Don't Say Anything

14. Accidents

I walked into Abstract Painting in one of the best moods I had ever been in. Yesterday, Will took me upstairs and let me use the guest bathroom to shower. It was the first time I had seen any other part of the house and it was just as grand. The floors in the hall were bright white and softer than a baby kitten. The hallway was too long for me to even count the number of doors at a glance. I did notice that the hallway ended abruptly with a curtain and Will said that's where Leah's part of the house starts. There were beautiful paintings on the walls, just like downstairs, and I wondered which famous artist painted each one as I walked by.

The guest room, or one of the guest rooms, was huge with a simple theme of dark red and white. Will brought me a t-shirt and pair of shorts that were Leah's and went in his own room to take a shower. After we were all clean of baking ingredients, we went back downstairs to do more studying/talking. I wanted to see more of the upstairs, but he didn't seem to be in the best mood, so I let it go for the time being. I insisted that we cleaned up some of our mess so Mary didn't have to do all of it, which ended up as me cleaning and him laughing at me getting myself dirty again. I didn't mind though, because he was happy and that makes me happy.

The cake we made wasn't half bad. We got frosting on each other's faces, but it didn't get out of control like the last time. We ate until we were completely full of chocolate and laughed until we couldn't breathe. That was the Will that I love being around, and I hope he stays that way today.

Mrs. Frizzle said our assignment today was splatter paint, so we had to wear these big brown suit-type-things that covered all of our clothing just in case people's aim was off.

"I'm dressed as a piece of shit," I hear Will say from behind me. He's actually right. The suits are pretty much the exact same color as shit.

"I was thinking more like a brown crayon, or a big coffee bean, or-"

"Don't try and sugarcoat it, Rosie."

Mrs. Frizzle yelled at everyone to go back to their easels and "express our emotion through the art of splatter." Will kept trying to fling as much paint as he could onto my canvas and ended up getting more than half of it on me. Although, that might have been his goal the whole time.

"Attention!" Mrs. Frizzle stops everybody mid-splatter and stands on a chair. "I want everyone to write one word in the center of your masterpiece that represents your thoughts while making this painting." I took my thickest black colored brush and wrote my word in the center. I picked up the painting and turned it so Will could read it. I plaster the biggest smile possible on my face hoping to make up for the choice of topic.

'Sunday?'

He hadn't written his word yet, but as soon as he sees mine, he scribbles something on the canvas and turns it around.

'Fuck You.'

He imitates my over exaggerated smile as he holds it up right under his chin. Mrs. Frizzle walks by right as he does so.

"Very good Will. Only, that's two words, not one. Follow directions please."

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"I think I'm Frizzy's favorite student," Will says to me as we walk out of the classroom.

"Oh I'm sure you're every teacher's favorite," I reply sarcastically.

"Keep talking like that and I'll eat the rest of the cake myself when we get back to my house."

"You mean my birthday cake?"

"Yes. I'll eat your whole damn birthd-" he stops in the middle of the empty hall and I look around to see what's wrong.

"I never got you a birthday gift." His face is so serious that I have to laugh.