When You're In Love with a girl

Chapter 23, Tom's Painting

TOM'S PAINTING

So far, no one at school seems to know about what went down in the Verona garden. I have told no one, and it seems that Arya has told no one either. I try to breathe relief, but it feels like a heavy weight over my back. I have to keep going, in case someone suspects something, but I am also so helpless against what Arya may have done. Not that I think she has done anything, but I have told her my darkest secret. I try to remind myself that I can trust Arya, and she would not tell anyone, anyway.

"When will you show it to me?" asks Tom as we walk to the art room. I tell him I am almost done, that this will be the last time he needs to skip animating class to model for me.

"You're avoiding the question! If you don't show it to me, I won't model!" he threatens and stops walking. He turns around.

"I can't show it to you." I sigh. "Not until the time is right," I say more surely.

"Well, then I'll just quit..." He begins dramatically walking away.

"No, I need a model... fine. What else do you want that I can use to appease you?"

"Just a peek at the painting!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"This is ridiculous!" I exclaim. "Come on, model for me one more time. And... I guess I can show you the painting in the last few minutes of class. It should be ready then."

Tom's eyes sparkle with joy. "Yes! You gave in; I knew you wouldn't be able to resist my charms for long!"

I roll my eyes jokingly.

The time is ticking, I think to myself as I start the final painting of Tom. I need to harness all the skills I have learned from the first twenty paintings. Each painting takes the knowledge gained from the previous paintings to make the current painting the best so far.

There is going to be something special about this one. It will have the spark of life.

The clock is running down! The clock is running down! warns the little voice in my head. The art teacher says, "Five minutes left until it is time to clean up!"

Tom eyes me. "Ready?"

"No! I still need to add in your eyes." I sigh and throw my paintbrush down and give in. "Whatever. See it if you want. It looks awful."

Tom looks at me with worry. "I'm sure it's good. I don't care if it's good or not."

I show Tom the painting. "Here it is." And there it is.

The background is my initially yellow ochre tone color, with burnt umber streaks still visible over the heavily-worked over face of a Eurasian boy. He has bright pink cheeks and the yellow ochre tone color shows through his transparent skin. His brows are well defined and make him look furious and passionate yet defeated at the same time. His nose is a perfect portrait of Tom's nose, cute and rounded. His lips are just suggested, open like the boy is yelling, or maybe in surprise?

But what is missing is the eyes. The eyes! There is just an empty hole where the boy's eyes should be.

"Where are the eyes?" says Tom immediately.

"I couldn't draw them to look right, so I just gave up and thought, heh, no one will notice," I say.

Tom looks at me unsmilingly. "I like it, but how can a portrait not have eyes?"

Then I have a sudden spark. An idea. Maybe since it's a painting of Tom, he has to be the one who adds the final touch that makes it alive. Don't people always say that it's the eyes that haunt you? So it makes sense that the eyes are what makes things come to life.