I look up at him and he nods, clearly pleased. I pull myself up from the bench and give my mother a kiss on the top of her head.
I can feel her happi ness.
“I’ve got to call someone,” I say and speed off up the stairs.
Allison is standing at the top, and her expression tells me she was listening this whole time.
“Elvis,” she says with confusion and excitement, “she’s bringing you back.”
“Slow down, Alli,” I warn, rushing past her. Allison will read a lot into this—she is all about the mystery of love.
As I approach my room, I hear my phone ringing. Lunging for it, I look down at the screen and my heart skips a beat … Scarlette!
She’s callin g me!
I clear my th roat.
“Hello?” I say, trying to stay cool. A quiet, slightly nervous voice resp onds.
“Hi, E lvis.”
My heart picks up its pace, and I can already feel a smile forming on my lips.
“Hi, Scarlette, I’m glad you called. I was just thinking of you.”
I picture her blushing, and my heart melts when she giggles in r eply.
“Paige and I are going painting today, and … ” she seems to stumble over her words. “And well, I was wondering if maybe you would like to come with us. You can bring a friend if you like.”
It’s like she read my mind. I want to scream YES! but contain myself. I don’t even care where she’s asking me to go, I just want to be with her. Painting? I think about that for a second. I can barely draw a stick man.
“I would love to go painting, Scarlette. Sounds like fun. I’ll bring a friend with me,” I tell her.
“We can meet you at Raw Canvas in Yaletown in an hour,” she says.
“Great! See you soon, bye.”
“See you, Elvis. Bye.”
I end the call and make my next call out.
“Hello?” Liam ans wers.
“Liam, get ready. You have thirty minutes,” I say.
“Where are we g oing?”
“To p aint!”
“Paint? Paint what, El?” Liam asks sarcastic ally.
“Just be ready in thirty, Li.” I hang up before he has the chance to say another word.
I pick up the pace, taking a quick shower and grabbing the first dark items of clothing I can find in my closet, thinking this could be messy. Within minutes I’m sitting in Snow White, reversing out of the ga rage.
The drive to Liam takes no time at all, and he’s already walking out his front doors when I pull up. Knowing Liam, he must be anxious to find out what I’m u p to.
“Wow, El, twenty -s ix minutes. What the heck is up with you?”
Liam asks as he opens the car door.
“We’re going to paint,” I re peat.
He shakes his head in confu sion.
“Paint?” He raises an eye brow.
“That’s right Liam, paint! Not sure what or how to, but it’s what Scarlette wants to do,” I explain, saving the best bit until last.
“She’s bringing her friend Paige with her.”
Liam’s head jerks towards me and he g rins.
“Paige? Her cute, redhead friend?” he asks, still wearing the same grin.
“That’s the one.”
“Then I’m in! Let’s go colour,” he says eag erly.
“Paint, Liam, paint!” I shout, and we chuckle as I turn onto the road to Yale town.
We arrive at Raw Canvas on Hamilton Street and immediately spot Scarlette and Paige inside. They’re standing beside four blank canvases on stands, ready to be painted. A tray sits between each one with all sorts of paint to dip into, and a row of paint brushes in different sizes. I look at all the colours displayed and feel like I’ve just entered a rai nbow.
My eyes finally meet Scarlette’s. She’s dressed in a pair of black jeans and a yellow shirt. Paige approaches us, her curly red hair pinned back, and she greets Liam with a happy smile that says she’s thrilled it was him I brought along with me. Liam seems in awe himself. But my eyes remain on the cute little brunette. Scarlette’s brown hair is tied back into a ponytail that brings out all of her features. She seems relaxed and more herself, holding a paintbrush in her hand with a mischievous smile on her perfect little face. I can’t help but notice how small she is next to the huge ca nvas.
“Don’t panic,” she says. “I will help you paint.” She greets me with a sweet giggle, falling right into my arms.
I get a whiff of her passionfruit scent and have to focus on holding myself together. She wraps her arms around me without hesitation. This is yet another one of those unknown feelings she brings out in me. I instinctively wrap my much bigger arms around her and pull her even closer into my c hest.
Liam and Paige have walked off to their easels and already started to play with the colours, chuckling away, so Scarlette and I go into our own world of colours. I stand in front of the white board, not quite knowing what to do. Scarlette’s giggles distract me from my confusion. She dips a paintbrush in green paint, places the brush in my fingers, and holds my hand, guiding my motion with hers.
“We can start you off with a tree,” she says, looking right into my eyes.
There goes my heart like it does every time I’m in her presence.
I start to laugh a little, enjoying this moment with her. I wrap my other arm around her, pulling her closer to me. Our bodies are glued together as I watch her direct my hand on the ca nvas.
“I like you drawing with me,” I whisper into her ear.
I can see the pink blush on her cheek as she sm iles.
“I do have to get back to my canvas at some point, Elvis,” she reminds me joki ngly.
“Do you have to return to your canvas right now?” I ask with a grin in my v oice.
She nods, and I feel her body shift away from mine. Scarlette takes a seat on the stool next to me and stares at her canvas thoughtfully for a moment before painting. She’s careful with each brush, lining them up according to how she wants to put them to use. I cannot stop staring at Scarlette once she starts to paint. Her gracefulness is beaut iful.
I put my paintbrush down on the tray and take a step to the side.
I want to stand directly behind her, my eyes following every stroke she makes, locked on her every move. Her canvas begins to turn into a picture, as every colour she uses is drawn into life.
It’s incredible. Scarlette is focused and seems so alive while she paints. I place both my hands softly on her shoulders with a comforting touch. She tilts her head to the side to relieve tension in her neck when my eyes suddenly notice a mark on the back of her left ear. She moves her head a little more and her ponytail covers it back up. I blink my eyes, attempting to look more closely, but I don’t want to distract her from painting.
What could that sca r be?
I’d almost forgotten that Liam and Paige are both here, next to us, and I look over at them. Paige hasn’t created a specific picture, instead colourful circles, shapes, and lines fill her canvas. I watch Liam take a paintbrush from the tray in between him and Paige, dip it in paint, and brush it down her forearm, drawing a straight line. She continues with her work, but a smile plays on her lips, and she glances towards him. I’m glad Liam is having his own fun. I notice his canvas is still half blank with only a few circles and squares of colour. I give my own canvas a quick look and shake my head side to side, chuckling quietly under my br eath.