This Crazy Thing Called Love

10: Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2AM?

10: Nothing Good Ever Happens After 2AM? 

 

"I hate them."

I stared at Nolan with my mouth hung wide open. "What do you mean you hate my sketches? We worked on one them together!" I nearly cried out.

It was Sunday afternoon and we were standing in the middle of the alleyway where we were suppose to work on the mural for Lorenzo. I was hoping that Nolan and I would be able to make a decision about which sketches we would use for the mural-- either the sketch both of us worked on together in the cafe or the sketches we did separately once we parted ways. I was actually hoping Nolan would like some of the drawings I did since i believed they were good representation of what Toronto was all about but he rejected them all, including the one we we worked on together.

"Don't take it offensively," Nolan said. "I just--"

"I stayed up until midnight working on these!" I argued, closing my large sketchbook and tucking it under my arm. "What don't you like about them?"

Nolan sighed as he ran his hand through his long hair. "They're all... complex--"

"They're not complex!"

"To spray-paint, yes, they are," Nolan said, taking out his own sketchbook and showing me his own sketches. They were all bright and colourful, and i immediately started wondering how we would be able to make a decision between all our works. I also started to question the length of time we would have to get this mural finished.

Nolan probably read my mind again because he closed his sketchbook and said, "All of these drawings would make great paintings, they really would. But not with spray-paint. We only have a few weeks to do this mural and the more details there are on the sketch we choose to work with, the longer it'll take for us to get this damn thing down. We need a simple picture. A picture that can say a lot with out it being all over the place, you know what I mean?"

I nodded. "So what are you thinking then?" I asked, disappointed that he didn't like any of my sketches.

There was a pause before Nolan randomly asked, "Have you ever been on the Toronto Islands ferry?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I get sea sick easily."

Nolan gave me a crooked smile as he patted my head. "Well, I hope you get over that because you and I, well, we're going on the Toronto Ferry tonight. I'll pick you up eleven," he said, walking around me.

"Wait!" I cried out, spinning around. "Where are you going? I came all the way over here so we could work on the mural and you're just going to leave? Don't we have, like, a deadline to work by? And you don't even know where i live!"

Nolan stopped walking and looked over his shoulder. "One day won't kill us--"

"Yeah, it will!"

Nolan just laughed. "I'll pick you up anyway," he said, walking away. "I have an idea that we can work with. I just wanna see if you're able to see what I see. And where do you live?"

I rolled my eyes as I told him my address. "So what am I suppose to do the whole day?" i asked.

Nolan laughed as he looked over his shoulder to flash me a wink. "It's Toronto," he told me. "There's plenty that you can do."

 He was right.

There was plenty that you could do in the city, but since I was too lazy to do anything, I simply decided to go home and probably take a nap. On my drive back home, I couldn't help but think back to that night when Nolan and I were forced to play Seven Minutes In Heaven and how he had wanted to kiss me. I didn't know why the thought came to mind so abruptly but it just did. I remembered the claustrophobic feeling, the tightness in my throat as Nolan walked closer to me, and his low voice as he asked if he could kiss me. The memory was still so vivid in my mind and I couldn't shake off that certain feeling of your stomach doing flips. When Nolan's stormy eyes came to mind, I didn't realize I was already at home and that my palms were already sweaty from gripping the steering wheel too tightly.