Read The Earth Painter Online

Authors: Melissa Turner Lee

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Young Adult

The Earth Painter (2 page)

BOOK: The Earth Painter
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“Oh dear, oh dear.
This will not do.” Ms. Jones’s buggy eyes glared at me. “I’ll
come
pair with you.”

Ok, it was bad enough being the new kid, but I was not about to be paired with the teacher. “What about him?” I pointed to the boy still seated on the stage. His eyes grew, until they were the size of saucers.

“Who?”

“The boy sitting right here!”
I was practically standing over him, pointing down at him.

Ms. Jones looked confused as she followed my gesture. Suddenly she jumped back. “Oh! How long have you been sitting there? I…I didn’t see you.”

The boy smiled, revealing perfectly placed dimples on each cheek. “Me?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice you there.” Ms. Jones seemed confused and out of breath. “What’s your name?”

“Theo,” he answered, still smiling as he stood.

“Well go stand with...with…” She pointed at me and snapped.

“Holly,” I reminded her.

“Yes, go stand with Holly.” She turned her attention back to the class. “Now, what I want you to do
is
face each other. One of you will move your arms, head, and etcetera but do not leave your spot. The other person will mirror the movement.”

Theo grinned down at me, his brows furrowed over his gray-blue eyes as if he were trying to figure something out.

“Begin!” Ms. Jones announced.

“You go first,” I whispered.

Theo put his hand up, and I copied his movement. I couldn’t help noticing how he scrutinized my face. “What’s with the staring? You never saw freckles before?”

“I have. That’s not it. I’m trying to figure out why you noticed me. People never notice me.” He looked around and then leaned in to whisper, “You are human…right?”

“Change!”
Ms. Jones called.

My mouth fell opened. Was he nuts?  How was I supposed to answer a question like that?

Balling my hands into fists on my
hips, I said, “What’s the matter with you?”

When he put his hands on his hips, I realized he was still doing the mirroring exercise.

Ms. Jones suddenly yelled and clapped. “I love this. Love it! Everybody look at Holly and her partner. They aren’t just moving
,
they are conveying emotion with it. Brilliant!”

I went back to doing normal movements. And Theo continued to stare at me. “You look so familiar. I heard you say you just moved here, but did you move back? I mean did you live here before…a long time ago maybe?”

“No.” I half smiled and then bit my lip. He was exceptionally good looking. I’d been too irritated to notice at first, but the more I looked at him the warmer my cheeks got. The way he stared at me didn’t help either. It was intense and inquisitive, and he was too close. We weren’t touchy-feely at my house, so this invasion into my personal space was especially uncomfortable.

“So you’ve never been here before?” His gray-blue eyes studied me even more.

“Well…um…I’ve been to Chesnee before—to visit my grandmother before she died. Maybe you saw me around town then.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s not it. I’ve seen you up close, like this. I remember your eyes. They’re the color of the sea—just inside a coral reef, and your freckles are like the stones of a volcanic island scattered along the sand. Your hair is like the sun setting over the water, shooting out orange rays in all directions.” He stared into my eyes even deeper. “You’re very pretty.”

The impact of his words slammed into me. I’d braced myself for an insult. That’s what I was used to. This was either the way he came on to girls for a hook-up, or more likely, some mean joke to get a good laugh going with the other kids. I knew those kinds of tricks. Those were the kinds of things the kids I used to hang with did all the time. In the end, they did them to me too when I no longer belonged in their circle. My hands trembled, and my lips drew up to hold in the anger, but I refused to cry in front of him. I wanted to call him on his prank. I knew better than to think it was a real compliment, but I couldn’t think of anything
clever
to say.

The tears were coming despite my efforts. “Forget this!” I shouted as I ran off the stage. I could feel everyone staring as I grabbed my backpack and made for the door. My head throbbed from ear to ear. I was dropping the class, and that was final.

 

Chapter 2

“Mom, you’ve got to call the school and fix this,” I wet a washcloth in the bathroom sink for my head. “I cannot be in Drama Club. You know how I stress out when I have to talk to people.” I stepped out of the bathroom and saw Mom on a stepladder hanging curtains. I
then  noticed
the living room was no longer the same out of date color that it had been that morning.

“Drama isn’t so bad. You might like being on stage, having every eye on you—being absolutely adored.” For a second, she stopped, stood still and let out a sigh. “If they’d offered it back in my day, I’m sure I would have loved it.”

Of course, she would.

“Mom, you know I hate crowds and get tongue-tied. I never know what to say to people.”

“True,” She answered flatly, as she stepped down obviously trying to get a better look at the curtains and the wall. “Lovely.” The pride in her voice oozed like melted butter as she examined her beautiful workmanship. Everything associated with her had to be beautiful. She turned to look at me. The satisfaction faded from her face, and her shoulders sagged a little—but not too much. She was far too conscientious of her posture for that.

Her face twisted as she seemed to notice me holding the cloth to my forehead.
“Another headache?”

I nodded and sat on the loveseat.

“Sweetie, did you ask if they had anything else?” She sounded a little more sympathetic than before.

“Yes, but the only other class with an opening was home arts.” I wouldn’t mind taking it, but I knew how she felt about it.

“No, that’s not the kind of class that looks good on a college resume.”

The sympathy had passed.

“Drama sounds better, even if all you ever do is work as a stagehand, which I’m guessing, is what you’ll end up doing.” She pushed the couch back against the wall. “I mean you’re no star.
Best to realize that early.
Work with what you’ve got and make the best of it.”

Appearance trumped quality of life once again. “I’m going to lie down.” I trudged off to my room closing the door slowly and quietly so it wouldn’t resonate in my already throbbing head. I climbed into my bed. Mom had obviously remade it. She had flipped my comforter while I was at school. It was pink floral on one side and tan on the other. I didn’t really care for pink, but my mom did, and that’s all that mattered in our house.

We played this constant game of flipping it to the side each of us preferred. I call it a game, but neither of us got any pleasure out of it. We never said anything about it either. At that moment, my head hurt too much to care what color my bed was.

“Mom: 1, Holly: 0.” I pulled the covers over my head to hide my sensitive eyes from the light and drifted off to sleep.

***

I spent the next school day with my nose in a book again, making a point not to look at anyone or give anyone any idea that I might want to talk to them.
Being invisible meant safety for me.

During third-period, my pen busted while taking notes, so on the way to the auditorium I made a detour to the lady’s room to wash my hands. I turned on the faucet, but jerked my hands back when the water started. It was orangey-red—kind of a rusty color.

“Gross!”

I pulled out my hand sanitizer and did the best I could to get the ink off with it and a paper towel. I exited the restroom across the hall from the auditorium and headed for the double doors just as Anthony came up the stairs.

“You’re back. I thought you didn’t want to be in drama.” He opened the door for me.

“I didn’t, but the only other class available was home arts, so I guess I’m stuck.”


Home arts is
a good class.
Took it last year for the food.
Mrs. Powell can cook and now not only can I make
a mean
lasagna, I can sew my own curtains too.”

I had to laugh and shake my head as I followed him down the aisle.
Anthony  seemed
to be the kind who didn’t pretend to be more than he was. I liked him already. He sat with the jocks again while I sat alone and pulled out my e-book to read. I didn’t bother to look when I felt someone sit in the seat beside me.

“What you reading?”

I recognized the voice from the day before. When I glanced up, I saw Theo grinning at me, again with that scrutinizing stare. I didn’t want to encourage whatever game he was playing with me
.“A book.”

“But what’s it about?”

“A girl and her brothers and sister abandoned by their mom.”

Theo’s nose scrunched.
“Sounds sad.
Why would you want to read something like that?”

I shrugged and turned my attention back to my book. “That’s life. Not everyone gets a nurturing mother.”

“They should.”

I shrugged again and tried to read, but he was still there and still too close.

“Why are you talking to me?”

“I wanted to thank you.”

I put my Kindle down and looked at him. “Thank me?
For what?”

“For noticing me.”

I looked at Theo trying to figure out his angle when Ms. Jones came in.

“Sorry I’m late everyone. I had to go make sure the office knew the water was dirty again. They’re pulling out the water coolers and pushing them out by the fountains. They swear it’s safe to drink after the water clears, but I don’t like it. If any of you feel the need to tell your parents and they feel the need to contact the school board, don’t tell them I said to do it. It’s time to take the school off that old well and switch to public water. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

I sat up and placed my book under my seat, still ignoring Theo. Ms. Jones called out name after name. Everyone answered except Theo. She never called his name. He might be annoying as all get out but, at the moment, I felt sorry for him being ignored again.
Even if he was a pain in the butt.

“Ms. Jones,” I raised my hand and spoke just above a whisper. “You missed Theo again.”

“Who?”
She looked at me, her head tilted to the side.

“Theo,” I pointed to the boy sitting right beside me.

Ms. Jones shook her head and jumped back. “I’m sorry young man. I…I didn’t see you there. What did you say your name was?” She thumbed through the roster.

He smiled wide, “Theo.”

“Are you new? You’re not on my roll, and you weren’t here yesterday,” Ms. Jones asked, becoming flustered as she turned the pages over and over again.

Was she on something? I felt my forehead wrinkle as my eyes went buggy.

“He was here yesterday. You put us together for the mirroring exercise.”

“I did?”

I nodded up and down very slowly. Mom had known Ms. Jones back in high school. According to Mom, she’d gone off to New York after graduating with dreams of being on Broadway, but she never got beyond understudy and chorus. She came back to teach drama instead. Maybe she’d brought back some sort of substance abuse problem.

“Hmm, you’d think I’d remember that. Well the mind’s the first thing to go,” she shook her head. Ms. Jones pulled a stack of papers from her teacher’s bag and began handing them out. “As many of you know, we always put on a production right before Christmas break. This year, instead of a play we will be doing a Renaissance festival, complete with dinner, swordplay, and entertainment. The whole town will be here, including the mayor.”

She handed me a small stack of papers stapled in the corner. I flipped it open to see examples of costumes, information on food, dance, language and customs. “O…M…G,” I said as I flipped the pages.

“What is it?” Theo leaned in close gazing at the papers.

I looked over at him. “Where’s your copy?”

“She skipped me,” he shook his head and smiled, unearthing his dimples.

Yep—on drugs.
“I’ll go get you one.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. She’ll forget to give me a part anyway.” He looked over my shoulder at the pages. “The clothes really didn’t look like that back then. Not for most people anyway.”

I glanced over at him, and caught him staring at me. “What?”

“Still trying to figure out where I’ve seen you before.”

I went back to looking at the handouts.

“So why the OMG?”

“A giant production the whole town will come out to see.” My stomach churned just thinking about it.

“And?”

“I’m not good with crowds or talking to people. I get nervous.”

Theo looked at me with soft, caring eyes. “You’re doing fine talking to me right now.”

BOOK: The Earth Painter
5.18Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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