Playing His Games

1.

It was a very tall man, with dark curly hair on his head. Suddenly, the intoxicating smell returned to my nose as I drank him in. His were a hundred different shades of golden brown. It almost made me dizzy staring into them.

My lips parted slightly as I gasped, my heart beat racing. What is happening to me? Who is he? Why is he staring at me like that?

"Can I h-help you?" I cursed myself for stuttering in front of this gorgeous, intimidating man. He easily stood a foot above me.

His mouth opened, like he was going to say something. Then, it snapped shut. His eyebrows furrowed like he was confused. Maybe he was lost. Suddenly, he turned and walked away. His smell lingered. I sat and took a deep breath.

"Hey, you ready?" I looked up, and this time it was Isaiah standing in the doorway, his hand on the frame. He was breathless and sweaty.

I shook my head, trying to shake what just happened. I'm not even sure I know what just happened.

"Uh, yeah. Just let me clean up." I said and he nodded. He got on his phone and sat on a chair at one of the tables.

I grabbed all of my things and took it to the back counter. I poured out the water containers and ran the water down the sink. I put the water colors away and dropped the brushes in the sink to rinse them out. I put the pencil and the sharpie back and then put the brushes in a cup to dry.

When I was almost done, I felt Isaiah come up next to me and look down at my sheet. His shoulder bumped up against mine as he smiled down at it.

"You're amazing, you know that? The best artist I know." He smiled at me and I shook my head.

"Let's just go, yeah?" I asked and he nodded. I grabbed my bag and followed him out of the room. As we were walking towards the door, I saw him again.

He was standing in Mr. Mutz's old classroom, in the doorway. I looked back at him and for some reason, my whole body felt lighter. I felt calm and warm. His beautiful eyes stared into mine. Then, he looked at Isaiah and his eyes grew dark as his jaw clenched. Did he know Isaiah?

Then, he looked back at me again and his features softened. Something about the way he looked at me, the way he smelled, everything about him made me feel weird. I don't know how to explain it.

I turned back around and followed Isaiah out to his car. I'd had enough confusion for one day. I got in the passenger side as Isaiah pulled off.

"Anyone give you any trouble today?" Isaiah's voice came from the other side of the car. I shook my head, blatantly lying to him. I didn't want to bother him. He was like an overprotective brother.

"No, it was fine." I told him, though he probably knew better. But he didn't push. He didn't ask again. "How was practice?"

"Ugh, we had to do killers." He groaned and I laughed. Reasons why I hate sports... conditioning.

"Lucky you." I replied sarcastically, laughing.

"Are you coming tonight?" He asked and I turned to look at him. His eyebrows were raised expectantly.

"Yeah, I just have to ask Grace, but I'm sure she'll let me." I shrugged and he smiled. He nodded, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Cool, I'm excited. I think you'll love this one." He said and I turned my head towards him fully, arching a brow.

"When don't I, my little guitarist." I reached my hand over and ruffled his hair a bit. He frowned, swatting at my hands.

"Hey, stop it. Don't mess with the hair." He pulled away, holding his hands up like he would karate chop me at any second.