Living for the fat girl [Book 2]

Part 28

28. Arya

It's only one more week until Christmas. That means only a few more days until I get to present my painting to Alex. A nervous excitement has been building in the pit of my stomach over the past few weeks, making me giddy and anxious at the same time. The weather has taken a turn for the worse. Snow has actually been announced for the Christmas days. I'm still doubtful about it. Most people who have lived here their whole lives haven't ever even seen snow unless they went skiing at some fancy ski resort.

"How's it coming along?" Seth rests his chin atop of my head, letting his arms fall loosely over my shoulders as he comes up behind me.

I put down my paintbrush and wipe my hands off on my apron.

"It's missing something, don't you think?"

I eye the painting in front of me, trying to figure out what to add or take away. What would make it complete? There's a family there. Mother and father dressed in business clothing, standing tall in the center focus of the picture. A daughter, curly-haired and wide-eyed sitting by their feet, reaching upwards with both hands, trying to get her parents' attention. She's sitting on a pile of beauty magazines. In the back there's the teenage son, dressed in the same business suit as his father except his one's too tight, choking him. His face is pained, his eyes bulging from their sockets, his hands desperately clutching at his collar. It's all held in black and greys but I replaced the Banksy-inspired graffiti style with my own. To keep with the theme, above the family it reads in capital letters

THE FAMILY BUSINESS

"Color?" Seth suggests, his chest vibrating against my back.

"I always do black and white. It's my signature," I explain but get off the little stool I've been sitting on to cross the room.

I pick up a box that holds a few colored crayons, acrylics and pencils. Taking off its lid, I tip over the box, letting its contents spill over the floor. I kneel down on the ground and start sorting everything.

"What color?" I ask, looking up at Seth.

He just smiles down at me, joining me on the ground. He picks up a tube of yellow oil paint, holding it up to me but I shake my head. Certainly not yellow. Seth shrugs and instead of picking another color, he picks up both of my hands, cradling them in his. Even after all this time I still feel strange when he looks at me the way he does now. He makes my heart flutter and my skin burn. His eyes, still the same bright green as when I met him, hold so much more than way back when we were in high school. Now I can see him crystal clear. Back then all I say was hatred and disgust and...

"Babe, it doesn't matter. No matter what you do, you'll be amazing. That Alex punk should count himself lucky that you're giving him the time of day." I snort, laughing and shake my head

"I'm the lucky one." As I push myself off the ground, I quickly peck Seth's lips. "I have an idea."

I put my hands on my hips and look back and forth between the painting and the different colors on the ground. How did I not think of this before? I pick up a specific tube and sit back down in front of the painting. The paint squirts from the tube onto my palette and I quickly dip my paintbrush into it. Seth approaches from behind again and watches as I place the color very specifically. When I'm done I put my name at the bottom right corner in the same color and lean back.