Kennedy shoots up and gives Aria another hug. “Yeah, that would be great. It’s so good to see you again.”
When Aria leaves without looking at me, I get up, and without excusing myself, I go after her.
I manage to grab hold of her arm outside the restaurant, and when she turns to me, I say, “You knew she was back. That’s why you’ve been weird today.”
Aria pulls her arm free from my hold. “Carla mentioned it this morning.” She shrugs, and when our eyes meet, I see the detached look she inherited from Uncle Mason. “It’s no big deal, right? I’ll see you after class.”
When she walks away from me, worry begins to grip my heart.
Aria’s going to try to pull away from me. I can see it all over her face.
Fuck. Why the hell did Kennedy have to come back now?
Lifting an arm, I push my fingers through my hair.
This is bad, and I have no idea how to fix it.
I glance at the restaurant, then back to where Aria is walking away from me. If she didn’t have a lecture right now, I’d drag her to the suite to talk.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I head back into the restaurant.
Kennedy and Carla are laughing about something when I sit down again.
Kennedy places a hand on my arm as she tries to catch her breath. “Carla just told me about the fear pong you all played on Friday night. I wish I could’ve been there.”
“Yeah.” A smile tugs at my lips. “It was fun.”
Kennedy leans back in the chair and tilts her head as her eyes drift over me. “You’ve changed.”
I frown at her. “How so?”
“You’re no longer the teenage boy I remember,” she admits.
“I would hope not.” I let out a chuckle.
“You look good, Forest,” she whispers, and the moment feels too intimate.
I reach for my phone and tap it on the table. “I need to get going.” I rise to my feet, and not wanting to be rude, I say, “You should have dinner with us tonight.”
“That would be great.”
Kennedy gets up and leans into me, giving me another hug. I only touch her shoulder, not feeling comfortable at all.
When she pulls back, I smile. “Catch you later.” I walk away from her, the smile instantly dropping from my face.
“Fuck!” I hiss as I walk out the doors.
ARIA
Glancing over my shoulder, I see Forest head back into the restaurant. I stop walking and having a clear view of the inside because of the huge bay windows, I watch as he sits down next to Kennedy.
When she places her hand on his arm, another crack splinters through my heart, and tears begin to fill my eyes. I try to blink them away.
Seeing them hug was one hell of a blow that shook my entire world. Having Kennedy sit between us… I can’t even explain how that felt.
I watch as Kennedy and Forest smile at each other. They look… like a couple. Happy… as if they never separated at all.
My chin begins to tremble, and not able to watch anymore, I turn and run toward the art building. A tear slips over my cheek, and I quickly brush it away with the back of my hand.
It feels like someone ripped the ground from beneath me.
Because that’s what Forest is to me – the foundation my entire life is built on.
Walking into the classroom, I go stand by my easel in the back.
I close my eyes and take deep breaths of air, trying to push the hurt down so I can focus on the lesson.
Breathe in…
Just shut down.
Breathe out…
No emotion equals no pain.
Breathe in…
It was only for five days. Forget it ever happened.
Breathe out…
You can go back to being friends.
Breathe in…
Nothing. You feel nothing.
Professor Neel clears his throat, and I open my eyes, still trying to breathe through the pain.
God, this is killing me. I can barely focus on anything but the intense pain of seeing Forest and Kennedy together again.
Professor Neel glances around the class. “Seven days,” he begins, and I do my best to pay attention. “That’s how long you have to create a masterpiece. The GMA in San Francisco is hosting a competition. For those of you who don’t know, it’s the Gallery of Modern Art. It’s mandatory every single one of you enter. It will give you the opportunity to get a feel for the world beyond these doors.”
This is just what I need to keep my mind busy, or I’ll go insane.
Professor Neel’s eyes flit around the room. “The winner will be announced at a cocktail event next Saturday. Trinity Academy and I have gone to great lengths to make this event happen. Do not disappoint me.”
A guy up front asks, “What do we have to paint?”
Professor Neel gives him a scathing look. “If I have to answer that question, it means you’re in the wrong class.”