Saving Sawyer | ✓

Chapter 07 | Only Weirdos Like Mushroom Pizza

Speaking of Graham, it’s been about three weeks now since he transferred from Volcom Prep to Jamestown High. We kind of hang out and talk a lot more now, Graham and I do, I guess. Only during school hours though, of course—we have four classes together, so even if I wanted to just ignore him or something, I really don’t think that I could. Partly because we sit pretty close to each other in the aforementioned four classes and the four teachers that we share are all pretty chill, so they don’t really mind us (and the other students) talking in class. Well, except for Ms. Newman, that is, our ridiculously rude and uptight Theology teacher.

The other part of why I don’t really think that I could just randomly quit talking to Graham is because I actually kind of like him. You know, as a semi-friend and I’m pretty sure that the feeling is mutual. Not that Sienna, Aspen or Piper believe that though and I think that Piper even has Jason in on it now because he kinda teases me about it. I mean, he isn’t as bad as his girlfriend and my friends though. As if that’s not enough, Dr. Fontana seriously thinks that I’m falling for Graham, which definitely is not happening and definitely is not going to happen and it’s just a totally ridiculous suggestion. Graham, for some odd reason, is really amused by all of this ‘Grayer / Grawyer’ talk though and I just don’t see why because I’m just a tiny bit annoyed by it.

“Well, I know it’s hard right now but I’m sure that’ll eventually go away,” Aspen assures me, running her fingers through her hair.

“For you too, you know,” I respond. “You know, with the whole Elliot thing,” I clarify. “It’s not gonna hurt forever,” I reassure my friend.

“This is me not-so-subtly changing the subject,” She tells me, immediately straying from the topic like she always does when Elliot’s mentioned. “What’re you painting?” Aspen queries, standing up from the bed and walking over to me, glancing down at the canvas that I’m almost done with.

“Flynn,” I simply explain, stroking the bristles of the paintbrush in a circular motion as I paint the area around Flynn’s pupils a dirty, dark brown.

“O…kay and why exactly are you painting a picture of Flynn Decker?” Aspen asks, clearly confused and with good reason too.

“Because when I’m done with it, I’m going to go downstairs and throw it in the fire place—watch him burn,” I tell her, finishing the painting.

“So, you painted a picture of the guy that drastically changed your entire outlook on life and now you’re going to go burn it to ashes?” She asks.

“Basically, yeah,” I confirm, closing all of my paints and putting my brushes together while the paint begins to dry.

“Maybe that’s what you and Dr. F should talk about, instead of your relationship with Graham,” She chidingly suggests.

“The very non-existent relationship,” I reply in a singsong voice.

“Acceptance is the first step, my dear,” Aspen tells me then in her very best play therapist tone. “Anywho, there’s a really, really hot guy in your kitchen, who, for some odd reason, isn’t wearing a shirt and I think that he has doughnuts. Powdered doughnuts,” She says and I assume she’s referring to Brett. I’m not saying that he’s hot or anything—it’s not that I think that he’s, you know, ugly or anything, I just don’t necessarily think that he’s hot. Maybe it’s because he’s a blonde—I just think that dark haired boys are a lot more attractive. Granted, Alex Pettyfer looks wonder with blonde hair. But I digress. So, yeah, considering the fact that Brett is always over here now, it’s got to be him because besides him, Beckett is the only other guy that’s ever here and she knows him, so I’m sure she’d refer to him by name and not as ‘a really, really hot guy.’