken off the dress from last night—I had fallen asleep on the bed, but I was now under the covers.

Second, my dress’s zipper was undone to the middle of my back. Third, the jacket and crumpled paper were nowhere to be found. Cody must have come back to what? Apologize? Was he supposed to apologize about something? Maybe.

I went to the bathroom to take a shower and clean the makeup off my face. I thought about what I would say to Cody today. At last, I settled on pretending that nothing wrong had happened last night.

The house was quiet until ten, when Cody came down the stairs. My stomach turned at the sight of him, but it settled when he lowered his body over the couch, where I was sitting, to kiss me good morning.

“Did you sleep well? Sorry I was so grumpy last night. You know Keith has that effect on me.”

I smiled and almost sighed silently. “I know. It’s okay.” I followed him into the kitchen and sat on the stool while he got his cereal ready. “I’m sorry, too, for—you know—the change of plans. Did you come back to say something, or was it just for a goodnight kiss?”

“When?” He sat on the other stool with confusion on his face.

“Last night. Didn’t you come back? I fell asleep in that dress.” I didn’t continue with the explanation. I was already feeling that I’d been mistaken about who had been in my room.

“No, baby, sorry. I should’ve said goodnight, but I fell asleep right away, too.” He looked remorseful. “Classes are killing me, already. I have an exam Tuesday, so this will be a weekend of studying. By the way, I’m going to Ty’s house this afternoon. You know we camp there when we have too much to study. It’s closer to the dorms and most of the guys live there. I’ll try to be home as much as I can, though.” He kissed me and stood up to wash his bowl.

I had noticed he spent a lot of time out, and so did Ryan. I wished Keith and I could be friends. I would be lonely for a while.

“Can I borrow your car today? I’ll take you to your friend’s house and then drive to town. I need to search for some supplies for drawing class.”

“Sure, baby. We can have a little time just for us until lunch.” He grabbed me by my hand and took me to my room. We rarely went to his—I didn’t understand why, but I never asked. Maybe it was because of all the clutter.

Keith was leaving his room when we reached mine. The door was open and he stretched his arms over his head, making his shirt rise up over his stomach and arms. He had another tattoo on his lower abdomen but I couldn’t see what it was.

“’Morning, love birds.” His smirk was almost a smile today. Cody mumbled something behind me and shoved me to my room before I could answer his brother, who seemed to be in a good mood.

“I’m not gonna talk to him for a long time. I just want to rip that smile off his face whenever I see him.”

I nodded, knowing the feeling.

We spent the morning and part of the afternoon talking about school. I showed him my drawings and knew he would praise them, saying they couldn’t possibly receive less than an A for a grade. He knew nothing about art and wouldn’t be any help. There was only one person in this house who could help me.

Neither my brother, nor Keith showed themselves during lunch; I was glad to have some alone time with Cody.

When we were ready to leave, I put my coat on and followed Cody outside. The weather was getting colder: autumn was coming quickly.

I spent the next hours running through our town and the next one, searching for the damned material without any luck. Every salesperson said the same thing: “At this time of the year, the art students have already bought them all.” I would thank them for their help and go to the next store.

At six o’clock, the sky had darkened considerably and I decided it was time to give up. The art store at school had said they would receive the material during the next week, so I would have to make do with my old ones and hope my professor wouldn’t notice.

The house was quiet when I arrived. Some soft, depressing music was coming from the attic. Go figure: Keith and depressing music. I would have bet my allowance that he only listened to rock.

I tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs, thinking about how I could sneak up on him. When we were kids, scaring the hell out of me had been one of his favorite hobbies. One day, I almost fell off the balcony. I think he stopped shortly after that.

I remembered Cody saying that Keith didn’t even let Ryan go upstairs. I didn’t need any more drama in my life right now. Keith had never hurt me physically, but I didn’t know how far I could push him.

The music stopped while I was cooking dinner for myself. I regretted not having thrown more noodles in the pan and was contemplating asking Keith if he wanted to share mine when he stepped into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know anyone was home,” he grumbled. I’d done the right thing by not pushing him today—but I could still tease him.

“I’ve been home since six. I heard your music and almost went upstairs to see if you’d taken your own life, yet. A person can dream,” I mumbled loud enough for him to hear.

His head shot up. “Never ever go upstairs. Do you hear me?” He took a couple of steps forward and I backed away.

“Yeah, yeah, Cody advised me on that. I’m not looking for a broken neck, so you’re safe with me.” I turned to stir the food.

I felt him behind me and gripped the wooden spoon, waiting for his reply.

“I would never hurt you, Sky. I hope you know that.” He soaked the piece of bread he was holding in the soy sauce and shoved it in his mouth. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t throw you out if you ever went into the attic, though.”

With that, he left to the living room. I dished up and followed him. I was waiting for a TV show to start, so he could not spoil my evening.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned. I sat on the couch as far away from him as possible, set the plate on the table, and lunged for the remote.

“I don’t think so. Like I said, this is my house.”

“It’s Cody’s, too, and you already had the house for yourself today and yesterday.”

“Are you sure about that?” he asked, holding the remote away from me.

I jumped to try to reach it. “Yeah, I am. I was out all afternoon. Yesterday, you ruined something for your brother.”

“I wasn’t talking about that—I was talking about this house. We can talk about last night, if you want. I ruined something for my brother? What about you?” He smirked and I gave up on the remote. I sat back on the couch and pulled my legs under me. I would make him believe he was winning and then steal the remote.

“That’s none of your business. What about this house?”

“It’s none of your business,” he mimicked in an annoying voice. He smiled that lopsided smile that made all the girls drop their panties—the smile I hated so much.

“You started the conversation—you end it. My relationship with Cody is none of your business, but this house is kind of mine, since I’m living here.” I eyed the food, which was getting cold.

“If you’re not going to eat, I’ll take your food, too.” He added in a whisper, “This house isn’t Cody’s. But he asked me not to tell you, so, here I am, ruining something else for my brother.”

“What do you mean it isn’t Cody’s? Wasn’t this house your grandfather’s?”

“Yes, but he left the house to me and the money to Cody. I took care of him during my senior year, when I lived here. Taking care of someone dying from cancer isn’t easy.”

He was trying to sound nonchalant, but I could see the heavy feeling settling upon him as he averted his eyes. Keith was trying to sound like he’d had no choice but to be here, but I knew well enough that wasn’t the case. His mother had cried for weeks when he’d begged her to let him live here. I had also known how much Keith had cared about his grandfather when we were little and he’d visited our hometown.

“It must’ve been difficult, seeing someone you love like that.” He turned to me, frowning, like it was me who was rude all the time and not him. I could be nice—we could even be friends, if he would let that stupid guard of his down.

“It was. He was the father I didn’t—never mind.”

“Your father is incredible. You can’t blame your inability to connect only on him. You were always jealous of Cody and that was what strained your relationship with your father.”

His frown deepened. We were doing so great and I had ruined it. Of course, I had to defend Carl: he was amazing with his sons. Keith had pushed him away because Cody seemed to be their father’s favorite. He was the sociable one, the jock, and he accompanied his father to games.

“It’s always my fault. I’m the one who is always wrong. I’m used to it.” He shrugged, threw the remote into my lap, and stood to go upstairs and sulk.

By that time, the TV show had almost ended, my food was cold, and I couldn’t appreciate either of them. I had hurt Keith this time, and, as much as I wanted to gloat, I couldn’t. I didn’t like to hurt people.