Paper Rings - (J.F.)

Chapter 15

"Yeah . . ."

"Dell, you didn't . . . You didn't really think that meant anything, did you?"

Slowly accentuating each syllable that was gradually shattering Delilah's heart in pieces, his tone came through. He either didn't appear to notice or didn't comprehend how much he was unintentionally hurting her from the inside as her expression changed right before his eyes. She had been so foolish to assume that their kiss signified more than just a spur of the moment affair. She was even more foolish for supposing that perhaps this kiss signified that they might wind up being more than simply best friends.

That was all wishful thinking, of course.

The corners of her mouth tilted up to form a pleasant grin as she swiftly regained her composure, which was undoubtedly the total opposite of how she was actually feeling. "Of course not! I just wanted to check to see if you thought it meant anything. If you did, I was going to be honest with you and tell you that it just wouldn't work out."

"Uh, right."

Delilah approached him a short distance away and teasedly nudged his shoulder with her own. "I find you far too obnoxious to be anything else to me."

He once again had a humorous gleam in his eyes, but his smile remained feeble and he began to express an offended expression. "I'm obnoxious? You sure you're not talking about yourself?"

"Don't you have work to get to?" She crossed her arms, challenging him.

"Well, yeah, you stopped me just as I was about to go there. It proves my point that you're more obnoxious than I am."

He grinned lightheartedly and moved closer to sloppily ruffle her hair that she had spent most of the entire morning perfecting. He had been doing this to her ever since they were little, just like a brother would to his sister. It was a completely innocent gesture. Then, he turned away and finally climbed into his car, speeding off to the country club.

Delilah let him have this one. If she could, she would surrender everything to him. He had already stolen her heart anyway, and had managed to break it in the process. One day a puzzle piece fell from her heart, as if it no longer belonged there.

***

Susannah Fisher had made it her goal to paint each and every one of the teenagers in the house at least once during the span of the summer vacation. So far, she had managed to paint Conrad and Steven. Isabel, Jeremiah and Delilah were next.

It was much like every other day at Cousins today, which was bright and humid. Delilah had just returned from her Debutante session when the older woman tugged her back outside to pose and be painted.

Delilah was facing the canvas as they sat by the pool. She was borrowing Susannah's wedding dress, which just so happened to be readily available, because she had not yet purchased herself a dress for the Debutante ball while Isabel did. Remarkably, the gown fit her nicely. Her hair was also already styled from the morning and tied back into a loose bun. Delilah was just relieved that no one else had the pleasure of witnessing her in this position. Wearing the dress, she had some slight uneasiness.

She was obviously unhappy, but it wasn't because of the dress; rather, it was because of what had happened between her and Jeremiah earlier that day. Susannah, who occasionally tended to pay careful attention, immediately recognized the girl's unrealistic smile.

"Is something wrong, sweetie?" she asked, pausing her brushwork briefly to glance at the girl.

"What makes you say that?"

"You seem a little . . . quiet."

Delilah mustered a weak smile, straightening her posture to appear less downtrodden. "Everything's fine, Susannah. Sorry about that."

"Are you on your period?" But Delilah took a little too long to answer that question and Susannah assumed the worst as her eyes widened slightly. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry. Letting you wear white like that. You must be feeling so uncomfortable."

Delilah rose to her feet as she fervently shook her head. "No, no, it's nothing like that."

Susannah visibly calmed down before an idea popped up in her mind. "Is it Jeremiah? Did he do something-"

"It wasn't anything he did. I promise. I'm just really tired today."

"Debutante stuff got you tired?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Realizing that the girl wouldn't reveal anything more about the situation, Susannah simply shrugged and continued where she left off with the painting, moving each gentle stroke across the canvas and making sure to emphasize each detail on the girl's face.

"Dell, you know . . . Anything that is bothering you, allow it to upset you. It's a good coping mechanism, but keep it from taking over your life to the point where you're entirely submerged in it. If it is one of the boys, please know that they shouldn't be the cause for your unhappiness. I know you aren't telling me something; you're just too easy to read. Even if they are my boys, I am aware that the frustration is not worth it. It's not worth upsetting the beautiful face that I get the pleasure of seeing every day."

Delilah wasn't really sure why she felt the way she did until she saw that her eyes were getting moist and that tears were about to flow. She was unable to believe it. She had made every effort to remain cool and unaffected, but Susannah's words had simply struck a chord. It had triggered a feeling that she had been attempting to suppress for so long. Even after Jeremiah had said what he had said, she had been struggling to control her emotions the entire day and didn't allow herself to cry. She fought crying, even when she felt like completely losing it.

It would be okay, she continued to tell herself. Even when it didn't feel like it.

Even Isabel had asked her during the debutante session if she was feeling alright, having noticed her expression, but she simply shrugged it off, claiming to be tired. She didn't think it would actually be this easy to show emotion.

Despite the fact that Susannah had seen the pale cheeks and watery eyes almost immediately, she was choosing to stay quiet. Perhaps Delilah wasn't planning on sharing her feelings with her, therefore she didn't want to potentially embarrass her.

Then, in a snap, Delilah and Susannah both abruptly stood up, running over to each other and offering a warm hug. Initially a little taken aback, Susannah finally returned it without difficulty. Although she was unsure of what had caused the girl's unexpected breakdown, she would make absolutely sure to be there for the girl.

"Sweetie . . . are you alright?"

Delilah pulled away from the hug, her cheeks streaming with tears.

"Not really . . . But I will be."

And that's all Susannah needed to hear, a sympathetic smile on her face.

After a few hours, the painting was finally finished and dried in the sun before even being hung up. Susannah, who was still seated close to the easel and seemed a little eager to display the painting, was approached by Delilah. She came to a stop directly in front of it, her mouth opening in awe at the exquisiteness of the artwork. Every brushstroke, every color, as well as every element was precisely harmonized, giving the impression of a photograph that had been brought to life rather than a painting made with paint and a brush.

Her eyes moved away from the canvas and over to Susannah. "Think you can teach me to paint like that?"

"It's not easy, but what the hell. Why not?"

Realizing that she needed to change into some more art-friendly clothes, Delilah hurried back inside the beach house and up the stairs while holding the hem of her dress up. When she passed Steven, he merely gave her a look as if to indicate that he didn't even want to know what was going on after noticing how she had been dressed.

"Who are you supposed to be? A runaway bride?"

"Shut up, Steven!"