The Heart That's Meant to Love You

Chapter 67: Competition

Sadly, Claire had taken the day off from school, for whatever random reason. Naomi had been looking forward to spending the last few art classes with her one true friend. Apparently, life couldn't let her catch a break after Kieran ditched her.

He had been on campus to teach days after, as if it didn't faze him at all. Naomi's chest ached to think that she was the only one affected by their brief kiss and all that came after.

It had been her first kiss.

For the first time in her life, she had been prepared to let go of her defenses.

Turned out, Naomi should have known better. Every time she let go of her defenses, bad things happened. Yet, she still couldn't hate him. She had tried for days.

"Will you leave him behind as he asked, or will you take matters into your own hands this time?" Michelle's question paddled around to the forefront of Naomi's mind again.

How was she supposed to choose? Neither would be easy for her. Both would have their own set of consequences.

Naomi didn't realize how deeply she had been engrossed in her own thoughts until Ms. VanCamp stepped between her and the door.

"Ms. Rowe." Ms. VanCamp clasped her hands in front of her, the picture of composure.

Exactly the opposite of how Naomi felt. "Yes?"

"Speak with me for a moment."

Exhausted and world-weary, Naomi's sarcasm shot out of her mouth unbidden. "Isn't that what we're doing right now?"

"Ms. Rowe." Ms. VanCamp's gaze lowered in reprimand. "I believe you understood what I meant."

"Yes, ma'am," Naomi acquiesced. "What is this about?"

"Come with me."

Naomi didn't strictly want to go anywhere with anyone, but she couldn't say no to her teacher. Especially when they only traveled six steps to the desk at the front of the room.

"I know you're not an art student, but you've always been extremely talented."

Okay, so maybe not bad news per se. Naomi wasn't quite sure what she had been pulled aside for, but at least she wasn't flunking her elective class.

"I've never done this before, but I was asked to recommend a student to the Masterson Pinnacle of Arts Competition." Ms. VanCamp pulled a brochure from her desk and held it out toward Naomi. "I recommended you."

"But I'm not an art student," Naomi retaliated immediately, the reaction ingrained into her very soul.

Ms. VanCamp nodded. "I already said that I know that."

"Then why..."

"Your talent and expression far exceeds the majority of my art students, Naomi." Ms. VanCamp shook the brochure. "It's just a nomination, but I have high hopes for your placement."

"I didn't come to study art," Naomi reiterated.

Ms. VanCamp grinned, stood, and placed the brochure in Naomi's hands. "Perhaps you did not come here to learn it, but you very well may be called to it. Your pieces are...exquisite."

"They're just pieces of my mind." Naomi's fingers clenched around the brochure as if they belonged there. "I never meant to catch attention."

"Naomi, dear, that's exactly how art should be. It should be a natural extension of what you feel inside." Ms. VanCamp released the brochure to Naomi's hold. "I will let you know when I have the results."

Naomi nodded, because she couldn't do anything else. Her limbs felt numb, frozen. Her brain whirred with the information given to her. Talented? Called? Naomi had never experienced the thrill of either of those compliments. Could it be that the Grand Plan had never been the path she had been meant to walk?

"Take a look at the brochure to see what the competition is, if you want." Ms. VanCamp waved a hand to dismiss Naomi. "That's all."

Without a word, Naomi turned and left.

An art competition? The thought had never crossed her mind. Naomi loved creating art, but she had never considered that others might like the art she created. She had always been too focused on the business and political aspirations her mother had set before her. To suddenly find herself in this position... the whiplash had her reeling.

"You seem distracted," Oliver's voice belted into Naomi's left ear.

She shied away in a subconscious reaction to the noise. "Oliver? What are you doing here?"

"You look like you could use a distraction to distract you from being distracted. Want me to help?"

"You didn't answer my question," Naomi shot back.

Oliver shrugged. "Isn't it normal for me to come pick you up?"

"Not really."

"I mean, what are you going to tell your mom if you go missing? I'm covering your butt so often nowadays."

The truth, Naomi knew. Oliver had covered for her after every one of her rebellious mishaps. She probably owed him several favors for that, but she hadn't exactly asked for his help.

"Since you're rebelling so often these days, wanna make it worse?" Oliver grinned like he had the biggest secret in the world.

"Go back to your perfect little life." Kieran had insisted, and for some reason that made Naomi want to do the exact opposite. Her perfect little life had been boring. Suffocating. A prison.

Naomi looked up at Oliver. "Make it worse how?"

"Some of my colleagues are throwing a party this weekend. What about coming along with me?"

Parties had never seemed like Naomi's speed, but neither had retreats. She had enjoyed going out with friends. Oliver's acquaintances couldn't be so terrible. And Oliver had a point: Naomi did need a distraction from her distractedness.

"Mother will never agree to letting me go to a party."

"She will if I'm the one you're going with." Oliver's grin widened. "So what do you say? Trust me? See where it goes?"

Naomi weighed her options and found that Oliver was right about one thing. Her mother never said no to Oliver's suggestions. As if Oliver fit somewhere in that grand plan of hers.

"Fine, but you have to tell her yourself," Naomi relented.

Oliver slung an arm around Naomi's shoulders to guide her toward his car. "Don't worry, Naomi. I've got lots of tricks up my sleeve."