Текст книги "Perfectly Hopeless"

Автор книги: Holly Hood

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Текущая страница: 3 (всего у книги 11 страниц)

ART

HE WAS SITTING at the yogurt hut. Not working, just eating.  Replaying the words of Dr. Wilder in his head—that things hadn’t changed. Nothing ever changed for him. But today he was saddened by this, more than usual. Today it didn’t matter how blue the sky above him was. He was miserable.

Maven watched him from afar. Standing with her father as he shipped some packages at the post office, she held one hand against the counter, the other twirling a strand of blonde hair. She only wanted him to notice her. But he was concentrating on his yogurt and nothing else.

Dad thanked the post office attendant, tucking his receipt in the front pocket of his shirt.

“Did you want to head home for lunch or do you have other plans?”

She broke her stare long enough to give her dad an answer. “I think I’m going to talk to Henri.” Her dad turned quickly, he was eager to lay eyes on Henri. He looked harmless enough.

“Alright, I will see you later. Call if you’re going to be late.” She kissed his cheek, watching him head back in the opposite direction. Maven gave herself a quick glance in the window. She ran her fingers through her long hair. Securing the small flower that was holding the side of her hair in place. She smoothed her light pink camisole and even straightened her jean shorts before taking a step in Henri’s direction.

“Hey,” she said quickly, her shadow looming over the table where he sat. Henri lifted his head.  He gave her a smile and offered her a seat.

“What’s up, Maven?”

Maven leaned forward, eager to talk with him again. She had looked forward to it. “Nothing much. I’m glad I ran into you again.”

Henri raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah?”

Maven looked around, hoping Jake and Tatiana wouldn’t show up like the last time she was at the yogurt hut. “Yeah, I had a nice time swimming with you.”

Henri swallowed, looking away from the table.

Maven studied his suddenly cold demeanor. “Is everything alright, Henri?”

Henri’s eyes met hers. “What if I said things weren’t alright?”

Maven’s eyes grew large. “What do you mean?”

Henri thought about confessing his secret.

Today wasn’t the day.

“I don’t mean anything. Sometimes my mind gets the best of me.” He crumpled his napkin, tossing it into his barely eaten yogurt.  “Are you up for the art museum?”

Maven nodded. “For sure.”

***

The art museum of Portwood was within walking distance of just about everything. Maven loved the old fashioned cobblestone roads and the old style street lights.

They hurried up the massive set of museum stairs, pushed past the revolving doors, and were whisked away into displays of chic artwork. The summer heat a thing of the past as the air conditioning pumped plenty of cool air through the small museum.

Maven kept her arms crossed as they walked into the first room. It was a little cold. Henri’s hands were tucked into his pants pockets. There were only a couple people nearby. The museum wasn’t the preferred spot during the summer. Most people were busy swimming or doing something outdoors.

Maven stopped in front of an old oil painting, a scenic one, lush green grass, weeping willows and a young woman running across the painting, only she looked as if she was placed there later, she was so contemporary compared to the vintage feel of the backdrop, long flowing hair, porcelain skin. It was a stunning piece of art.

“This is kind of nice.” Henri stepped a little closer, his hands still caged in his jeans.

“It’s beautiful,” Maven confessed, she stepped closer, “My mind takes off when I look at artwork. I always want to know the reason behind all of it.”

“He probably loved her.” Henri turned his head. “Why else would someone paint such a picture?”

Maven searched the tag for a name. “How do you know it was a man?”

“Just a guess.”

Maven squinted at the blob like signature and gasped. “That’s Sandra’s last name.”

Henri nodded. “Yeah it is. Her grandfather painted many of the paintings in this exhibit.”

Maven was impressed. “Wow, Henri.”

“Artistic talent runs in the family. I don’t mean to boast, but I’m a great painter myself.” He smiled, moving on to the next painting.

“Do you have any in here?” Maven couldn’t believe how interesting Henri became the more she got to know him.

“Nope. But I have a closet full of old stuff I did a long time ago.” He studied an abstract piece growing quiet.

“Why don’t you paint anymore?”

“Have to have a reason to paint. I really don’t have one anymore.”

“I can draw a little. We should get together sometime and you can paint something.” She smiled at her idea.

“You.” Henri made a picture frame with his fingers, framing her smiling face with them. “I could paint you.”

“Okay, you can paint me. And I’ll even bring one of my own sketch books and draw you.”

Henri agreed. “Only if you promise you’ll keep it forever.”

Maven pushed into his arm. “Don’t be silly.”

“What should I be then?” His eyes held a certain intensity that made her heart skip a beat. She timidly pushed her hair from her eyes.

“Nothing, I wouldn’t want you to be anything but you.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. Henri turned away, paying more attention to the next picture to lighten the mood. He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.

At the end of the exhibit she couldn’t help but want it to go on forever.

She sat down on the bench outside of the museum. Henri leaned against the old pillar.  Maven studied the cracked paint trying to come up with something to say.

“How come you didn’t go to the same school as Sandra?” He wasn’t more than a year older than her. If they were related it only made sense.

“I lived in Tennessee with my parents.” Henri pushed off the pillar, taking a seat next to her. “I’ve only been here a couple years.”

Maven did the math in her head. Henri knew what was coming next. “Then where did you go to school?”

“Home schooled senior year.” He scratched at his forearm. “I finished halfway through my senior year.”

Maven nodded impressed. “What was the reason you chose homeschooling?”

Henri could feel his heart beating out of his chest. There was no getting out of this one. He started to panic. He had to do something fast. He leaned in, gently kissing her on the cheek.

When he pulled away he was surprised to see the huge smile pinned to her face. Maven’s eyes softened, she touched his face in response, her fingers playing with his hair. Henri closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her hands against his skin. His heartbeat slowed down and returned to a regular speed.

He touched her hair, pushing it behind her ear like she did when she was nervous. He warily touched her lips enjoying the feel of them against his fingertips. The corners of her mouth igniting in a smile.

He loved how blue her eyes were. And the way all her emotions exuded from them all the time. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“You do?”

Henri nodded, giving her a smile.

The door to the museum opened, thudding against the bench. Henri pulled away, ending the moment. The older woman gave them both a nod as she hurried down the museum steps.

 

MYSTERIOUS

HENRI LAUNCHED A ROCK across the water of the creek near his aunt and uncle’s home. He watched the stone skip three times before it disappeared. Tiny ripples ringing outward, a few lazy dragonflies skidding to the surface and then away.

“Nice one,” Flynn, his older cousin said, chucking a rock of his own at the water.

“Yeah some things never change,” Henri said with a shrug. He took a seat in the grass drawing his knees up and resting his arms. He gazed at the water.

Flynn sat down. “Dinner soon.” He made a point to keep Henri in the moment when he seemed to be drifting off.  When Henri forgot about eating he was always there to point him to the nearest kitchen, Flynn was just three years older than he was, but he made it a point to hound him.

“Yeah yeah I hear you. The last appointment I had she said I was keeping up.” He lied. It was the appointment before that she had told him he gained five pounds.

Flynn ignored his tone, choosing to change the subject rather than get into another argument. He knew it would just end with him angry and Henri finding another reason to stay far away from home.

“Ma says you’ve been hanging around some girl with blonde hair. One of them Wilder girls, she said.” Flynn looked over at Henri. “Does she know about you?”

Henri plucked a large strand of grass from the ground. He twisted it between his fingers.

“Does she know what? There are so many things to tell.” He smirked. “My mother always said I was an extraordinary boy.”

Flynn shook his head at Henri’s goofy approach. He was the only person he knew that could make light of such a situation as his. “You know what I mean. Does she know that you’re not well?”

“I figure she suspects it. Or maybe she doesn’t and that’s why she’s still hanging around.” Henri broke the blade of grass, letting the two pieces sail to the ground.

“She could be hanging around because she likes you. And if that’s the case you need to let her in on your little secret.” Flynn sighed.

“What do I say?”

“I don’t know the answer to that. Whatever you want to say. We all promised to keep our lips zipped, so that’s all on you.” Flynn stood, dusting off the back of his jeans. He offered Henri a hand, but like usual he waved him away, choosing to help himself.

Henri followed him back up to the old house

“Good to see you at dinner, Henri.” Henri’s uncle said around a mouthful of mashed potatoes and gravy. Henri nodded, shoveling his own into his mouth, the smell of the food made him even queasier. He hung his head, doing his best to clean his plate so he could take off to his room or someplace in town.

“So Henri, how are things going with Maven Wilder?” His aunt asked. She spooned another helping of carrots on his plate.

“She wants to hang out again.” He poked at the steamed carrots.

“That’s nice. She is a very nice girl.”

Sandra and April both agreed. Henri knew that would be the case for April until she was dumped by her brother. And Sandra was only being polite around her parents. He had heard the things she said about Maven with her friends.

“I think I am going to paint her.” Everyone’s eyes filled with delight at the mention of painting.

“Oh that’s wonderful, Henri. You were always so good at painting.” His aunt smiled, she hurried to fill his glass with another round of iced tea. He shooed her away.

“You’re going to make me sick.” They all laughed and the doorbell rang. His uncle went to the door, his heavy boots thumping across the wood.

Everyone listened. “Well hello there.” Henri shot his aunt a confused look. She was in view of the hallway. The smile on her face told him it was for him. He dropped his fork to his plate twisting around in his seat.

There she stood with a big smile on her face, a bundle of pencils in her hand, and a sketchpad.

“Hey there, Maven.” His aunt stood up. “Are you hungry?”

Maven shook her head. “No ma’am, I just ate dinner. Henri promised me an art session. I came to take him up on that offer.”

Everyone smiled at Henri and the girl willing to take what she wanted. Henri rose from the table with his plate. He took it into the kitchen gesturing for Maven to join him.

“Hi.” She whispered, looking at his family all around the dining room table. Henri quickly scraped his food into the trash and placed his dish in the dishwater.

“Hi.” He whispered back, amused she was being so cautious, as if she snuck in. He leaned in, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Her hair grazing his nose, she smelled of lilac shampoo.

“Where do you want to do this?”

“Wow, how forward of you.” They both laughed. “I prefer the bedroom, but wherever you like.”

Maven’s cheeks were hot from his flirty intimation. She followed Henri up the old staircase, looking at all the family photos that lined the green wallpaper, the floor beneath them beautiful wood. He opened the first door on the left, switching on a light.

Maven looked around at the average sized bedroom. A bed in one corner with tousled sheets, the comforter practically on the floor, hanging on for dear life, in another corner sat a wooden writing table with a pile of books on top of it. On the other side of the room was a big window with a window seat, and an assortment of pillows situated on top of the bench. She stared at the walls, a number of posters showcased Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, and The Doors.

Henri opened the closet next to his desk. He pulled out a suitcase. Inside were a few blank canvases. He took one out as well as some black paint and a paintbrush.

“Sit over there.” He told her, pointing to the window seat. She did as he asked. Watching him gather his supplies and sit down across from her at the opposite end. He drew up one knee, resting his back against the pillows. And quickly he went to work.

“Should I pose?”

Henri shook his head. “Do whatever you want.”

She stayed still, only moving her eyes to get a better look at Henri’s bedroom. His personal space, the place he probably stored all his memories in. “What’s that on your dresser?”

Henri stopped what he was doing. He handed over the paintbrush and retrieved the large leather bound book. It was by far bigger than any book she had ever seen.

“Those are all my paintings.” He took the paintbrush back handing over the book.

“Wow, Henri.”

“Everything I’ve ever drawn is in that book,” Henri explained. He started back on his latest work of art while Maven looked at his old work.

Maven now understood his technique. Everything he painted was in black. But his work didn’t need color. It spoke volumes, devoid of fancy blues or reds or any shade in between. It was beyond her wildest imagination. Henri painted a world of optimism where maybe someone else saw none.

A distorted setting of old buildings with a gorgeous young woman in the center of all the disarray, but even amidst all that was tragic, her face held a loveliness that made you overlook the pain all around her.

Maven looked up from the picture. “Why?” She turned the painting toward Henri. He barely looked at it, busily working on the portrait of Maven.

“I was young. That’s the way I saw life back then.”

“But I don’t get it. Explain this to me. To me it’s beautiful.”

Henri nodded. “It is. Life is dreadful, but that doesn’t take away from what we all are. I guess that’s what I was trying to capture.”

She closed the book. “Well, I think you captured it.”

Henri looked at her puzzled. “You don’t want to look at any more?”

“I do. But I want to be the very best subject matter.” She leaned against the pillows, adjusting her hair so it fell perfectly against her exposed shoulders. Henri smiled behind the canvas. More than anything he just loved looking at her. He could paint her without her being in the same room. He remembered every inch of her.

“It will be the best.” He squeezed out some more paint on the scrap of paper he was using.

Twenty minutes later Henri’s painting was nearing completion. Maven was stiff and growing restless, but she knew whatever Henri was doing behind the canvas was worth the wait. She looked out the window at a roving dog by the pond. The flurry of birds as they headed for the trees, as well as the orange sun setting off in the distance, was beautiful.

She imagined Henri probably sat in the window a lot. If she were him she would. Being around Henri was peaceful. It was easy and uncomplicated. She looked at Henri, his head bowed, the soft swipes on the canvas singing a tune. His eyebrows furrowed together. He was serious when he painted.

“Tell me about your life in Tennessee.” She blurted. She sat up a little, crossing her legs Indian style and folding her hands in her lap.

Henri peered over the canvas, his brown eyes connecting with hers. “What do you want to know?”

“What kind of boy were you in high school?” She was trying to imagine Henri surrounded by a crowd of students, him being one of them. It was hard to know who he fit in with. What drove him, even what kind of grades he got. Did he have a girlfriend back at home? Or was he the sort to secretly admire you from afar? She wanted to know everything.

“I played baseball.”

“What position?”

“Shortstop.”

“What else?”

Henri scratched his nose, smearing paint on himself, but he was none the wiser. Maven cracked an amused grin.

“What’s so funny? You don’t like shortstops?”

“No. It’s your face.” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands, but that wasn’t enough to contain the sudden fit of laughter. Henri rolled his eyes. He sat the canvas down and got up.

“It’s my face.” He headed to his closet, pulling open the door and looking in the mirror. “God. I thought you were calling me ugly.”

Maven stopped laughing. He seemed serious. He seemed sad even. She rose to her feet.

“No. I wasn’t saying that at all.” She wiped the paint away with her fingers, rubbing it into her shorts. “See, it’s all gone.”

Henri grabbed her hand. “We do have wash cloths. Now look at your shorts.”

Maven shook her head. “They come clean. It’s not a big deal.” She pushed her hair behind her ear nervously. Something Henri was familiar with. He could tell the minute she was judging herself, when she was feeling insecure.

He wanted to kiss her. To take her face in his hands and plant the best kiss he ever gave a girl in his life on her lips. He wasn’t sure if he had the courage or the confidence to go through with it. But he was going to try.

He moved in, his hands succeeding at finding her face. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips met hers. The sweet smell of her hair entered his nose as he grew even more certain and let the moment grow a little more in intensity.

Henri’s fingers slid past her jawbone and down her neck.

Maven took a breath, pulling away long enough to understand that what was happening was true. She met up again with Henri’s lips. They were soft and gentle with just enough power to make her head spin and her heart stir. He didn’t have to try too hard because he knew what he was doing and how to do it.

They stood in the middle of Henri’s room sharing the most amazing kiss of each of their lives.

They broke apart. Henri’s heart was pounding. His head was spinning and he could still taste her strawberry lip-gloss on his tongue. Every single part of his body was throbbing and on fire. He wanted more, but he wasn’t going to push it.

“I need to sit down.” Maven said first. She took a seat on his bed, dazed and confused. She’d never felt anything like it before. Not even when she kissed Jake. She concentrated on her knees, taking in huge breaths.

Henri sat down next to her. “Are you alright?” He had never seen a person hyperventilate after kissing him. He wondered if it was a bad sign.

“Just feeling a little dizzy.” She touched her forehead, laughing it off.

“Sometimes when I feel that way I just lay down.” He threw his hands up. “I swear I’m not trying to get you in my bed.”

Maven laughed. “I don’t think that at all.” She laid back, letting out a sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. “Much better.”

Henri took a seat at the end of the bed. “Great. I thought I failed for a second.”

Maven patted the spot next to her. “Failed?”

“I don’t know, bad reaction to a horrible kiss.” He laid down beside her, arms behind his head.

“There was nothing horrible about it.” She drew in her bottom lip, thinking about it all over again. “It was perfect.”

They fell asleep to the sound of crickets chirping below his window, until the sun was nothing but a distant memory and his room was filled with darkness, with only the moonlight shining through the window.

Maven rolled over, a bit confused, trying to make sense of where she was. It took her a couple of seconds to realize she was in Henri’s bedroom. She sat up in the dark, her eyes barely adjusting to her surroundings.

“Henri.” She whispered. She patted the bed, trying to find him in the dark. Suddenly her hand touched something damp. She pulled back startled. And then grew curious and touched it again, rubbing her fingers together to make sense of it. She felt some more until she ran into Henri’s head. She used her other hand to touch his hair, finding her way to his shoulder to shake him.

“Henri.” She called out. “Henri, I can’t find the light. I’m worried, it’s really late.”

When he didn’t answer she grew concerned. She cautiously guided herself to the end of the bed and very carefully, inch by inch, found her way to where she remembered his closet and desk were. She held onto the desk, running her hand along the wall until she bumped into the light switch, at last the room filled with light.

Maven gasped, her hand was bloody. She immediately checked the rest of her body. Her first thought was that she started her period, but that wasn’t it either. She ran to the bed, shocked to see the side of Henri’s face covered in blood as well as his pillowcase and bed sheet.

Her heart flipped and sank. And then she screamed.

“Henri!”

She jumped on the bed, shaking him forcefully until his eyes opened and he was looking at her. He touched his nose as soon as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes.

“It’s a nose bleed.” He promised. “And I’m a really heavy sleeper.”

Maven clutched her chest, happy to see him alive and moving. He pulled off his t-shirt balling it up and holding it against his face, his back to Maven.

Aunt Janet barged into the room. Her hair a mess, but she didn’t care. Her only concern was the scream she had heard coming from Henri’s bedroom.

“I’m fine. It’s a nose bleed.” Henri wrenched himself out of her reach. He wanted nothing to do with anyone.

“Just let me see.” Aunt Janet tried once more to pry Henri’s bloodied t-shirt from his face.

Maven backed away, feeling sorry for him. He looked miserable. But she didn’t know what to do. She stared down at the blood on her hands, trying to stay out of it.

Flynn knocked before coming into the room. He was carrying a wet washcloth. He pushed past his mother and without any fight got the t-shirt away from Henri. He helped him clean up his face. “Awesome. At least now you don’t look like a bludgeoned victim from one of those horror movies.” They laughed.

Aunt Janet sighed, leaving the two of them alone.

Maven couldn’t help but notice how great Flynn was with Henri. She could tell Henri and Flynn were close.

“I’ll let you get cleaned up. And I’ll take your friend downstairs for some tea.”

Maven, without any delay, followed Flynn from the bedroom. Everything had happened so quickly she barely had time to process.

Flynn led her to the kitchen. He pulled two glasses from the cabinet.

“You want to grab that pitcher of tea for me out of the refrigerator?”

Maven started moving, opening the refrigerator in a hurry to do as he asked. He was a no-bull kind of guy, she could tell.

“Thank you.” He poured two glasses and took them to the table, dragging one seat out and gesturing her to sit.

She stared at her bloody hands. “Could I wash my hands first?”

Flynn chuckled. “Of course. I wouldn’t want you wearing Henri’s blood while we share a drink.”

Flynn took a seat, watching her attentively wash away the blood. He could imagine how horrified and upset with himself Henri was. He wondered if it was better to just take her home and leave it at that. He wasn’t even sure Henri would show his face after what happened.

“Better?” Flynn asked. She nodded, taking a sip of the tea.

“Is he okay?” That’s the only thing she was thinking about. She had to know.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Flynn took a sip of his tea studying Maven closely. Blonde hair, blonder than most, he wondered if it were fake or natural. “Is that your real hair color?”

“Yes.” She touched her hair feeling insecure. Flynn was a great looking guy. And he wasn’t afraid to say what he was thinking.

“A lot of girls would kill to have hair like that. Is that why half the girls in this town talk about you so much?” He leaned back in his chair.

Maven was stunned he would be so uncouth “I doubt my hair has anything to do with it.”

“What then?” She didn’t act like the kind of girl who ran around stealing other girl’s boyfriends. He knew those types—he loved those types. And he also knew Henri would never waste his breath on those types.

Maven raised her eyebrows. “People are the way they are because of my old boyfriend and his new girlfriend.”

This made Flynn nod. “Your hotter than her is that what it is?”

Maven didn’t know how to respond to that statement. Tatiana and she were nothing alike.

“If people are talking about you it’s probably because they’re jealous of you. You’re a beautiful girl, but I’m sure you know that.” Flynn grabbed hold of his glass.

“Well, thanks, I think. But I think it’s more than envy. I think it’s because people are cruel.”

“That wasn’t a compliment it was an observation. I have a girlfriend and believe me she would cut my balls off if she heard me complimenting another girl.” Flynn smiled. “Am I freaking you out?”

Maven pushed her hair behind her ear. “A little.”

“Well, I don’t bite, only if they ask for it. So don’t freak out on me.”

Maven finally smiled.

“Do you like him?” Flynn asked. “My cousin.”

Maven nodded. “He’s great. He seems like a great person.”

“He is great. He’s amazing. He’s everything any girl could want in a guy. Shit, I’m surprised my girlfriend hasn’t dumped me yet to have a chance at Henri.” Flynn smirked.

She didn’t know what to say to that either.

“Did he tell you how amazing he was at baseball back at home? Or how many girls were chasing after him?” He took a swig of his tea. “Or about the mega bitch that dumped him?”

Maven started to feel uncomfortable. Henri’s cousin was sharing things with her that Henri never mentioned or seemed to want to bring up.

“He had a girlfriend?”

Flynn nodded. “He did everything for this girl. And she just up and deserted him.”

Maven’s heart dropped. “That’s sad.”

“It is, because Henri deserves someone who cares about him. Most girls just want to take advantage of him because he is so damn nice. He doesn’t deserve that.”

Maven nodded. “Nobody does. And I totally know the feeling.”

Henri appeared in the doorway. “Flynn, you can go now.” Flynn hopped up from the chair. He gave a wave and headed out of the room, patting Henri hard on the chest in passing.

Henri put Flynn’s half empty tea in the sink. He turned around leaned against the counter.

“I should probably walk you home.”

Maven looked at him. He had a fresh t-shirt on and a new pair of shorts. His face was a bit pale, but other than that he looked normal.

“Are you okay?”

Henri crossed his arms. “I’m fine.”

“I can walk home by myself if you’re not feeling good.”

Henri pushed off the counter. “Are you kidding me? I wouldn’t let you walk home in the dark alone.”

“I can call my dad.”

“I said I’m fine.” Henri said again. Maven left it alone.

Henri shut the front door. And they began their walk to Maven’s place. The stars sparkled in the sky. The sound of crickets and bullfrogs echoed through the trees, it was a beautiful night.

“Henri, is there anything you would like to tell me that you haven’t?”

Henri looked at Maven. “Like what?”

“Anything at all, I’m a great listener.” She smiled at him.

“I think that kiss was amazing.” He snagged her fingertips, taking hold of her hand as they walked the path to her house. She laced her fingers with his, holding on tight.

“It was the best kiss ever, hands down.” She squeezed his fingers even tighter.

It didn’t bother her that Henri wasn’t ready to share everything with her. They barely knew each other. But she couldn’t help thinking there was a lot more to him. A person with a lot going on, on the inside, like sadness and hardship, she just didn’t know why.