Kellen picked up on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Hey! It’s Mira.” She was so relieved he had actually answered. The past two days her calls had gone straight to voice mail. “How are you?”
“How are you?” Kellen’s voice sounded so low on the phone. “My aunt said you guys had some wicked weather down there. She lost power for two days and we saw on the news that a tornado touched down in Raleigh. Scary. Did you guys manage okay?”
She was walking along Main Street after school on the way to her second Selma Simmons class, which was rescheduled for a weekday because of the weather over the weekend. There was still a lot of debris from the storm, but the flowering dogwood trees along the sidewalk were unscathed. “A tree came down in our backyard, but we only lost power for a few hours, so it wasn’t so bad.”
If you forgot about the fact that Izzie was more than a hundred miles away on her birthday and her parents were worried sick. Or that Dylan had posted pictures of what they had been up to during the storm on her public Facebook page and had tagged Izzie, which meant that everyone could see them, including Grayson Reynolds, who republished them in this morning’s paper along with an op-ed piece on her dad’s parenting. The pictures weren’t scandalous—shots of Izzie and Brayden hugging some people she’d never seen before—but the setting was: a college party with alcohol. Even Brayden got in trouble for that one. Both of them were grounded and could only go to school activities.
But now that Mira’s conversations with Kellen were limited to the phone, there didn’t seem to be time to tell him all this. So instead she said, “We’re fine.”
“Good,” Kellen said. “I was so worried.”
If you were worried, then why haven’t you called? she wanted to say. Hayden said guys hated the phone, but if it’s the only way you can talk to your girlfriend—correction: former girlfriend whom you supposedly still care about—then wouldn’t he do it?
“So… is there a reason you called?” he asked.
Mira stopped short on the sidewalk and a mother with a stroller had to maneuver around her. “No.” Now she needed a reason to say hi? “I guess I’ll let you go, then.”
Kellen fumbled for an explanation. “Sorry, I’m just on my way out. They’re having a dance at school tonight, and I have to go early to set up.”
“I thought you hated school stuff.” Mira tried not to sound accusatory, but it was true. She practically had to beg him to go to the Falling into You Fest, and when she’d originally brought up cotillion, he’d thought it sounded lame.
“New school, new attitude, I guess. My parents think it’s a good way to fit in, and I don’t mind. I like it here already. Especially not having to wear a uniform,” Kellen added. “I’m thinking of hosting a bonfire to burn mine.”
He didn’t seem to miss EP at all. Did that mean he didn’t miss her, either? “Send me a picture when you do,” she said.
“I will. What are you up to?”
“I’m on my way to that art class I told you about.”
“Cool.” He sounded like he was on the move, too. “How’s that going?”
The teacher hates me, so I pretty much have to fight my way through class, but I’m no quitter. “Great!”
“Take a picture of your latest painting so I can see it.” He sounded lighter. “I should go, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
When is soon? There seemed to be more she didn’t say than things she did these days. “Okay.” She hung up. No I miss you. No I wish you were here. Nothing.
Annoyed, she tossed the phone in her bag and vowed to leave it there the rest of the day. Last week she had missed his call, so now she kept her phone glued to her side in case he checked in. She hated being that girl. She had come so far from her phase of total boyfriend adoration (with Taylor) to having a seminormal relationship (Kellen), and now it felt like she was back to square one. She did not want to sit by the phone and wait for his calls, but somehow she couldn’t stop herself.
“Oh, mercy, what happened now?” Charlotte cried when she saw Mira’s face. She was already at her easel putting the finishing touches on this week’s assignment, and Landon was two easels away working on his. The room smelled overwhelmingly of turpentine and paints. He looked up and smiled when he saw her, but she just scowled and threw her art bag down in disgust.
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,” Landon said. “Rough day?”
“Rough week.” Mira pulled her painting out to look it over one last time. Selma had asked them to paint a vase. It had sounded so simple that Mira and Charlotte figured there was a secret to it that she wasn’t telling. Mira had decided that instead of painting her vase a solid color, she would painstakingly draw a square pattern all over it and paint every square a different color. She had used paint that had a glasslike sheen so that every square was iridescent. She dared Selma Simmons to hate this project. She had given it her best effort. Charlotte had, too. Every detail of her Tiffany blue vase was perfect, down to the single yellow rose. “Char, that’s stunning.”
“Really?” Charlotte looked at it from an angle. “Does the shadow work?”
Landon offered up his own critique. “I like how you mixed up the mediums and used chalk for that element.”
Charlotte grinned and looked at Mira conspiratorially. “Well, if you like mine, then you will love Mira’s.” Mira gave her a look. “Why don’t you two discuss it?” Charlotte got up and walked away.
Mira’s scowl returned only briefly because seconds later she could feel Landon standing behind her. Their arms touched when he leaned forward to get even closer to her painting. “That is some pattern you have going on. That must have taken forever.”
“It did.” She’d been working on it every night for a week. “Can I see yours?”
Landon stepped aside, and Mira saw his work. It was a painting of a clear vase full of marbles. His art blew hers and Charlotte’s out of the water. “That looks so real! How did you do that?”
“I took a class in photo-realism once.” The way he looked directly at her while he talked made her stomach flip-flop. “The teacher said to paint what you see, not what you want to see.” His fingers swept across his paper to prove a point. “See how distorted some of the marbles are? I did it like that so they would look like a different shape through the glass. My teacher said to focus on the colors. They need to pop.” His did. The marbles were a mix of bright yellows and greens that melted together in the jar.
“Sounds like you had a great teacher.” Mira couldn’t help but sound envious.
Landon pursed his lips. “If she starts with you again, try not to take it to heart.”
Mira sort of laughed. “How? I work so hard and she crushes me.”
Landon made a face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but did you ever think Selma just might not like you personally?” When Mira gaped, Landon laughed deeply. “I have a hard time imagining anyone not liking you, either, but maybe this has got nothing to do with your work. She just doesn’t like you for some reason, so she takes it out on your paintings.” He shrugged. “Some people get a rise out of making others uncomfortable.”
Mira thought about it for a moment, then cried, “How could anyone not like me?”
“Who doesn’t like you?” Charlotte, who’d returned, gave Landon a suspicious glance.
Landon held up his hands in surrender. “I can see I said the wrong thing. Let me explain.” He looked around, then pulled both girls toward him. Mira was so close to him that their bodies were touching. “You know your dad nixed funding for a new wing of the North Carolina Museum of Art, right? Well, Selma was a huge supporter of the project, which means you were probably right on that first day,” he translated. “She might be holding something against you because of your last name.”
Mira blinked. Could that really be true? “How do you know that?”
“The newspaper,” Landon said. “Don’t you have to read it for your journalism classes?”
She didn’t take journalism.
“I wonder why your dad said no to it,” Charlotte said.
“He turns down proposals every day,” Mira said. “There just isn’t enough money in the state budget to do everything everyone wants. People forget that. They think when he says no, he’s being an ogre.” Mira looked at Landon. Suddenly she felt so much lighter. “Why didn’t you just tell me that earlier?”
Landon shrugged. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”
So it wasn’t her. It was her dad. Sure, her work wasn’t perfect, but at least now she knew why Selma’s critiques were so vicious. She couldn’t help but smile.
“Why are you smiling?” Charlotte seemed surprised. “I’m happy if you’re happy, but I still think he owes you an apology.” She pointed to Landon, who seemed surprised. “For, you know, upsetting you before class.” Mira could practically see the matchmaking wheels turning in her friend’s head. “I’m thinking dinner would suffice.”
Mira’s cheeks began to redden. “That’s not necessary. He was trying to help.”
Charlotte was undeterred. “It would have helped if you knew weeks ago! No, dinner is the least he can do after keeping something like this from you.”
Was it her imagination, or did Landon look amused? “I have my Art Equals Love class after this, but if you want to help out, we could grab something after. Least I could do is buy you a soda after causing you so much anguish.” Charlotte nodded in agreement.
The sound of Selma Simmons’s heels echoing on the wooden floors was enough to end all conversations. The three quickly took their seats and faced forward, waiting for the teacher to start her critiques. For the first time, Mira felt calm about the impending criticism. After a short exercise—paint a pair of eyes in great detail—Selma started her interrogations. The first few students’ works were so dreadful Selma skipped the next two rows and went straight to theirs. As she had the past two weeks, she loved Charlotte’s work, praising the shadow and the coloring on the vase. Landon, too, got a pat on the back, and the class got a lecture on photo-realism paintings. Finally she turned to Mira.
Mira sat calmly as Selma quietly unclipped her painting and held it up to the class. “Can anyone tell me what is wrong with this vase?” Selma turned in a circle so that everyone in the front and the back could see the painting. No one raised their hand.
“I actually like how distinct it is,” Landon said, coming to Mira’s defense already. “She really knows how to pair colors. The vase practically shines.”
Selma took off her glasses and let them hang from the eyeglass holders, as if the strain of Mira’s awful work was too much for her. “I know I told you your work needed more definition, but you’ve taken that instruction too far,” she said to Mira. “Your vase is so busy it outshines the daffodils you put inside it.”
Usually this would be about the time when Mira argued with her, but instead she kept quiet. Selma didn’t seem quite sure what to make of that.
“This vase is one-dimensional, the colors are dizzying, and the shadow is completely overpowering the rest of the background,” Selma continued. “I think you should repeat this assignment.” Mira still was quiet. “Don’t you have any comments?”
“Not right now, ma’am.” Mira was a lady, unlike Selma Simmons, apparently, and she didn’t need an audience to tell her teacher how she felt. “We can talk after class.”
Selma glared at her. “Whatever you have to say to me, Ms. Monroe, you can say in front of the whole class. We have no secrets in here.”
Landon gave Mira a wicked grin that seemed to say “go for it!”
Mira took a deep breath. “While I appreciate your criticism, and I know I have a lot to learn, I no longer respect your opinion of my work.”
Selma glared at her. “Excuse me?”
“You are a talented artist, but a good teacher judges a student based on her work, not what her last name is.” Selma’s eyes fluttered with recognition. “I hope you can remember that when I redo this assignment.” Mira gave Selma a bright smile. A true belle always ended a conversation pleasantly.
Selma mumbled something Mira couldn’t understand, then skipped the rest of the critiques and told the students to “free paint” for the remainder of their time because she suddenly had a migraine. Mira could barely contain herself. She happily took out her colored pencils and sketched a drawing of their backyard after the storm. Every once in a while she would look up and catch Selma staring, her cheeks tinged a pink hue.
When class finally let out and Selma had left the building, Landon surprised Mira by lifting her into the air and spinning her around. Mira didn’t mind one bit.
“That was incredible!” Mira gushed as Charlotte quietly moved away to avoid ruining the moment. “Did you see Selma’s face?”
“You schooled her!” Landon said. “And in such a smooth way even I felt guilty. And I did nothing wrong.” Mira laughed. “Classy move.”
Mira jokingly curtsied, but she was serious when she looked into his dark eyes. “Thank you for telling me that. I don’t know how you remembered a newspaper story about my dad, but that tip couldn’t have come at a better time.” She thought of her crappy conversation with Kellen and her worries on the way to Selma’s class.
Landon looked like he had something to say, but they both realized they weren’t alone. Emerald Arts was already resetting the room for the next class. The easels were being moved aside to create space for large, paint-splattered tables. A girl was putting plastic cups of paint and jars full of water on the tables. Others started to trickle in, too, getting right to work. Everyone seemed excited to see Landon. The other volunteers chatted as they brought out buckets of used brushes alongside paint smocks and lampshades. Mira wasn’t sure what those were for. All she knew was that kids were waiting eagerly in the hallway, some younger than Connor. When one of the girls beckoned them to come in, everyone seemed to know exactly where to go.
“Are you sure it’s okay I’m here?” Mira felt a little uncomfortable.
Landon put a hand on her back, and Mira stiffened slightly. “We could use the help. Let me introduce you to everyone.” He pointed out various volunteers before finally introducing her to the nine-year-old girl he worked with in class. “Don’t be surprised if Jillian is a little shy at first,” Landon warned as he led her over to a peanut of a girl with shoulder-length straight hair. She was wearing a Taylor Swift T.
“Jilly Bean, this is Mira. Mira, meet Jilly Bean.” Landon made the introductions.
“Hi, Jillian,” Mira said brightly.
“Hey.” Jillian didn’t make eye contact. “Landon, do you have to call me Jilly Bean around other people?” she whispered. “It’s embarrassing.”
Landon ruffled her shoulders. “If Taylor Swift was calling you that, I bet you wouldn’t mind.” He sang a few lines from one of Taylor’s songs.
“You listen to Taylor Swift?” Mira asked incredulously.
Landon’s cheeks colored slightly. “Maybe.”
At the mention of Taylor, Jillian opened up. “Not maybe. He knows all her songs.”
“Now you’re embarrassing me.” Landon wouldn’t look at Mira as he rearranged Jillian’s art supplies. There were small containers of what looked like crushed eggshells, each container holding a different color shell.
“Do you like Taylor Swift?” Jillian looked tentatively at Mira.
“Who doesn’t like the goddess of pop country music?” Mira said. “Right, Landon?” He pretended to be hard of hearing while he took out construction paper and glue and placed them in front of Jillian.
Jillian clearly was catching on to the shaming. “He likes Justin Bieber, too. He sang one of his songs to me for my birthday.” Mira started to laugh uncontrollably.
Landon let some crushed pink eggshells fall through his fingers back into the container. “Stop giving away my secrets! I’m starting to regret inviting you here,” he grumbled jokingly to Mira.
“Why do you care what she thinks?” Jillian asked. “Is she your girlfriend?”
Mira stopped laughing, and she and Landon looked at each other. His cheeks grew more pink, and she was sure hers were the same color. “We’re just friends.” His eyes never left Mira’s face. “Mira has a boyfriend.”
Jillian’s face fell. “You do?”
Mira felt an overwhelming urge to correct that statement. “Had a boyfriend. He moved away a few weeks ago.” She looked at Jillian even though she knew Landon was watching her. It was a relief to say that out loud. It felt like Kellen had understood things were over the minute he stepped on that plane, but she’d needed time to wrap her head around the change. She and Kellen would always have a connection, but she needed to keep reminding herself that they weren’t a couple anymore. She couldn’t continue to act like they were one, because doing that only hurt one person: herself.
“Taylor Swift has had a lot of famous breakups, and she writes songs about them.” Jillian was playing with the dyed eggshells as she gave Mira the rundown of Taylor’s love life. “It probably has to do with all the touring she does.”
Landon shook his head. “Darn touring.”
“If I do well on my next math test, Landon promised he’d try to get tickets to a Taylor Swift concert. She’s coming to the Greensboro Coliseum this summer.” Jillian stared at the paint-splattered table. “But he said he’ll only take me if I get a B.”
“There have to be rules if you want me to take you to hear Taylor whine about her love life.” Landon handed her a lampshade. Some of the other groups had already started working. “So, Bean, today we’re gluing eggshells on this shade. You can make whatever design you like.” Jillian stared at her construction paper for inspiration. “Why don’t you sketch a design on the shade first?” She nodded.
Mira followed Landon over to the counter to get more glue. Jillian had put her iPod earbuds in and was singing along to a Taylor song. “She’s a really sweet kid,” Mira said, and hesitated. “What qualified her for a class like this?”
“Everyone’s story is different,” Landon explained. “Some kids are on the autism spectrum or have other special needs. Some come from bad homes. Jillian’s parents were going through a really bad divorce, and she wasn’t coping well at school. She needed a shot of self-esteem. She’s been with me for about a year now, and she’s come a long way. I can’t believe how easily she opened up to you.” He looked over at her. “She never would have done that a few months ago.”
It was nice to see a guy so invested in a kid like that. “You really care about her.”
Landon didn’t hesitate. “Of course.” He leaned over and whispered in her ear. “And I already got the Taylor Swift tickets. She’s going whether she gets a B or not.” He grinned proudly. “The only problem is I got stuck with four seats even though I only need two. This guy on eBay wouldn’t split his four, so I bought all of them. I already had been outbid on another set, so I didn’t want to let these go. I used all my birthday money, but Jilly Bean deserves it.”
That might have been the cutest thing she’d ever heard a guy say.
“So now I have two extra tickets.” Landon leaned on the sink and tried to look cool even though the topic was totally adorkable. “Know anyone who might want to see Taylor Swift with me?”
“Charlotte is obsessed with her,” Mira teased, and he looked slightly disappointed. “I don’t think she’s so bad, either. If you’re asking.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “I’m asking. So it’s a date,” he said, and she felt her stomach lurch. “But not until July.” They both laughed. “I’m not sure that will fly in Charlotte’s book. After all, she did say I owe you dinner for withholding valuable intel on Selma Simmons.”
Mira tried hard not to smile. “That is true. So how do we fix this?”
“I take you out,” he said simply. “Tonight, though, is just the dress rehearsal. You guys didn’t really give me time to come up with a plan.” He looked at her searchingly. “Maybe next time you’ll let me take you out for real.”
Her whole body tingled. Her voice was small but clear. “It’s a deal.”