I couldn't stomach the disappointment written all over Zach's face, regardless of how hard he was trying to hide it. I wanted to say that Tyler had the worst timing but I knew I had no one to blame but myself. I found myself in such an odd situation and I never wanted to be that girl. I never wanted to make someone feel like I'm leading them on but mine and Zach's ... friendship was hard to describe and explain. Much harder when I didn't even fully understand what I wanted from him. He was kind and sweet as always. But the smile didn't reach his eyes when he said goodbye that morning. I have been unfair to him and it just kept piling up. Fuck. 

I leaned my back against the front door and ran my hand down my face, trying my best to pull myself together and make at least some sense out of my scattered thoughts. I still hadn't replied to Tyler and I wasn't sure if I would at all. It was the right thing to do, no? To clear the air? 

Dragging my feet across the hardwood floor, I plopped down on the couch and tugged my knees up to my chest. Resting my chin atop them, my green hues resting on my phone screen. My thumb hovered above the keyboard, trying to come up with a good explanation as to why I couldn't see him again without giving too much away. What was there to even give away? Zach and I had nothing between us. We were friends. Maybe we slept in the same bed last night but it didn't mean anything. Right? 

With an exaggerated sigh passing my lips, I tossed the phone aside and dug my fingers into my blonde mane. Frustration didn't even begin to cover it. 

***

With a pizza slice right in front of my mouth, I entered the classroom. The Blue Prints Gallery was a well-organized establishment it seemed and so were the people inside. Mr. McDonnell was already waiting for me by his desk and five elderly women sitting in, what I assumed, their regular spots. The man offered me a smile and I beamed back at him as I hung up my jacket and approached him. 

"Good afternoon, Via," he said in his low voice and tapped the cap of his pen against the blank canvas on top of his desk. 

"Hi," I replied, almost timidly as I looked at the ladies stopping their chatter to look at me. I waved at them with a soft smile upon my rosy brims. 

"Oh, she's cute!" one of the ladies with a lavender scarf exclaimed. "Marge, is your grandson still single? Look at her." 

The woman, whom I assumed was Marge rolled her eyes at her friend and scoffed. "He wouldn't see a good thing if it smacked him in the face. I keep telling Jason, you need to find yourself a wife. You're not gonna look like that forever. Then he says he's married to his job. His job is not going to give me no great-grandchildren."

I chuckled to myself as the group laughed and continued the chatting before I returned to Mr. McDonnell. "They're adorable." 

He snickered. "Just wait until they start complaining over their husbands. 50 years of marriage does things to you. Or so I've heard." 

Although that wasn't his goal, the thought of what it would be like finding that person you literally wanted to spend the rest of your life with. For some reason, my mind went straight to Zach. In my head, I could vividly imagine his wide, dimpled smile, his face covered with spaghetti sauce because he still hasn't fully figured out how to properly eat them without getting dirty. The picture wasn't perfect without that innocent look in his eyes that contradicted his large, tattooed frame. His entire personality didn't truly match the rough exterior. 

"Via?" I heard a distant voice call my name. "Earth to Via!" 

My head snapped back and I blinked. "What?" 

Looking over at Mr. McDonnell, he looked extremely amused. It wasn't until then that I realized that I've been blankly staring at the wall for a good minute and a half with a stupid grin on my face. How embarrassing. 

"Alright, ladies. Let's begin," he then announced and raised from his chair, rubbing his palms together. "This is Miss Axton." 

"Via," I corrected him quietly. 

"Via," he repeated. "She will be teaching this class from now on. Ladies, please behave. Especially you, Edith." The wrinkles around his eyes deepened as he narrowed them at a small, frail-looking old woman who faked a shocked expression. Her small hand rested over her chest, big pale blue eyes staring at the both of us. I could hardly hold back a chuckle and had to cover my mouth with my fingers. 

***

The class went by smoothly. I found myself really enjoying the day and it didn't even feel like three hours. They were hilarious and their laughter was contagious. The topics between painting were changing with rapid-fire and yet they were all discussed in detail. From how they met their husbands, to their children, to their cooking skills and a very intense competition about which one of them makes the best peach cobbler. In the end, they settled with the idea that they will each bring their own to the next class and I was going to be the judge. Which, in hindsight, might be a bad idea. I loved desserts but I was the least indecisive person ever. And how could I possibly tell one of them their dessert was the best when they were all so excited? 

Mr. McDonnell left the classroom after about fifteen minutes and I didn't even notice him sneaking out. In any other situation, my anxiety levels would rise but I felt like I actually had this under control. It felt natural, not only painting but teaching as well. The more minutes that passed, the more I felt like I've spent there more time than I actually have. It felt like a second home. 

I was washing my brushes in between of waving goodbye to my students. The word didn't really make sense but it was the best one I had. Quietly, I was humming to myself when I felt a hand on my forearm. I turned my head, my gaze meeting Edith. A warm smile was plastered on her cheeks and despite my own small stance, she was barely reaching up to my shoulders. 

"What can I do for you, Edith?" I asked, the curvature of my lips matching her own. 

"It's good to have you back. They said I'm not allowed to say that but oh, my dear, you were my favorite teacher. You know how to party," she almost squealed, moving her hips from side to side as much as she possibly could without her cane getting in the way. 

I couldn't help but laugh as I covered her hand with my own. 

"That's sweet, Edith. Thank you." 

"I'm going to make the best peach cobbler. You'll see. And I'll bring you a little something extra," she added before she turned around and hurried out of the classroom to catch up with her friends with tiny but as quick of steps as she possibly could. 

At first, I didn't really comprehend her words. But as I was left alone in the room, a frown formed on my forehead and I took a moment to really take in my surroundings. For just a moment, my vision became blurry. I gripped the edge of the desk and accidentally knocked over the brush holder. I inhaled sharply and tried to focus on the hung-up paintings surrounding me. 

The view went back into focus and I felt relieved for that split of a second until a sharp pain shot through my head along with high-pitch ringing. I groaned and closed my eyes, my knees giving up from beneath me. I crashed to the ground, hands grabbing my head. A scream broke apart my lips from the agonizing pain that had me twist on the ground. My chest heaved up and down with quick and shallow breaths, tears spilling over my waterlines. I heard a set of heavy footsteps before I was pulled into the darkness. 

　　A knock broke the giggles and chatter and I turned my head to the door. I lowered my brush and glanced at the ladies behind me. 
　　"Come in!" I called out and watched the doorknob being twisted. I walked away from the canvas to meet the person halfway. As the door opened, I was instantly greeted by a large bouquet. I gasped along with the rest of the people in the classroom. I took the flowers from the man's hands and brought them to my nose, a blush heating up my cheeks. Instant whispers filled the room, the women leaning towards each other to hear properly. 
　　"I heard you were having a bad day," the voice said and his figure leaned closer to press his lips to mine. I returned the soft kiss, my hand moving to rest on his cheek. 
　　"What would I do without you?" I murmured against his mouth, a grin etching on mine. 
　　"Let's not find out," he muttered in response and pecked my lips one more time before he pulled away. His voice sounded a bit disoriented, like an echo. I looked at him, my hand was still touching the side of his face but ... it was blurry. I froze in my place as the conversation continued behind me. 
　　"I can't remember when it was the last time my husband brought me flowers," Edith complained, with an annoyed sigh following. 
　　"Eddie, your man is paralyzed from the neck down," Willa commented in a scolding tone. 
　　"So?" Edith was having none of it. 

I felt my body jerk up before my back hit the floor again. Until warmness consumed me. That familiar feeling of safety ... The scene faded out and was replaced by a new one. 

　　"Today we're painting with a single color. You can use any shade of that color, including black and white, and paint whatever your heart desires. Each color represents a different emotion so choose the one that speaks to you the most," I elaborated on the assignment. 
　　I felt a pair of judgmental eyes on myself and I arched my eyebrow at the lady who was peering at me from around her canvas. 
　　"I would've taken you more seriously if you weren't covered in paint, lovey," Edith commented and I slapped my forehead, my whole frame shaking with laughter. 
　　"Okay, tone it down, Edith. Did they not give you coffee when you came here?" I teased her back. 
　　"I think they put some whiskey in it," Willa replied, earning a glare from Edith. 
　　"They're too cheap. I had to bring it myself," Edith fired back. 
　　"Ladies, ladies. Let's focus all of that energy on the paintings, shall we?" I suggested with a big smile on my face. I turned back to my own canvas, choosing the color blue for myself. I mixed a few different shades, remotely getting the idea of what I wanted to paint. I dipped my brush into a color and lifted my hand, hovering it just by the canvas. "Make sure your darker shades are used for shadows like we learned the last time. This technique is easier for some than using every color on the spectrum. You'll let me know, right?" I said and looked over my shoulder. 
　　I hardly touched the white canvas when I heard a soft whisper of my name. I turned my head again. 
　　"Who called me?" I asked but the women acted as if I wasn't speaking to them. I frowned and once more rerouted my attention to the painting. I stopped and stared as the picture I wanted to paint seemed to be painting itself. I could see clear brush strokes but I wasn't making them. 
　　"Via?!" I heard again, jumping in place and holding my breath. 
　　"Do you hear that?" I asked out loud but received no answer. 
　　"Via!" 

"She's out of it," I heard Maya say under her breath and a hand on my face. I tried to open my eyes but the lids were just too heavy. 

"You said you won't let this happen again, Maya. You fucking promised," an angry male voice replied but everything sounded so muffled, I could hardly make out the words. Zach? 

I wanted to speak so badly. I wanted to ask what the hell happened and demand some answers. So many things were being kept from me and I was having just about enough of it. 

Impatient footsteps echoed through my head. Up and down, up and down, up and down. I counted them until I fell back under. 

"What did the doctor say?" A more worried tone laced the vocals this time. I felt my hand move, calloused fingers wrap around it. 

"They ... They don't know," I think Maya replied. I wanted to stay awake. I wanted to hear more, especially since they seemed to be speaking of things that wouldn't be said to me directly. 

"It's either happening again or it isn't," more anger was conveyed this time. Then silence followed. 

I tried to part my lips at least but my body felt so weak. 

"How much time?" The same voice demanded. Silence again. Then the dark. 

I think I've heard this conversation before and I didn't like the ending. 

***

A groan passed my lips, brows furrowed as I finally opened my eyes. I was greeted by a high, white ceiling and a beeping next to me. My vision slowly returned to focus as I was regaining my consciousness and I turned my head to look around. A machine writing down my heartbeat was next to me. I was in a hospital. 

I looked down my body, seeing a needle in my wrist from an IV, and a clip on my forefinger. A white gown covered by the hospital sheets hiding the bruises I could feel on my skin from the fall. 

Pressing my palms against the uncomfortable mattress, I pushed myself into a sitting position and recklessly pulled out my IV. I hissed at the needle extraction and covered it with my other palm before I properly looked around. I was more than confused. Linking my digits with the rest of the cords, I pulled them all away from me and shifted to the side, my feet dangling off the side of the bed. The weirdest thing about all of this was that I felt completely fine. 

Somewhat carefully, I slipped onto the ground and took a few steps around the empty room. Someone was in here before. I was sure of it. But there were no traces of anyone. 

Just as the thought formed in my head, the door creaked open. I looked to see who it was but before I could get a proper look, Maya's arms went flying around my neck. 

"Oh my god, you scared me!" she exclaimed and squeezed me tighter which was a contradiction to her next words. "You shouldn't be up on your feet. You're weak." 

I wrapped my arms around her midsection and returned the hug, resting my chin on my sister's shoulder. 

"I'm okay," I assured her. "I had such weird dreams though ... " Pulling back, I set my eyes on Maya. "What happened?" 

I could see the battle behind her eyes and that let me know she was coming up with another lie. Really? After all of this, she still thought it was best to keep lying to me? 

"Low blood pressure. You fainted." That was the answer she settled with. Well, it might not be a complete lie but I remembered the conversation I heard. Well, parts of it. 

She guided me back to the bed but I only sat on the edge, despite her urging me to lie back down. 

"Who was here with you? I heard ... Someone else." I scanned the room once more, my small hands resting on my lap. 

"What do you mean? It was just me and the doctors," Maya replied without missing a beat. Too quickly. Did she not realize I was making mental tabs of everything she had told me? 

"No, you were speaking about what the doctors said. What's happening again?" I persisted and watched as Maya was growing paler and paler. She was never really good at keeping up the front and I was often too stubborn for my own good. 

"I don't know what you mean, Via. You were pretty out of it. It was probably just another dream." 

"Except that it was not. And even the ... the ... " I groaned and dropped my head into my hands. "The dreams didn't feel like dreams. They felt like memories. Memories I don't have," I insisted and set my gaze upon her once more. 

She let out a breath and sat next to me, her black nail-polished fingers encircling my hand. 

"You hit your head when you fell. We'll figure it out, okay? You're just a little confused right now." What a liar. 

I was genuinely getting so sick and tired of letting things go simply because I didn't want to put her in a weird position. Whatever it was, it was serious and it could potentially bring her or myself pain. That was clear. But was the best option here really leaving me in the dark? She made me feel so defenseless. I was an adult woman, I stood on my own two feet and she insisted on holding me up like a child. So much so that when I fought back I truly did feel like one. Was I losing my mind? 

"When can I go home?" I asked. The tone of my voice was a clear giveaway that I was tired of trying to extract information out of her. 

Maya sighed. 

"They still want to run a few tests before they can discharge you. Just to be sure." 

I nodded my head and scooted back against the pillow before shoving my legs underneath the blanket. It smelled so funny in here. I never liked the smell of the hospital or the feeling it brought with it. Somehow, in my head, it made everything feel worse. I didn't feel tired or sick but I felt defeated and embarrassed. I was taking the doctor's time when they could've given it to someone who possibly needed it more. I didn't like all that attention on me and I was glad I was asleep when it happened, rather than to look up at their faces and just feel guilty for making anyone worry. 

"Did Zach call?" I asked with a quiet voice. 

Maya shifted. As if on cue, I heard heavy boots hitting the floor and enter the room. My eyes met his and I was just as surprised to see him as he was surprised to see me awake. 

"Zach," I said with an undeniable smile on my lips. 

"Hey. You're up." His smile mirrored mine and he walked closer to me, stopping by the bed. 

Maya didn't like this and she didn't hide it. So, I spoke up. 

"Can you give us a minute?" 

She shook her head and I gave her a glare. "Maya. Can you fucking stop now?" 

Her blue gaze moved to the male who had entered the room. I didn't know why she was always acting like he was disrupting our time. She had disliked him from the first moment and I still didn't understand why. After a few seconds of an intense gaze in his direction and a small nod from him, she got up from my bed. 

"Five minutes," she said and walked backward almost all the way to the door. 

"She's so weird ... " I murmured as I looked after her then finally averted my gaze to Zach again. A scowl was now pushing his bushy eyebrows together but his mismatched eyes were fixated on me. "What?" I asked softly. 

He inhaled deeply and shook his head. 

"You scared the shit out of me," he almost whispered. 

"I knew you were here. You were here, right? Talking to Maya. When I was out." Despair flashed in my eyes, a silent plea so at least he would tell me the truth. 

Despite the pause he took, I knew the answer. 

"I wasn't just here. I found you screaming on the floor," he elaborated and pulled a chair closer to the bed. He took a seat and leaned his elbows atop the mattress, next to my legs. The way he held his expression at that moment looked as if he was in actual physical pain. Instinctively, I reached my hand to him and rested my palm on his scruff-covered cheek. His lips parted with an exhale and he leaned into my touch as his eyes fluttered shut. 

"I feel okay," I promised him quietly, trying to ease his mind. 

"I know," he whispered back, his palm covering the back of mine. For a moment, I feared he would push it away but instead, he only pressed it harder against his cheek. I took this time to look at him. To really look at him. The way his eyelashes rested against his cheeks when his eyes were closed, the curvature of his lips, the way a few unruly strands of his dirty-blonde hair fell over his face. 

His head turned for a few degrees, his puckered lips pressing against the inside of my palm. It felt like such a natural movement. Such a small yet utterly sweet gesture. 

"What were you doing at the gallery?" I asked him, my voice matching the calm atmosphere. 

He gave me a small smile. "I wanted to apologize for being a dick. And maybe take you to lunch." He moved my hand from his cheek but kept his own covering it. The rough pad of his thumb brushed over my knuckles. "I was waiting outside for you to finish the class and by the time I could reach you ... I heard you screaming. You were already on the ground when I got in and I called Maya from the ambulance." 

That sounded like the truth. Finally. I had to keep going. 

"What were you and Maya talking about?" I asked after a brief pause. "She says it was just low blood pressure and I fainted but I don't buy that." 

His warm eyes watched me but his lips didn't move. 

"Zach, please. I need to know," I begged. 

"I don't really know," he finally said. "But I know it's more than that. If you were anemic, they'd prescribe you some pills and you'd be on your way home. Please, don't tell Maya I said anything. I already get regular threatening messages from her." He gave me a crooked smile in an attempt to lighten the mood. And I gave in by letting a quiet chuckle bubble up my throat. 

Turning my hand, I enveloped my fingers around his. My gaze fell to our hands and I was being pulled back into my thoughts. 

"What is it?" he asked, gaining my attention once more. 

I frowned. "It's weird, I ... I had these ... dreams, I guess. When I was out." 

He tilted his head, the simple motion beckoning me to continue. 

"Except they didn't feel like dreams. More like flashbacks. Of things that I don't remember. And I think it was triggered by something one of the ladies said to me." 

"What did she say?" he asked curiously, big eyes on me, following my every move. 

"She said I was her favorite teacher and that it was good to have me back. But it was my first day, right?" 

"Then what happened?" he queried. 

"I felt this sharp pain in my head and I just collapsed. I dreamed of being right there in that classroom. Teaching the same group. Then someone knocked on the door. A man. He brought me flowers and he kissed me. But I didn't see his face. He said he heard I was having a bad day."

While the frown remained on my forehead, my green hues shifted from our hands back up to his face. And his expression matched mine. 

"You don't know who it was?" he asked, making sure. 

I shook my head. He seemed to be in deep thought all of a sudden by the way he leaned against the backrest. 

"And you're absolutely sure it wasn't just a dream?" 

"No, Zach. I'm telling you. It felt like something that actually happened at one point. You believe me, right? Maya is already making me feel insane." 

He set his eyes on me and his features softened instantly. 

"Of course, I believe you, green eyes. Look, first, you need to get the hell out of here. Just play along. Humor me. Then we'll figure all of this out, okay?" he said and leaned back towards me. 

"Okay," I agreed with a small nod. 

He brought my hand up to his lips and painted another kiss on my knuckles.