Page 55 of The Consequence of You
Mrs Hughes slides over a sheet of thick paper to me and I thank her. I reach for a box of charcoal, my favourite medium to draw in. Art has been my escape for a long time, but I rarely draw anymore. My biggest fan was my mother, and without her to share my work with, I’d indulged myself less and less over the years. Inhalingslowly, my fingers stroke the dark graphite, loving the smooth feel under my fingertips. I’d forgotten the peace drawing brings me.
Slowly, I make my first mark on the paper, allowing myself a few moments to get a feel for the density and depth of the black sooty strokes. The sticks feel almost like an extension of my hand as muscle memory takes over. We sit silently together, each lost in our memories.
The morning passes quickly, and I only look up when a shadow falls across our paper. I don’t need to look up to know it’s Asher. My body seems to react to him before my mind lately. My immediate instinct is to cover up my drawing, but I have nothing to do that with and I don’t want to risk smudging it, so I yank the piece of paper away, turning it so Asher can’t see the subject. Except I should have known it was too late.
“She was very beautiful.”
“She was,” I confirm quietly.
“I assume it’s your mother? You have her eyes.” With the lack of colour, all that the image I’d drawn represented was the shape, and yes, mine and hers were the same. I nod.
“I had no idea you were so talented, Calliope.” I blush at his words. I shouldn’t need his approval or care if he thinks I’m talented, but for some reason I like hearing him compliment me. Mrs Hughes nudges me and signs,
“Will you introduce me to the new volunteer?” Nodding, I sign back Asher’s name, telling her he also attends Heathley University.
“He’s the local royal?” she asks. Guess she reads gossip magazines like the rest of the planet then. Smiling, I confirm he’s who she thinks he is.
“He’s very handsome.” I smile again and shake my head.
“You don’t think I’m handsome, Calliope?”
He cocks his head, mirth sparkling in his green eyes. Of course he can read British Sign Language. Is there no end to this man’s talents?
“Don’t lie to me, Calliope. I know you always tell the truth, so be careful with your next words.” He has me trapped, and he knows it.
Mrs Hughes is watching us with interest, and I feel bad for excluding her from the conversation.
“You like this boy?” she signs, clearly no idea he can read BSL.
“Answer her question, Calliope,” Asher taunts, clearly finding this more than a little amusing. As I toy with telling her we’re friends, I realise it would be a lie. Asher and I are not friends. That’s something we’ll never be. Luckily, I don’t have to answer her, as the tension is broken by Susan calling into the room to tell us lunch is ready. Saved by the bell, quite literally.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
CALLIE
“Halloumi or feta?” Dahlia holds out the two wraps she’s bought us from the lunch counter as I hook my bag over the back of my chair.
“You choose. Both look lovely.”
She hands me the feta one and pulls out the chair next to me. She’s also bought a large bag of tortilla chips, which she opens for us to share.
“Thanks.” I pass her coffee over and unwrap my sandwich.
Tuesday is my longest day on campus, and I’m always ravenous by the time lunch comes around. My best friend and I try to meet up between lectures as much as we can. Dahlia was on a work experience placement last week, so we’ve not seen each other for a couple of weeks. We spend the next few minutes catching up, and she tells me animatedlyabout everything she learnt. It sounds fascinating and I make up my mind to try and arrange something with the career’s advisor for next semester.
We’re just finishing our food when Grayson drops into the chair next to Dahlia. His hair is damp so he must have come straight from the coaching he does with the younger kids over at the academy pool.
He drags Dahlia’s chair closer to his and whispers something in her ear. She blushes before pushing him away playfully. He eventually drags his eyes away from his girlfriend and greets me.
“Hi Callie.”
“Hey, Grayson. How’s it going?”
“Yeah, good. You?” I nod as he helps himself to the last of our crisps. “I’m bloody starving.”
“Do you want me to grab you something?” Dahlia asks him.
“No thanks, Asher’s sorting it. Speak of the devil…”
