“Did you draw that?” Nicole asked.
I held the paper against my chest so she couldn’t see any more of it, but apparently she already had seen enough to understand. I felt as if I wanted to retch.
“Is that a picture of me?” she asked. Her eyes were soft as she looked at me, and I could feel any resolve I might have had, along with my better judgment, crumbling. “Let me see it.”
I handed her the paper.
“It’s not done yet,” I said quietly.
She looked from the paper to me, back to the paper, and then back to me again.
“Thomas…this is…” She stopped and looked at the picture again. “This is incredible.”
“It’s only on notebook paper,” I pointed out, “and I didn’t have the right kind of pencil, and the shading isn’t right yet, and—”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. She leaned closer to me and tilted her head to the side at an awkward angle to get to where I was. She looked into my eyes before she slowly moved in and touched my mouth with hers. It was much too quick, as far as I was concerned, but even with its brevity, all the anger I had felt toward her evaporated.
I moved my hand up and cupped her face, bringing her back to me. I kissed her lips again and then kissed along her jaw.
“I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,” I quoted, “for I am much ashamed of my exchange.”
I felt her mouth turn up in a smile, and I pulled back to look at her again, glad to see she was more relaxed. As I looked at her, I couldn’t even understand why I had been so mad. Maybe it was just because she was leaving, and I didn’t want her to go.
“You’re beautiful,” I told her.
Her smile became more genuine and less sad.
“Did you eat anything for dinner?” she asked, and I was grateful for the topic change.
“Nah, I kind of fell asleep instead. It’s getting late though.”
“I brought your car back,” she said.
“I kind of figured.”
“I’m sorry I ran off on you,” she said. So much for topic changes. She fiddled with the edge of my shirt, and apparently she figured out she had switched the subject back as well, so she changed it again. “Want me to make you something?”
And she said I was going to make her head explode.
“There isn’t anything here to make,” I reminded her.
“Maybe I’ll take you grocery shopping.” She smiled at me, and I rolled myself up to a sitting position. I thought about what my dad would think if he saw in the refrigerator a bunch of fresh vegetables neither of us could even name.
“I think that would spawn a few too many questions,” I said.
“I guess so,” she admitted, and she sounded defeated. She also looked really tired all of a sudden.
“It’s getting late,” I said. “We have school tomorrow, too. I’ll take you home.”
“You still need to eat.”
“I’ll find something when I get back.”
“I’m not leaving you here by yourself without anything decent to eat for dinner,” Nicole said. “So just get your overnight bag repacked. It will make it easier for you to take me to school tomorrow.”
Who was I to argue?
Long before Sherlock Holmes, Shakespeare’s Henry V said, “The game is afoot.” Somehow, when it came to having a real relationship with Nicole, I had the feeling I was playing with chess pieces on a monopoly board.