Lavender

9

And with that, suddenly I'm ten years old crying again because mommy doesn't have time to help me with my math homework but she has time to yell that I'm helpless.

"Uh—" I sniffle and kneel down to dip the washcloth in the water, walking over to the wall on my knees—"I find it easier to just do things myself. It's faster and in the long run, I'm not disappointed."

"Well, you may not want me to help but I do. So..."

I hear him ringing out the extra water in the sponge and then walking over to the wall next to me.

I focus on the wall trim and wipe the dust and dirt. This house has been empty for a couple of months now. I tried to beg Harper to get it but since she lives quite literally down the street, there was no need. When I imagined someone moving next door, I thought maybe a kid my age. A new friend, or friends with benefits. I got one out of three.

I finish the trims then go to get a sponge. As I squeeze the extra water out, my eyes drift up to Elijah. He's moved onto a different wall now and he lifts his arm to wipe the top. As he's doing so, his black shirt rides up slightly, showing the waistband of his boxers and a bit of his toned back. Holy shit.

I am getting frustrated. Sexually? maybe.

I suddenly remember the guy I'm 'eye-fucking' from behind is the boy I detest the most. If he wasn't always trying to prove he was better than me, perhaps we could've been actual friends. Or maybe I'm the one who tries to prove I'm better...

Either way, he's an asshole and I'm only being nice to him because I'm going to be over for a while.

We finish the last wall together and drop the sponges back in the bucket.

"I'm hungry, I know we both didn't get lunch so I'll run and get something. What are you craving?" Elijah asks me.

"Oh, I'm not hungry." I get back on my knees and pour the paint into the tray.

"I think you're lying. Me, personally, I'm craving noodles. How about Chinese?"

I put the cover on the roller frame and dip it in the paint. "Um, okay. I'll just take some rice, thanks."

"Okay, sure. Be back soon."

He leaves and I notice a speaker in the corner of the room. Music. I smile to myself and pull out my phone to connect it. I put on my favorite; 'Snap Out Of It by Arctic Monkeys'.

I pick up the paint roller sitting in the color and head straight to the wall. I'm thinking of maybe painting one green. I just know for a fact I want to paint a giraffe looking over the crib.

I start bobbing my head and moving my hips to the music. I move the roller up and down, trying to make my streaks as smooth as possible. I get so into the music I use the roller as a microphone and dance with my feet.

The paint is already almost completely covering the wall. My shoulders bop up and down as my hand works their magic.

I hum under the melody and start on the other half of the wall. With music, I can get anything done fast. It's sorta like my way of escaping.

My playlist continues to shuffle and I move onto the second wall. I'm so focused on making my streaks steady, I get scared by the tap on my shoulder.

I turn around in a panic with the paint roller right in front of me. My mouth widens when I realize I just painted the boy who had just bought me food.

"I am so sorry," I try to hide in a laugh behind my hand.

Elijah looks down at his now white-painted shirt and then at me. He softly sighs. "It's alright." He lifts his shirt a bit to wipe his painted chin and I unintentionally look down. Is that... a faint V-line I see?