Page 35 of Flame After the Fumble

I nod my head and twist the thin stems together so they don’t fall out. I lick my lips nervously and inch forward, placing my hand on her shoulder to steady myself before adorning her with nature’s growth. She closes her eyes, giving me a closer look at the light glitter that shimmers on her eyelids in the afternoon sun. She inhales a deep breath and keeps them closed, centering herself in the moment. “The smells are what I love the most.”

“Why?”

“It reminds me that the world is bigger than me. It’s filled with beauty all around us. My problems seem insignificant when I immerse myself in a place like this. I used to sneak out as a little kid and wander around the overgrown forest areas back home.” She smiles, bringing a core memory to the forefront of her mind. “I liked searching for clovers, moss that fell from the oak trees, or dandelions. After, I would go home and draw it how I remembered.”

“I get it.” It’s the reason I know about secret garden in the first place. Solitude brings me peace when everything feels too out of control. “You’re a wildflower, Liza.”

“How so?”

“Wildflowers are uniquely beautiful and different in their own way. They work together in a field like this one.” I sit on a patch of flat grass and help her down with me. She leans her head on my shoulder, reaching over to pick a few more flowers beside me. She inhales the sweet floral scent again and again. “I wasn’t sure how they worked, so I Googled it. They’re harmonious, but are significantly different from the same species rooted firmly next to them. They don’t care that they don’t make sense to most of the scientific world.” I snake my hand around her arm, touching her warm skin. “They make sense to each other.”

She lifts her head off my shoulder and meets my lazy stare with vulnerable eyes, desperate to give in to whatever is holding her back. She leans in and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. It’s soft, quick, and full of unspoken promises.

Her lips tremble as she blinks to cast away the sneaking emotion. “I was wrong about you. You’re not like him.” Her eyes tear away from mine.

My body is ablaze from her lips meeting mine. The first time she’s initiated contact, and that’s not lost on me.

I don’t speak another word, too worried to scare her off. Instead, we gently lay our backs to the dewy grass and look to the clouds, getting lost in the puffy white clouds that can be anything we want them to be. We don’t need words or empty promises. All we need is each other.

24

Liza

I’m a goner.Cause of death: Hartley Knox’s charm.

I’m still floating on cloud nine after he managed to pull off the most heartfelt and touching surprise. I don’t always wear flowers in my hair, but it’s something that connects me to the beauty and artistry of nature, like it did when I was little. Layne always reminded me how “childish” and “immature” he thought it was, but Hartley sees me for the real me without any walls or barriers. The harsh reality is that I’m falling for him. It’s not like I didn’t see this coming from a mile away, but I was able to live in my bubble of denial until he made it his mission to prove he can beitfor me.Maybe the growth I've been through this year has allowed me to open up again.

We’re less than twenty-four hours removed from our date, but I’m itching to see him again. There’s not much of a chance to steal a glance of him on my side of campus, so I settle for hoping that I’ll catch a glimpse in the lunch hall later.

My favorite class of the week is here, and I’m anxiously anticipating showing off my rough sketches for the portfolioproject to my professor and some of my classmates. It always helps to get multiple sets of eyes on a piece before adding color.

“Welcome, Liza!” my outspoken professor shouts and saunters over to the table I sit at every week. Since this is a self-paced class, it provides more one-to-one coaching with the professor. “How are your pieces coming along?”

“So far, so good.” I flip open my sketchbook to the piece of Hartley in the locker room. Each time I look at it, I fixate on a new detail I didn’t see before. Today’s fixation happens to be his muscles rippling on the page.

“Wow,” he lets out as his fingers trace my pencil sketch. “I have to say, you’re stepping far out of your comfort zone.”

Insecurity creeps up on me and heat spreads up my neck, undoubtedly causing red blotches to form. The thought of my piece not being good enough nauseates me. “It’s just a rough sketch. I’m thinking about changing this.” I point to the background behind Hartley’s body. The small pieces of equipment in his locker aren’t bringing enough detail to the piece. “I should have caught this already.” I reach into my art pouch to grab an eraser, when he stops me.

“Woah. . . what are you doing?” His eyes are filled with confusion.

I fidget through my pouch, unable to find that stupid eraser. “You’re right. This material is way out of my comfort zone and I need to fix some things to make it perfect.”

“Liza, take a deep breath with me.” He inhales deeply and rolls his hands in front of me to encourage me to do the same.

I let out a long breath and force my shoulder muscles to relax.

“This,” he runs his fingers across the page, “is amazing.”

“Really?” My voice lights up at the compliment.

“I can see how much this subject matter resonates with you. The movement of the piece is brilliant. It feels as if I’m in the moment with the subject.”

“Thank you.”

He pats my back. “Keep up the good work.”

A wide smile spreads across my face, causing my cheeks to ache. I spend the rest of the class working out the final kinks on my first two sketches before it’s time to leave. This class sucks me into a space where time flies, and my mind finds peace in the strokes of my art.

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