Page 15 of Quiet
You’re great at talking, it’s your thing. Now, do what you always do and forget about body parts and the fun things they can do together.
“Nice night, huh?” He gestured to the cloudy, starless sky. Smooth, Isa.
“No.”
If Briar was going to talk back, Isa was going to have to abort the whole talking thing. Every time he did, it sent a zing of electricity through Isa’s nervous system.
“I just realized I have no idea what you guys are working on. I’m guessing it’s not a nature scene since you have a human model.” Briar opened his mouth, and Isa said quickly, “No, don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re doing a group project, so I’m guessing it’s something big. Wait, are you the ones who were chosen to do the centerpiece for the exhibit?”
Briar nodded.
“That’s super heckin’ cool! Congratulations!” Now that Isa got going, he sank into an easy chatter. “If I remember correctly, the theme this year is Italian renaissance . . .” Isa stroked his chin, thoughtfully.
While they were drawing Isa, Bea and Alex had explained the dynamic of their group. Bea was the big picture person, she was good at composition, coordination, and tying things together while Alex was better at detail work. Briar was good at using every medium in existence, apparently, but wasn’t great at group work or structure. He was used to choosing what he wanted to work on and then vanishing into the project until it was done.
Which meant there was a good chance Briar had chosen what they were doing, and if he had trouble working on assigned projects, he’d pick a style that gave him as much flexibility as he could get.
“Contemporary . . .Birth of Venus.” He’d pulled the last part out of the air.
The duck quacked in alarm as Briar fumbled with the cage. He shot Isa a look and nodded curtly.
“Are you kidding me? I got it right on the first try? Go me!” Isa punched a fist into the air and did a little spin. Then he realized something painfully obvious. “Wait, I’m supposed to be Venus?”
He had a mental image of his father, the rigid Baptist preacher, finding out his only son would be modeling for a painting of a ‘false’ god. A female one, no less.
He loved it while simultaneously praying the man would never, ever find out.
“I’m flattered, I guess?”
They’d reached Isa’s building and he held out his hand for the cage. “This is my stop.”
Briar pulled the cage out of Isa’s reach and pointed up.
“You want to see my room? Okay, it’s not much to look at, but I don’t mind.”
He led Briar to the third floor where Isa had the privilege of his very own corner room. It was more spacious than a regular single, which meant he had enough room to stash the injured animals he found from time to time.
“You can put him down right here,” Isa pointed to a spot by his bed. It would be noisy, but, while Isa usually had trouble getting to sleep at night, once he was there, Isa slept like the dead. If the duck needed help during the night, he’d practically need to be in the bed with Isa for him to even notice.
It was both a blessing and a curse. Since Isa kept odd hours, he was constantly dozing off during the day—usually at the theater where it was always noisy. It was nice to be able to sleep through the commotion theater kids made.
It was less nice that he also slept through all the pranks they played on him. He’d woken up with blue hair right before he’d had to go home for Christmas and had to race to the store to buy brown dye to cover it. It had only grown out enough for him to cut off the wretched muddy shade two weeks ago.
He ran a hand through his short locks. He’d been told his new cut was adorable.
Did Briar like adorable?
Chapter7
Briar
What exactly did unavailable mean?
All Briar knew was that the phrase kept popping into his head at the oddest moments. And Isa had said it twice now.
The duck did something to make the cage rattle, drawing Briar’s attention away from thePhantom of the Operaposter he’d been inspecting.
Isa was crooning to the duck in a low voice, telling it how pretty it was.
