Page 50 of Unhitched

Chapter thirty-two

Mya

Tapping the birthday card lightly against the newspaper I have spread across the coffee table, gold glitter falls away from the places without adhesive.

It leaves a perfect sparkling border around the “Happy Birthday, Chloe!” I’ve written in bubble letters.

I started it yesterday when we got back from our job and Kace went back to work, and I can’t help but smile at how cute it looks.

“Do you have plans today?” I jolt at the sound of Kace’s voice from behind me, turning from where I’m sitting on the floor.

I set my homemade card off to the side. “Not really. Why?”

He shifts on his feet, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I, uh.” He clears his throat. “I thought we could do something.”

“Okay…” My brows scrunch. “Like what?”

“There’s a Lisa Frank expo in Portland…”

My eyes widen. “For real?!”

He nods .

I hop to my feet, already running through outfit ideas in my mind. “I can’t believe I didn’t know!” I freeze. “Wait. How do you know?”

He shrugs. “Overheard some girls talking about it at Little Conejo.”

“This is incredible!” I pause, my mind reeling as it absorbs the idea. “You want to go with me?” My shoulders deflate when he hesitates. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I know it’s not your kind of thing.”

“No. But seeing you so excited will make it tolerable.”

I bite my lip, my grin widening as I try to ignore the flutters in my stomach. “Okay, just give me five minutes.”

He nods and disappears into his room.

An hour later, we’ve somehow managed to find parking downtown and are walking toward the expo, easily spotted since the walls of the building have been temporarily painted with vibrant rainbow stripes.

The moment we’re through the front door, we’re blinded by neon colors in every direction and my mind races to take it all in.

A hallway to the right leads toward what looks like a room full of paintings.

To the left is a larger-than-life classic Lisa Frank tiger that has been turned into a kid’s jungle gym.

There’s a square mat on the floor in front of us that must be at least ten feet in both directions. It’s a partially colored-in underwater mural, scattered with markers, kids and adults coloring in different parts of the seal, fish and coral.

I glance over my shoulder to gauge where Kace is at–physically and mentally. His eyes are wide, and I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re regretting this already, aren’t you?” He looks so out of place in his black jeans and bomber jacket surrounded by more color than I’ve ever seen in my life.

I expect him to say yes . Or at the very least groan in protest of being here. Maybe even ask to wait in the car. Instead, he surprises me with an outstretched arm. “Lead the way. ”

I’m tempted to grab and drag him around the place, but I keep my hands to myself. We veer right, heading down a makeshift hallway that I have a feeling wraps around the outer edge of the expo. To our left, black curtains trap us in, and the right wall is lined with paintings in glass frames.

I take in each one, noting they are the original airbrushed art from the 70s and 80s.

A pegasus. Hamburgers in space, flying around with Blow Pops, gumdrops and ice cream cones.

A frog decked out in princess jewelry. A candy railway.

Each one is unique and far more vibrant than you’d expect for art that’s nearly half a century old.

When I glance at Kace, I find him taking in the art as much as I am. I stare until he catches me. His brows furrow. “What?”

I shake my head, once again surprised by this man.

“Nothing.” I grin, turning away from him and walking toward the next exhibit.

The hallway of paintings leads to a dark room–three black walls with the fourth being some sort of screen split horizontally.

The top features a sky view, and the bottom is an underwater one.

Chaotic and colorful animals fly across the top, while others swim in the bottom.

A table sits in the middle of the room, low enough that you have to sit on the floor to use it.

Scattered across it are coloring sheets, with outlines of different Lisa Frank creatures.

Scanning the room, I plop down, sitting criss-cross, to figure out what it’s all about.

It appears that you can color an animal, place it in a scanner, and then it’s imported into the scene.

They bring your art to life. How cool.

I jump when Kace takes a seat next to me, my brows arching when he reaches for a piece of paper with a dolphin and a blue crayon.

I pick one with a hummingbird and line up a pink, purple, blue and yellow crayon in front of me.

We color for a few minutes with only the excited chatter of other people around us.

A kid sits next to Kace with zero respect for his personal bubble, and without hesitation, Kace scoots closer to me.

He’s sitting cross-legged too, and by the time he stops moving, his thigh overlaps mine.

The heat of his body seeps through the tie-dye leggings I’ve paired with a pink cropped hoodie.

I freeze, my yellow crayon tip pressed into the paper, afraid to move–or breathe.

His touch is like Pringles. Once I have a taste, I can’t help but want more.

Ignoring the heat rushing through me, I drag the crayon across the paper, the yellow wax clumping a bit and making the shading of my bird uneven.

A few minutes later, we’re both finished with our art.

Mine is a colorful explosion that I know Lisa would be proud of.

Kace’s coloring matches what I’d expect from him–a typical blue dolphin, perfectly colored.

I am surprised by the darker blue line he’s drawn around the edge. My sister used to draw that way.

We place our pictures in the scanner, and step aside, directing our gaze toward the screen. At the same moment, my hummingbird flies into the scene and Kace’s dolphin appears to leap from the water. My mouth falls open. It’s magic.

When I turn toward Kace, he’s staring at me. I swear his gaze flashes to my lips, but I must be mistaken. It’s dark in here, and he’s made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t want me like that.

The crease in his brow deepens. “What’s wrong?” he asks, and my focus zones in on him, with the moving colors to my left barely invading my periphery.

I survey my body language, realizing my shoulders have slumped, and my earlier excitement has popped like Bubble Yum. I’m sad Kace doesn’t want to be with me. It sucks that I want this to be so much more because I want to do all these things as his girlfriend–not as his friend.

Then it occurs to me that if I do things like this with him, it’ll take away from the valuable time I have to find someone to settle down with–someone who actually wants to be with me before it’s too late.

“Mya?” He reaches his hands toward my arms but drops them at the last minute .

I let my gaze search his before shaking my head to clear my thoughts. “Hmm?”

“Are you okay?”

I take a breath, then brush off his concern with a wave of my hand. “Oh yeah. I’m great. This place is hella cool.” I look back to where my animated bird is flapping its rainbow wings. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Yeah.” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “No problem.”

“Should we get going to see the rest?”

He nods toward the door, letting me lead the way.