Anonymous Artist (boyxboy)Short Story

Part 2

The past two weeks flew by in one big blur.  My paint brush was possessed with the power of my emotions going into this painting I was creating what seemed like just for him.  My art teacher gave me a wide berth of solitude in order to not disturb my artistic flow.

As I am approaching the final touches of this masterpiece, I find that I need to take it home in order to complete that.  There are some things I can reproduce but art in motion I believe can only be captured in the moment. 

As I stated before, Pasha lives right across the street from me and whenever he is outside, which is quite often, I am glued to my window slightly peeking through my blinds memorizing every detail.  He is heart-stirring in his magnificent perfection.  He stands at 6’3” tall and I am sure he is not done growing yet.  He is all tanned from constantly being outside and from all of his physical activities his body is pure muscled ripeness.  He has strawberry blond hair and the most intense black eyes and he is my muse.

I am his absolute opposite.  I stand at a mere 5’6”.  I think my mom may be taller than me.  I never knew my dad as he died right before I was born but she told me I was his twin.  He was just taller than me.  I have hair black as night and eyes so light in gray color that they could be mistaken for silver.  The worst is that I am pale as a ghost.  I don’t really have a reason to be out in the sun and I am not quite sure how my skin would fare if I chose to expose myself.

So I find myself trying to figure out how to get my canvas home for the weekend so I can complete it once and for all.  My art teacher comes up to me and says, “Kenzie, what’s wrong?”  “I need to get this canvas home to put the finishing touches on it and I just don’t know how I am going to accomplish that.  My mom won’t be home until later on as she has a late surgery scheduled for today.”

She looks over at me and says with a smile on her face, “Come on then.  I just finished up and will take you and this beauty to your home.  Make sure to secure it so nothing mars its surface okay!”  “Thank you so much and don’t worry about transporting it back to school come Monday as I will get my mom to help me out with that.”

With that worry out of the way, we head on out when I notice a blur of color out the corner of my eye.  Since it was so quick, I’m not even sure it actually happened so I don’t think on it any longer.  The school is just about deserted since the approach of summer weather entices even the most apathetic to come out and play.

We finally arrive at my home and get the canvas into my living room and safely perched onto my easel.  I walk my art teacher out and thank her yet again for assisting me in getting it home.  I go to close my front door when I find myself distracted by a sudden moment in the front window of Pasha’s house.  Maybe his mom was cleaning since I know he isn’t home.  His car is not parked in its usual spot.

 I go back into my house and then zone in completely on the task of finishing my painting.