Loveless Ages

Chapter Two

We leave the carnival a couple of hours later and go to a restaurant to get something to eat. After that, we drive over to a nearby art exhibit. It is filled with modern paintings as well as remakes of historical ones. There are both simple and complex paintings as well as sculptures. Each one has a different type of cultural significance. We all part ways as we look at particular paintings in the gallery that interest us. I stop at one with red and orange paint on the canvas. It is abstract art and it conveys hostility and rage, at least to me. It is called Burning Heart. I tilt my head to the side while examining the painting. Schlutonia would never put such things on display. They don’t like things that inspire extreme emotion or negative emotion. They don’t like things that make your mind wander to places they don’t want it to. They don’t want you to have your own thoughts. A young man comes up next to me and looks at the painting as well.

 “This painting is the story of my life,” he says softly. His voice is so soft that I don’t know if the comment was directed at me or if he was just speaking to himself.

 “Yeah, I think it’s the story of mine too,” I respond anyway. He smiles.

 “I refuse to believe that,” the young man says. I look at him. He wears glasses and has longish blonde hair. He is fairly attractive.

 “You refuse to believe what?” I ask him.

 “That someone as beautiful as you knows what a Burning Heart is,” he says. I feel myself blush.

 “Well what exactly does a Burning Heart mean to you?” I ask him.

 “It means that you have your heart broken in a way that is rage inspiring,” he tells me.

 “Well I think I know what that is, but maybe not exactly,” I say. He smiles at me.

 “You honestly are more striking than every painting in this museum that I have seen so far,” he says. I giggle a little bit and shake my head.

 “You’re too much,” I tell him.

 “You are a work of art all on your own,” the guy says, “I’m Wren by the way.”

 “My name is Malinda,” I tell him.

 “A pretty name for a pretty girl,” Wren responds. No one has ever spoken to me this way.

 “Thank you,” I say with a shy smile.

 “Is it possible that I could see you again?” Wren asks me. I press my lips together and shake my head.

 “I’m sorry…” I say to him apologetically. He laughs and shakes his head.

 “Don’t apologize,” he tells me, “I didn’t expect you to say yes but you can’t blame a guy for trying.” With that, Wren walks away. I will never forget the first guy that told me I was pretty. Wren. A classy name for a classy guy.

             We are back at Saige’s house by five o’clock in the evening. Josh and I sit on the couch watching television. The selections are a lot different here than the ones in Schlutonia in the obvious ways. At around eight o’clock, Xander comes downstairs and is headed towards the door.

 “One second,” I say to Josh. I walk over to the front door and slip right in front of it before Xander can escape. He looks annoyed.

 “What Malinda?” Xander asks. “Can I help you?”

 “Where are you going?” I ask.

 “Out,” he tells me.

 “Out where?”