Page 10 of Quiet
The next morning, Briar was pulled from sleep by a very vivid, very persistent dream. It wasn’t the content that captivated him so much as the overriding flavor of the dream. He knew from long experience that the dream wouldn’t allow him to put it down and start his day until he got it out of his head and onto paper.
He opened the top drawer of his nightstand and pulled out the first sketchbook he found, then put it back—he needed thicker paper for the texture he was looking for.
After finding the right paper, he left the drawer hanging open and propped his sketchpad on one knee.
Sometime later, a cup appeared between him and his sketchpad. He took it and set it down. It appeared again. Once more he took it and set it down.
“It’ll never get inside you if you keep putting it in the nightstand,” Alex’s cheerful drawl scratched against Briar’s concentration.
Once again, the cup entered his field of vision. This time closer to his face. Briar shifted until he was able to pin the corner of his sketchbook under one foot, so he had a free hand to take the cup.
“You’re going to get charcoal all over your bed.”
That’s what the black sheets are for. And black clothes, and his black backpack—basically anything Briar owned that was likely to come into contact with his favorite medium was black. If his hair wasn’t already black, he would consider dying it.
“Now that it’s in your hand, you have to drink it.” The bed sank under Alex’s weight. “Please don’t make me feed you. I can barely manage myself.”
Briar put the straw in his mouth. There was a burst of pineapple and banana that was a hit to his senses, but it faded into the background like everything else.
Finished. Well, the image wasn’t finished with him, but the paper and charcoal had given him everything they were capable of. He might need a different medium.
Briar looked up and Alex was no longer in the room. There was a post-it on his knee that said,If you don’t text me by 10:30, I’ll tell the professor you’re sick.
Briar’s professors all knew he wasn’t sick when his friends covered for him, but since he always got the work done, they didn’t bother him about his consistent absences. Well, the art teachers didn’t. He was definitely going to fail Geology this semester. Again.
He looked at his phone and saw it was eleven o’clock. It was too late to go to Art History, so he decided to take a shower. There was charcoal everywhere.
Briar didn’t glance back at the set of vivid starlight eyes staring out of the sketchbook he’d been glued to since he woke up. There was something the image was missing—somethinghewas missing—and the answer wasn’t going to be found by hunching over a notebook all day. He was going to have to go out and find it.
Chapter5
Isa
To say Isa wasn’t nervous about modeling today would be a total lie—especially considering there was a very real chance he was going to have to get naked in front of near-strangers.
So being punctual wasn’t high on his list at the moment.
That was probably why he’d found himself sitting next to the pond, wrapping a bit of gauze around the leg of a duck.
He’d noticed it walking oddly when he passed the flock and couldn’t stop himself from investigating.
“No, hold still, I’ll be done in a second,” he told the duck as it flapped its wings in an attempt to get away.
Isa should really text the artists to tell them he was going to be late. Once he treated the duck’s wound, he’d have to find somewhere to put it for the afternoon. If he left it alone, the bandage could get caught on something, and the poor duck would be stuck until someone took pity on it.
Just as he was pondering his options, someone crouched down next to him. Isa looked up from the duck to find Briar kneeling in the grass with his knee bumping against Isa’s.
“Need help?” Briar signed.
“Know where I can get a cage and some duck food on short notice?”
Briar traced a thumb over his plush lower lip thoughtfully. Then he nodded and signed, “Wait here.”
Isa did his best to keep the duck occupied, sacrificing the rest of his lunch and a shirt sleeve until Briar returned with a small cage filled with hay.
“How on earth did you find this?”
Briar shrugged and knelt down so he could put the cage next to the duck. Isa tried to get the duck inside, but it didn’t want to go. Soon the sounds of quacking filled the area, drawing the attention of everyone passing by. One by one, people joined in, offering suggestions on how to get the duck into the cage, asking why the duck needed to be in the cage, and in general, getting in the way.
