Page 57 of No Strings

“There was a girl in my year at our school, Dorothy. She was amazing.” I think she got one of her pieces in a gallery.

Rhys, not being able to let it go. “Learn to take a compliment.”

“Learn to shut the fuck up.”

“Say, yes Davis, I can draw and I’m pretty good.”

“No.” I wish he would fucking drop it.

“Say it.”

I don’t reply, I just glare at him. Davis and Beau’s eyes bounce between the two of us. I bet Davis regrets asking now.

“Have some confidence.”

“Drop fucking dead.” I snap back.

“Only in your dreams.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, you do.”

The cocky asshole smirks at me, “So, you dream about me?”

I hate him. “Nightmares, more like it.” I cross my arms finishing this conversation.

Beau butts in, “Well, you two are a delight to be around.”

An awkward silence settles over us.

I get up, but Rhys, naturally, has an opinion. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a walk.” I say as if it isn’t obvious.

But before I can take a step Rhys is telling me what I can and can’t do. Again. “No, you’re not.”

“You can’t keep telling me what to do,”

“In this case I can. You don’t know the area, it’s on dusk, and you’ve almost stepped on a snake once today. So, no.”

“I’ll go with her.” Davis stands and walks with me. I notice he grabs my sketchpad as well. But I don’t say anything, I kind of want to see what he has to say.

Beau catches Davis’s wrist. “I already had to repatch you today, want to think on it?”

“Patch me up again then.” Davis winks at him, and I think that’s the most emotion I have seen him give.

We don’t go terribly far.

We find some picnic tables, and sit either side, facing each other. Davis passes me my book, “Show me?”

“Why?”

“My sister used to draw, and I miss her showing them off.”

I don’t miss that he said used to.

I open to the first page and turn to show him. It’s the first one I drew when I got up here. Again, I don’t say anything. I just flick through the pages. The last one isn’t finished. It’s just a Banksia; you’d think that would be easy. But it has lots of bristles and texture.

“Rhys is right. You’re good.”