Page 16 of Rivals

Thanks for that, voice. I don’t need the encouragement.

“I don’t think so,” she rasps. I lift my head and look at her. She’s somewhere else as memories flood her eyes, and I can see her begin to float away. I lean over and touch her elbow. She jumps, and her gaze goes clear again.

“I don’t know if I am, either,” I tell her. She bites her lower lip. They look more pink than they have for a while. It’s almost like the painting brought color to her face.

“I don’t know if I’m capable of being anything else. Nothing else makes sense to me,” she says.

“I tried to do other things, but it didn’t work. It merely put me in a depressive episode that I’ve never totally recovered from. It changed me, made me someone I don’t understand,” I say to her. Revna’s expression is thoughtful and serious as she listens to me.

“I wish I was anything but this. Life would be easier.” I rub my chin, and my skin has begun to cool, but now the hairs rise on my neck, and I feel like there’s a charge. I felt the same thing when we were in the community room at school. There is something here between us, and I don’t know what to make of it.

You will see. This is just the beginning.

I understand that, but it’s because of the paintings, right? Art has a tendency to bring things out of people. We took something to open our eyes for inspiration. That’s all this is.

“Why do you hate me?” I ask her. I know why she bothers me so much, but I’ve always wondered what I did to deserve her wrath.

She sighs and stares at the painting that’s drying. Her eyes bounce around its corners as if it’s dancing in front of her. The watercolors have begun to dry and meld into a liquified abstract mass, but it’s all still separated. The colors all stand on their own. The black edges frame it in.

“Wax. We need wax,” she says and hops off the couch.

“What?” I ask her.

“We need wax to make it glow!” she says, excited. “Do you have any paraffin wax?”

I think for a moment, and surprisingly, I have wax I use for sculpture. It’s used for practice before you do the real thing. You can always melt it down and reuse it.

“Don’t you see it?” she asks. “That’s what we need, and then we—“

“Wait, I think I see it,” I say, drawing my finger around the smudged areas in black. “Here and here, and then drip it like this?” I make a curving line with my finger down the center, and she follows it.

“Yes, that’s… that’s what I saw.” I startle at her words. How would she see that, too? I didn’t say anything until now. That’s weird.

“I think we should melt the wax and then drip it down.” Revna nods, and I get my hot plate and an old pot I’ve used to melt the wax in. Once the hot plate is ready, I put the pot on and let the wax liquefy.

Once it’s mostly melted, I pour the wax from the top with a small metal spoon. With the other hand, I lift the canvas so it directs the cooling wax the way I want it. As the wax cools, it begins to stop dripping, and I add more and continue the process until it reaches the bottom edge of the canvas. I feel like I need to do some more, so I repeat the process until I’m happy with it. Revna follows me with more watercolors, and she lets it bleed to the edges of the wax so it will stop it from going into the other side.

We both step back at the same time and admire our work. We did this together, and I have to admit, I think I’m happy with it. “Is it there yet?” I ask Revna, feeling like it’s not, but it’s close. I find myself wanting her opinion.

She tilts her head and scrunches her eyebrows as she studies the canvas. I sit down on the sofa and relax into the cushion. I have no idea what time it is, but I can feel myself crashing. Revna paces back and forth in front of the easel and mutters to herself.

I close my eyes again and drift off.

Chapter 15

Lachlan

“Lachlan!Lachlan,fire!”Myeyes spring open, and Revna splashes the jar of water onto our painting that ison fire. I run over to the kitchen sink and pull the sprayer from the sink. I lift it, hoping the spray reaches the canvas. Luckily, it only hits the edge where the flames have started. It goes out, and Revna makes a heartbreaking sound.

Our canvas is ruined and we have to start over again. This is going to be a very long weekend. I look at Revna as she stares at the burnt wreckage of what we thought was our masterpiece. My heart thuds in my chest, and I can’t seem to catch my breath.

“What are we going to do!” Revna throws her arms out and glances at me.

“What did you do?” I grit my teeth and stare her down.

“What do you mean what did I do?” She looks at me incredulously. I look her in the eye and search for the lie, but if I’ve learned anything, I know she’s a good liar. She could be saying that to get me to question myself.

I rush her, and she immediately retreats. Her face drops from surprise to anger as I corner her against the exposed brick wall. Her lips part in a gasp and she looks for a way out. I grip her neck, and her hands immediately go for my wrist. I squeeze lightly to make her think twice, and she gasps again.