Page 38 of Mark Us Little Bear
“No. All the boys in my school are idiots.” Her gaze drops to her sports shoes.
“I’m sure not all of them but that’s the spirit, your dad will love that.”
A tiny smile replaces the scowl on her face but it quickly fades.
My eyes drop down her form, noticing the rolled-up paper in her front pocket.
“Did you fail a test?”
Her eyes instantly snap up, “Don’t tell my parents.”
“I’m not going to tell them,” I reassure her. “Which class?”
“Art.”
I know a thing or two about art. “Why did you fail?”
“I don’t feel inspirational.” Pulling her hands from her pocket, she extracts her big pink sunglasses and puts them on dramatically, sliding the little arch up the bridge of her nose. “C’est la vie, I’m going to watchThe Devil Wears Pradaten times to make me feel better.”
Those silly sunglasses cover half of her face. Yet there’s something so theatrical about her that amuses me.
“Did you go for a walk that’s why you’re out late?”
“Yeah, I told Mom I’ll be under the building to get some air.” She peers up at me again and I can feel it even with the sunglasses on. “Please don’t tell my mom I failed.”
“I won’t tell her, I promise.” I grin softly. I’m a little concerned about her. If she were my little sister I would’ve wanted to know. “Piper…”
“What?”
How am I going to ask this without sounding like an asshole?
“I… I was wondering if your friends like fashion too.”
“What?” Her nose wrinkles, pushing the sunglasses against her cheeks.
Now I have to lie. “Amber is doing a fashion show for fun in our apartment and wanted to know if you and your friends would like to join?”
With my somewhat believable explanation behind us, she slides the sunglasses atop her head and I’m met with her beaming face.
“Omg, yes!” She squeals. “I would love to.” And steps out of the elevator.
“Great!” I drag my fingers down my neck, now I need to convince Amber. “Do you want to bring some friends?”
“Hmm…” Her gaze drops to the floor and tilts back up to meet my gentle eyes. “Not really.”
“Why?”
“I have two friends but they’re busy all the time.” Her tone is lighter, surgery.
Was that a lie?
“Okay, I’ll tell Amber you’re coming but I’ll ask your mom first, and if she agrees you can come.”
She nods rapidly, already excited. “Yes, thank you. Tell Amber I will bring my stuff as well.”
Passing her, I announce, “I’ll help you get a second chance and ace art class so I need you to think about this—art that gets compliments, and art that draws attention, are two different things.”
“I will, I’ll redo my project.” The warmth in her voice already tells me I did the right thing as I watch her skipping down the hall into her apartment.
