The Boy who Broke the Rules

12

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I stayed in my room all day, finishing homework and, when that was done, sketching. An idea for a new design had been nagging me since yesterday.

Grabbing my notepad and wax coloured pencils, I started to draw. It came to me so easily, and yet there was a heaviness in my chest and an urgency that pushed me to draw faster. I was afraid it would disappear in my thoughts and I would never find it again.

The bracelet would be Celtic for sure. And maybe I'll use strips of leather or hemp yarn for some of the complicated knots. The colours showed themselves to me as I drew the curves and lines: blacks, browns, dark blues, maroons, and beiges mixed together in perfect harmony.

I needed to get my hands on a small metal coin with Celtic design so I could incorporate that in the center of the bracelet. I would have to go to a trip to the city to visit antique stores, flea markets or consignment stores to find what I was looking for. If I couldn't find it, then I'd go custom or, the easiest route, through the internet.

Ordering online is the easiest, but there was no excitement in it compared to when I go shopping for just that perfect piece and feeling it in my hands. Sometimes I would even feel the pieces vibrating as if they were telling me to use them for a purpose.

I sketched like a madwoman, remembering the intensity of Noah's blue eyes, the isolation that he kept close to himself like a shadow.

But every time I finish the design, it wasn't quite right. There was something missing, and I couldn't put my finger on it. Ripping the paper off, I started another, and another, and another, until I was finally satisfied.

There would be no clasp in the bracelet, I decided. It would just slide over his wrist easily whenever he wanted to wear it.

His wrist?

It didn't occur to me until after I finished the design that it was for him. For Noah.

When at last, the last of the detail was done, my neck and wrist hurt. I wasn't sure how long I was bent over perfecting the design on paper, but it was worth it. I reached for my shoulder, massaging the knots out.

Glancing at the clock I noted that it was almost five in the afternoon. I had been here since morning. I jumped in my seat when I heard a knock on my door.

Finally, I started to notice my surroundings and noted a sea of crumpled papers around me. My mom would open that door soon and see this mess.

"Mom? Can you give me a second?"

Jumping off my chair, I hurried inside my bathroom and grabbed a trash bin. I started picking up papers and dumping them there.

"Can you come downstairs right away, Parker?"

"Yes, mom!"

Five minutes later, I was downstairs, sitting on the dining table and eating my mom's freshly homemade cookies. She always made the best ones. Crunchy outside and ooey gooey on the inside. She also added pecan nuts and white and dark chocolate chips. Just the way I liked them.

"How was work?" I asked, opening the cupboard to get a glass. I wanted milk with my cookies. A lot of people weren't aware that cow milk was often the cause of acne. I knew it was mine, so I had my dad buy almond milk for me all the time now.

She gave me a smile. "Same old, same old. Did you clean your room?"

I rolled my eyes. I could show up with Khaleesi's three dragons in her kitchen and I bet the first thing she'd ask me was, Did you clean your room?