5.00PM Saturday, Nov. 30th
1395 Lexington Avenue, New York
*Finding Mr. Right Now*
Okay, so Oscar said I had to have experience with at least two guys, and have a bad and good relationship – well, this is perfect! All I have to do is date two guys, and treat one “bad”, and treat the other “good”. Oscar is a total genius.
But now I had to find two guys. That would be the hard bit.
It wouldn’t work if I told them what I was doing. No, I had to keep it a secret.
I dabbed on the big canvas, adding a little paint here and there, trying to match the colour of the flower in front of me. I did it unconsciously, without thinking. I was so used to this mindless cycle, I’d stopped needing the time to consider it.
I stopped, and looked at my painting. Not one of my best, but it was alright.
But it had nothing on the painting next to me.
Looking at the colours, so delicate, so right, blurs of greens and yellows and oranges, colours that I didn’t see before, were all twisted into the beautiful shape of a flower. It was an exact replica. Way better than any I’d ever seen.
“Hey, Blane.”
Blane smiled at me, tossing me a fortune cookie. I dropped my paintbrushes (totally not good for them, but why should I care?), and caught the cookie. I ripped it open as he looked at my painting. Blane was a sweet-looking kid. Smart. He had curly black hair, and blue eyes. The whole superman package.
“Thanks,” I said. “You had Chinese takeaway again, last night? Don’t you know how to cook?
“Nope,” he said, smiling as he sat back down onto his stool again.
“Sure you don’t want it?” I offered half-heartedly. You had to do that, to be polite.
“I’m sure. You know I hate fortune cookies. Freaks me out when I get a bad one.”
“Right…” I said, snapping it in half. I picked out the little note, as I bit onto the cookie.
“Help!” I read out. “I’m stuck in a fortune-cookie making factory!”
I raised my eyebrows, as Blane chuckled. “Does that count as a good one or a bad one?” I asked.
But he wasn’t listening. He was too busy staring at my painting
“Wow,” he exclaimed. “That’s amazing! How do you do it?”
I blushed, but I knew he was just being polite. His painting was the one that was amazing – he managed to express so much of his own emotion in the painting, without changing the image at all. He had real talent. Me, I was just here so my parents would give me my allowance – fifteen bucks.
“Thanks. But yours is way better.”
“What are you talking about? Your painting is so abstract, so different, so beautiful. Mine is just a boring, emotionless paint on a canvas.”
He was kidding, right?
“You’re kidding,” I said, smiling.
“I’m not kidding,” he replied, so sincerely it made my heart jump.
I bit my lip, flushing red. He was always like this. He was such an honestly nice guy (not like that idiot Oscar. I hate him so much right now). Blane was exactly the kind of guy I would fall for –
