jasper | part one (completed)

Chapter Twenty-One

I looked up from my bowl of ice cream with raised a brow. "What?"

"We," my mother gestured between us. "Are going to the art supplies store!"

I scrutinised her, nothing seemed to be out of place... "Why?"

No offence to my mother but she wasn't the kind to just simply go to the art supplies store. I had just gotten home from work. I was a tired, sweaty mess. As much as I loved the art store, I couldn't be stuffed and I was broke. There was no point.

Her lips lifted into a creepy smile. "Because you need paints!" She said it like it was the most logical explanation.

Well, she wasn't wrong. I was definitely lacking in that department, but her wanting to go with me made no sense. She hated the art store with a passion, she'd much rather take me clothes shopping instead.

I stuffed a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth. "Mum, I'm broke," I said.

"That's fine!" she said, waving her hand about. "I'm paying for it after all."

"I'm confused, did something happen?" I tried to count off the things I did in my head that my mum could possibly be mad about. There was nothing. She was pretty easy going, it took a lot to make her angry. But I must have done something, it wasn't like her to volunteer to take me shopping for art supplies and pay for it too.

She shook her head. "I just thought my little, baby painter should have some proper art supplies is all. Now chop chop, I don't have all night."

I looked to the mushy remains of ice cream in my bowl. "Can I finish my ice cream first?"

"No."

I frowned as I stood to discard my ice cream in the bin, may it melt in peace.

Her hand was placed firmly on her hip. "I'll be in the car," she said with a tight smile. She snatched her car keys from the counter and turned to leave. 

I sighed before carelessly throwing my dishes in the sink. I had definitely done something wrong, but what? She was already over the Jasper portrait thing so it couldn't have been that, right? 

The last thing my mum had brought me was a vibrator for Christmas, it was also the Christmas she'd tried to convince me to leave Kevin. 

"Trust me," she had said. "Your new friend will take you places Kevin never has." 

I was certain the only reason she had brought it for me was because she desperately wanted Kevin and me to break up. 

I shrugged on a red cardigan that I had discarded on the couch earlier and shuffled into my converse before running out the door. 

The drive was quick, unusually so but I didn't ask any questions. It was my mum, for her there was no need for explanations. Though the tick in her jaw and angsty look in her eyes had me on edge, the drive wasn't just simply about getting paint. There had to be something else. 

The car slowed to a stop in front of a fancy looking art store and all my concerns flew out the window. They were quickly replaced with excitement. I had yet visited an art store in the city. I was broke, the trip would have only ended up in heartbreak. 

My eyes lingered over its high arches and dark finishes. The exterior had a great, big extruding window in a fancy semi-hexagon formation, each panel of glass separated by shiny, black casings. Black, wooden painted panels lined the bottom of the store, its exterior walls following suit with the dark theme. Above the window in big, white lettering were the words: