I wake up to a silent house. I know I’ve slept in longer than I usually do, but I don’t really care much. Last night after everyone left, I had a few beers with Brie, Ella, and Maya. Toby left with everyone else because he had to go back to Philadelphia. Henry excused himself early saying he had to work in the morning. Truth is, I think he had too much of people for one day. He doesn’t strike me as a people person.

Either way, the four of us stayed up late and talked like old times. They kept asking me about Henry, but I just couldn’t tell them. It seems like something he probably wouldn’t want to spread around.

All in all, it was a good night. I got to spend time with three of my favorite girls all at the same time. We haven’t done that in a long time. It was worth staying up late. By the time I stumbled to bed, Henry was waking up for work. And if I remember correctly, I winked at him and he turned that cute shade of pink.

But now, quiet means no one’s here. I put on my glasses quickly and walk out to the main room to catch the kitchen clock. It’s just a little after noon. And lined up on the counter are four notes.

I start at the left:

I had a hankering for what I used to call breakfast cups. They’re just pancakes with bacon and eggs baked on top. I made enough for everyone. Help yourselves. They’re in the fridge.
See you after work.
-Henry

The note makes me smile and I walk over to find the container. It looks pretty picked over, but there are a few left. I pop them in the microwave and wait the few seconds it takes to heat them. Then as I eat, I walk back over to my counter of note. The next one if from Brie:

Blainy-
I had to leave and I didn’t want to wake you. I’ll call you later.
By the way, you should keep this <- guy. His food is as delicious as he is.
Love you – Brie.

I shake my head and move to the next:

Brie’s right. Marry him!
Went to Philly for the day, be back late tonight!!
-Ella

And the last:

I’m with stupid!
(ON BOTH ISSUES)
See you lata!
-Maya-

I can’t help but laugh at the amazing people I have in my life.

It takes me no time to eat the breakfast that was made for us.  After that, I decide to spend the rest of the day in my art studio. It’s been a while since I’ve painted anything good. It feels like the perfect day to do so.

I throw on some of my paint splattered sweat shorts and a tank top. Before I head up, I put in my contacts. It’s better not to ruin my glasses with paint.

And when I get in there, I decide it’s a throwing paint kind of day. I hang a large sheet of canvas up on the four pegs I have hammered into the wall. It takes a latter to get to the top two, but it’s worth it. When the pure white sheet is all set up, I walk to the other corner to grab a couple buckets of paint and a few big mason jars. The easiest way for me to mix paint for a large canvas is to pour each one into an extra-large mason jar, seal the jar, and then shake it.

 I mix up a couple: grey, teal, lime green, and some lavender purple. The best part of this kind of thing is that I don’t have to mix them perfectly. I just have to mix enough that I don’t have to continually go back for paint.

Once everything is properly set up, I grab the paint-splattered over-ear headphones I keep up here and plug in my iPod. After I put on my painting mix (it most consists of late 90’s/early 00’s alternative rock), the music player goes into my pocket and the headphones on my ears.

As soon as I drip my hand into the first jar, I already feel better. This is my escape. This is where I can come heave as much of my pain, fear, anxiety, irritation, and wrath at a wall in the form of color. I can take whatever I’m feeling and throw it or smear it around this huge canvas with no limitation.

It helps me forget everything. It helps me remember everything. It helps me think and shut down. I can feel and be void. This is the place that I am whatever, whoever, where ever I want to be. This place is mine and all I have to do is anything I want.

It starts getting darker outside and I have to pause to switch on the multi-directional lights. It makes sure that I don’t just have one light source and that I’m seeing the painting exactly what it is. Lighting can make a real difference in the outcome of a painting.

The music helps too. I listen to this genre because it’s soothing yet upbeat enough that it doesn’t drag. I’ve always been a big fan of it. Dad likes it too. Maybe that’s where I got it from.

In the middle of one of my favorite songs, something taps my shoulder. It scares me so bad that I grab the hand that rest there and twist the person that it belongs to around. His arm ends up behind his back and his front is pinned against the wall.

When I realize I have Henry smashed against the wall of wet paint in what appears to be his work clothes, I quickly let go and take my headphones off.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him with a chuckle. “Are you alright?”

He holds his arms a little away from his paint covered outfit and smirks, “Remind me not to sneak up on you again.”

At that, I can’t help the laughter that erupts from my body. His face is just so priceless - one side of it covered in teal and purple. There’s definitely a smile under the colors, but he has to keep one eye shut to keep the paint out.

When I regain my composure, I grab his hand and walk him over to the only desk I have in here. I keep brushes, pencils, and rags to clean up in it. Then I realize I’m holding his hand, but I don’t drop it or call attention to it. It shouldn’t matter anyway; we’re friends and sometimes people drag their friends around by their hands.

Stopping at the desk, I let go and open a draw that holds a bunch of old towels. I grab one for my hands and one for his face.

First, I hold his out and say, “Here, you can wipe it off with that.”

That’s when I notice his glasses are gone. Well, not gone, on the floor over by the painting. They must have fallen off when I swung him around. Without saying anything, I walk back over and grab them; only to walk back and hold them out for him.

“To be fair,” he drags the towel down his face with one hand. His other holds the surprisingly clean glasses away from his mess of a body, “I tried to knock on both doors before I came in.”

I towel off my hands with a smile, “Yea, sometimes I get lost in everything.”

“I see that. I also tried to call.”

“Phone’s on silent.”

“That explains it.”

That makes me chuckle again, “Did you need something?”

“Oh,” his one cheek that isn’t smeared turns pink (I’m sure if the other was visible it would have to), “I was, um, just coming up to see if you were hungry.”

Thinking about it for a second, I nod and watch him replace his glasses to his slightly streaked face, “I could go for some food.”

“Well,” he starts to wipe of his hands, “I was going to see if you wanted to go somewhere, but…” he looks around and kind of motions to his newly ruined clothes. “Maybe I’ll just order Chinese. Do you like Chinese?”

“Yea,” I tilt my head in confusion. Is he trying to ask me on a date? “Any particular reason we were going out?” I have to know.

He ducks his head a little, but I make sure to tilt mine further to keep his eye contact.

“I, um, got a promotion today,” he shrugs. His whole face then looks like it catches fire it gets so red, “I was going to take everyone out, but I saw that they aren’t going to be home.”

I don’t feel let down that he wanted everyone there. I don’t and I won’t. I can’t. This is stupid.

“I didn’t throw away the notes, did I?”

He shakes his head, trying to avoid eye contact.

“Sorry,” I apologize, more for my friends than myself.

I’m usually pretty careful about not leaving stuff around, but I was probably just caught up in the idea of painting. It’s not a big deal anyway.

“I guess,” he hands me back the towel and turns toward the door he came through, “I’ll go change and wait for the food.”

“Wait,” I stop him before he steps into El’s studio, “go through this door.” I point toward the door on my side that leads outside. “If we get paint on her floors she’ll have our asses.”

He chuckles, but nods, “Good thinking.”

“And take your shoes and socks off when you get to the apartment. Try not to drip.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just makes his way back through the studio.

“What about what I want?”

He stops at the door with his hand on the nob, “You can just text it to me.”

“Turn around,” I tell him because I hate talking to his back. When he does, I drop both towels on my desk and continue, “How about you go change into something you don’t mind getting paint on and come back. I have the number to the best Chinese place around here in my phone. And the studio still has an apartment number on it. We’ll just have them deliver it up here.”

“Are you sure?” he raises a brow.

I nod, “Yep, and then we can paint or you can go to bed or whatever.”

“I don’t have work tomorrow,” he kind of blurts it out like he can’t help it.

“Didn’t you just say you got promoted?”

“They have to set up my new office.”

“Nice.”

He chuckles and nods his head, “I’ll just go change.”

I watch him walk out and can’t help but wish that he could or would or should have feelings for me. I’ve never thought about someone as much as do him. Maybe it’s because he’s a new friend or maybe it’s because I can’t have him. But maybe, like always, Dad is right.

When he leaves, I turn back to the painting and see the print he left from his body. To be honest, I don’t hate it. I could just leave it there and work on another part. That sounds good.

~A/N~

Because three of my fans asked me to, I'm putting up two chapters today!! This is will not be a weekly thing, but I was feeling generous today.

In other news, I start college tomorrow!!! I'm so nervous! I haven't been to school in like seven years! It's making me crazy!

Also more news!! Save My Day.... the prequel to this... is in the Wattys!! Go and vote for it!