Page 56 of Paint Our Song

Calvin spreads his right palm wide, resting the back of it against the table. He studies it in a thoughtful way as he bends his fingers. “My hands suck. All rough and ugly from all the guitar playing. See? The tips of my fingers are all calloused.”

“They don’t look bad.”

“They feel bad.” Calvin brushes his fingers against Miles’s arm, and Miles jolts not because of how rough they are—he doesn’t even feel the roughness—but because of how cold his hand is and also because he wasn’t expecting the way they leave goosebumps on his skin.

“Are you cold?” Miles asks.

“A bit.”

He resists the urge to take his hands and warm them up.

Miles chews on his cheek and hopes that Calvin doesn’t notice the strange shift in his mood. Trying to convince himself to think of other things, Miles holds his own hand up to the light. “I have this weird bump on my finger because of my drawing. I didn’t even know it was unusual until my university friends talked about it. It’s from using a pencil all the time, I think.”

“Where?”

Miles holds his hand closer to Calvin and points at a bump on the side of his middle finger, just below his nail. He doesn’t miss how Calvin makes a move that seems like he’s going to touch it, but then he stops himself and puts his hand on his lap instead. Miles may be a scatterbrain, but reading people comes easy to him, and lately he’s even been able to read Calvin better. A thought simmers in the back of his head, saying that Calvin might want to touch him too, that maybe he’s afraid of making the first move as much as Miles is.

You can touch me again,Miles wants to say.

He’s let a very big opportune moment pass, and Miles can’t take it, though he gets another opening when Calvin zips up his jacket. Calvin rubs his hands together and mumbles that he should haveworn thicker clothes.

Miles, as casually as he can, pushes his chair against Calvin’s and gestures for his hands. He gets a puzzled look in return.

“Give me your hands,” he says.

For a while, Calvin hesitates. It surprises Miles too when he actually does give them, and Miles holds them between his and rubs. He’s always run hot, and it doesn’t take long for Calvin’s hands to heat up, too, underneath his warm palms. Miles doesn’t dare look up at him, too scared to see what expression’s laid out on his face.

“They’re not so rough,” Miles says, after he’s rubbed Calvin’s hands warm. He’s still not letting go though, and trails his thumb against the tips of Calvin’s fingers. They twitch under his touch, but Calvin’s not pulling away, so Miles doesn’t stop. He trails his fingers against Calvin’s palm too, then on his knuckles, and Calvin sucks in a breath.

Calvin’s quiet, and when Miles finally looks up at him, he’s staring at Miles with an intensity he hasn’t seen before.

“You’ve been drawing all your life,” Calvin says, which catches him off-guard. He’s still letting Miles explore his hands, so he doesn’t stop.

It’s a statement, not a question, but Miles nods all the same. “I think my dad would have preferred if I was more into business, though.”

Surprisingly, Calvin shakes his head. “Your mom actually mentioned that you feel that way. She said you couldn’t be more wrong.”

He blushes. “Jesus, seriously, how long were you talking? What else did she expose about me?”

“That you listened to our debut song to get out of a slump.”

“Oh mygod,Ma!”

“I assumed she was only saying that to be nice to me, though.”

Somewhere along the conversation, they both turn toward each and sit much closer than before. Miles bows his head and Calvin’s hands are still in his. He’s strangely fascinated by his hands and he continues to touch them, trailing his own fingers against the lines on his palm and in-between his knuckles.

“I have a weird confession,” Miles says, voice soft.

“What?”

He can’t believe he’s actually going to say this to Calvin, of all people. He exhales and then says, “My mom wasn’t only saying that to be nice. Back in university, I was going to drop out because I… I don’t know. I didn’t have any drive. I didn’t want to do anything. I’d try to draw literally anything, and I’d hate it. It was right after my dad died. I didn’t know how to function at all. Nothing made sense. This is really dramatic. I’m sorry.”

“Go on.”

He’s sure his face is burning, and he can’t look at Calvin right now. “It’s about when Derrick got in touch with me to do your album cover.”

“I think he mentioned you ignored him the first few times.”