Read The Boy Who Paints Me Online

Authors: Sharlay

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Teen & Young Adult

The Boy Who Paints Me (5 page)

BOOK: The Boy Who Paints Me
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Even when she heard Billy’s voice, she lay perfectly still, unaffected by anything anymore. Even the sound of him pulling up the zip on his expensive black trousers didn’t cause her to move.

 

“Good girl, you did Mitch a huge favor today. Tell him that he’s just earned himself an extra week,” he said before disappearing through the old, beaten, wooden door.

 

That was the first of many favors that she would do for Mitch. Favors that she would spend the rest of her life trying to forget....

 

“Rai!” I heard Leighton shout, dragging me out of my own mind.

 

As I took in the scene around me, I began to panic. I was sat on the floor in the corner of the kitchen with my knees up to my chest. Leighton was crouched down in front of me with a worried expression on his face. As I watched his hand rest on my arm, I began to lose it.

 

“Don’t touch me! Get away! Get away!” I screamed as I pulled myself further into the corner.

 

“It’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you. I promise, look, see I’m moving away,” he said as he put his hands in the air slowly and shifted away from me.

 

I could taste the salt tears on my lips and feel the burn in my eyes. I wasn’t supposed to cry in front of people, they weren’t supposed to see my weakness. I scrambled further away from him, even though there was nowhere to go.

 

“Just leave, please,” I begged.

He didn’t answer; instead he just nodded his head. He slowly rose from the floor, never breaking eye contact with me. I watched
as he got to his feet and began walking backwards out of the kitchen.

 

“I’m going, ok,” he said in a gentle voice.

 

As he disappeared out of sight a strange feeling came over me, causing me to run in his direction.

 

“Wait,” I whispered from behind him just before his hand had made contact with the front door. He slowly turned around to face me. He moved so carefully as if he knew that a simple move could set me off. “I asked you to leave...and you said yes,” I said in confusion as I kept my eyes on his. He looked at me sympathetically as though he understood so much more than I had told him.

 

“Yes,” he replied in a quiet voice as he stood staring at me.

 

“Thank you,” I whispered after standing in silence for a short while. He nodded his head before turning back towards the door again. I couldn’t move. My eyes remained fixed on his figure as he walked through the door 
willingly
, just because I had asked him to.

 

“Remember what I said, Rai; if you need me, just shout. I’ll hear you,” he said as he kept his back to me. Then he disappeared almost as if he were never even there. I quickly ran to the door, making sure that it was locked. Before I had the chance to take everything in a familiar feeling hit me. I ran up the stairs hoping to make it in time. I threw myself over the open toilet seat and let the contents of my stomach pour out. Just like all the times that I had done Mitch a favor. Only this time there was no Mitch, holding my hair back and telling me to pull myself together as I wished that he would just leave me to be alone. This time, I was finally alone but this time, I didn’t want to be....

 

 

 

Chapter 3

 

I lay awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling, all night. It wasn’t the comfortable sleep that I had hoped for; instead, I was haunted by images of last night. Breaking down like I had last night was not something that I did. Allowing someone to see me like that seemed ludicrous but somehow I still did it. A huge part of me was embarrassed, ashamed that Leighton had seen me that way. Then there was the other part of me, the part that felt relieved, and the part that felt tired. I was tired of running, tired of hiding and tired of pretending.  When I asked Leighton to leave last night, he wasn’t supposed to listen; he wasn’t supposed to obey because that was my job. It had always been my job. They
never
listened to me, followed my instructions or granted my wishes. He had. I asked him to leave and he did, without hesitation. When he walked out last night, he left me feeling something that I hadn’t felt in three years: safe, completely and ridiculously safe. And I had no idea why.

 

I spent last night trying to understand him and more importantly trying to understand myself. I was confused because I had spent the past three years training myself not to trust another man again, yet last night, I would have allowed Leighton to wrap me up in his arms while I cried. I didn’t understand, and I couldn’t comprehend it but for some strange reason, that made absolutely no sense, I trusted him. I trusted him with me; not Rain but with Rainie. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

After finally crawling out of my bed this morning, I decided to take a long, hot shower. Half an hour later, and I was feeling pretty relaxed. The house was unusually quiet, since I was used to waking up to Aunt Sarah clattering around in the kitchen while singing to herself. After three long years, I still missed that.

 

What surprised me most about this morning was the fact that I had convinced myself to get dressed, so that I could speak to Leighton. And that, was where I was, stood outside of his front door with my fist hovering in the air. I was having an internal battle with myself and trying to convince myself that it wasn’t too late to turn around, and run away.
What exactly are you going to say to him? Why would he listen to you now? He probably thinks that you’re crazy after last night.
The voice in my head was right but I couldn’t make my feet listen, instead they planted themselves firmly on the ground, refusing to move.

 

“I thought that I would interrupt the ‘to knock or not to knock’ speech that was probably going on in your head,” Leighton said as he opened the door with a smile on his face.

 

I instantly felt my cheeks heat up as I looked up into his beautiful brown eyes. He wasn’t acting differently with me, in fact he seemed happy. I let my arm fall beside my hip as I dipped my eyes and cleared my throat. “Erm, I wanted to apologize for last night,” I replied before I could change my mind and run away. It was silent for a while, and I instantly regretted coming around here. My eyes snapped up as I heard him let out a sigh.

 

“Never apologize for crying, Rai. People only cry when they need to,” he replied calmly as he watched me with an unreadable expression on his face.

 

“I’m not weak,” the words left my mouth before I even got the chance to think it through. I wanted to defend myself but not out loud. I didn’t want to draw reference to the fact that I had made myself look weak in front of him but now I had.

 

“No, you’re human.”

 

Our gazes locked for a moment, and I so desperately wanted to know what he was thinking but I had no idea. I tried to break the moment as I fiddled inside of my jeans pocket.

 

“Here,” I said as I held my hand out in front of him. I watched as he looked down at my hand and then my face in confusion. “For the groceries, yesterday, this should cover it. If not then I can get some more,” I said as I held the one hundred dollar bill in front of him.

 

“I didn’t do it for that,” he gestured toward the money in my hand with his head.

 

“I know but I would feel better if you took it.”

 

“And, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking it, so we have a slight dilemma on our hands,” he said as a warm smile filled his face. “Have you eaten?” He asked, confusing me. I shook my head as I stared up at him. “Good, then I’ll take you for breakfast. Oh, and I’m paying,” he said as he smiled at me.

 

“That’s not really paying you back then,” I replied as a small smile touched my lips.

 

“I don’t want you to pay me back,” he explained.

 

“Ok,” I finally gave in, returning the money to my back pocket.

 

“Can, I erm, show you something?”
Was he nervous?
I knew that I was but did I make him nervous. “It’s in the back yard,” he continued, interrupting my thoughts. I didn’t say a word; I just nodded my head. I trusted him,
but why?

 

“Was there anything else that you needed?” He asked as he closed the door behind us.

 

“Huh?”

 

“From the store, did you need me to pick up anything else?” He asked as I began following him through the house. The house was very colourful and smelt like a rainforest. I inhaled the smell for a moment and was surprised when I felt a calming feeling come over me. The walls were decorated with flower patterns and bright colors. It was different but nice.

 

“Erm, no it was fine thank you,” I hadn’t even looked at what he had picked up from the store yet. After last night, I just hid in my bedroom, and this morning I came straight out without checking.

 

“You didn’t look did you?” He said as he turned and smiled at me.
How did he know that?

 

I shook my head in shame. I was surprised when he chuckled.

 

“Come on,” he said as he guided me through the doors that led to the back yard.

 

When I looked up, I saw a small wooden house at the bottom of the back yard. It had a dark grey roof and glass windows. I could see a few paintings through one of the windows.

 

“What is it?” I whispered as I tried to peer inside the window again.

 

“Let me show you,” he replied simply before opening the doors and scooting to the side so that I could step inside.

 

“Wow,” was the only word that I could utter as I looked before me. There was a wooden, fold up chair right in the centre of the room that sat in front of a large easel. The easel was made of wood and the piece of paper that hung from it, currently had the beginnings of a painting on it. I wasn’t sure what it was but I wanted to know. There was a small wooden cabinet to the right of the room, pushed right against the wall. There were pencils, paintbrushes and paint pallets sat on top of the small cabinet. There were four pictures hung up on the walls that simply took my breath. The first two were of a lake surrounded by a mass of large green trees. It looked as though the two pictures were painted from different angles. I didn’t ask permission when I took a step closer to examine the paintings. They were breathtaking. The attention to detail could not be missed. Every tree was its own shape, and every leaf had its own personality, and I didn’t even think that it was possible to have so many different shades of blue in one lake. It was beautiful. I turned my attention to the third painting. It was a field, filled with golden crops. When I stepped closer, I noticed a little girl being thrown in the air by a man. I didn’t need to ask to know that it was her father. The picture didn’t have to speak to me to tell me that they were happy, it was easy to see. I could feel it.

 

“Did you paint these?” I asked without taking my eyes from the painting.

 

“Yes.” He sounded nervous.

 

“They’re amazing,” I beamed before turning to the final painting.

 

“Thank you.”

 

The final painting was of a woman, probably in her late sixties. Whoever this was, he had studied her immensely because every line, crease and shadow was there to see. You could see that she was beautiful in her youth. She wore bright colors and something told me that this was the same woman that had decorated this house.

 

“Is this your grandmother?” I asked as I turned around.

 

“Yes,” he said as his eyes glanced up at the painting.

 

“These are incredible, Leighton,” I whispered as I turned to look at the paintings again, studying them one by one. “Who taught you to paint like this?” I asked in awe as I turned to face him again.

 

“No one, it’s just what I do when...” he trailed off.

 

“When?” I prompted; eager to know the answer.

 

“When words aren’t enough, I paint,” he said as his eyes met mine.

 

“Oh,” was the only word that I could say. His stare was so intense that I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. The strangest thing was that although it made me uncomfortable, I liked it. I couldn’t look away. It’s like I knew a little more about him just by looking at the paintings. It felt so personal.

 

“I’m glad you like them,” he said, finally breaking his gaze.

 

BOOK: The Boy Who Paints Me
3.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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