The Artist | #3✓

Chapter 15

The next day was awkward. Toby didn't say much, and I didn't want to probe him. We went about our businesses separately, and the atmosphere had never felt so thick. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn't know how.

During the last few hours of the school day, Toby had classes, while I used my free time to sketch. I drew messy doodles on my drawing pad, not having anything specific in mind as I did them. The painting I'd done of Toby was nowhere in sight, and I wondered if he'd taken it home with him yesterday. I let out a small sigh when I ran out of space to doodle before flipping to the next page. I was worried, and drawing was one of the few ways I could relieve stress.

At the end of the school day, I noticed Toby packing up before getting up and leaving the art room in a rush. I packed up my stuff as fast as I could, before running after him when I realized he was trying to avoid talking to me.

"Wait!" I called out when we both walked out the school's main doors, and into the courtyard. Toby turned, his frown turning into a wide-eyed look. He might not have noticed that I'd been following him.

"Wait..." I trailed again as I stopped in front of him, bending over with my backpack to catch my breath. I wasn't a runner, and I didn't exercise in general. I stayed like that for a while, catching my breath as Toby just stood in front of me. I eventually stood up straight to look at him in the eyes. They weren't red, but they had dark circles and bags under them.

"What do you want?" he asked in a firm voice that made me look away from him. He sounded irritated by my presence, and the little courage I'd mustered while I followed him was escaping through my pores. Maybe he didn't mean it that way, maybe I was just being overly paranoid as usual.

I bit my bottom lip, running a hand through my hair before speaking up. "I just wanted to check up on you. How are you?" I asked, looking back up at him.

"Fine." He shrugged, tightening his hold on his bag as he let out a sigh. We stood there in the school compound, looking at each other as the birds in the nearby tree sung and made the branches and leaves rustle by jumping about.

"Maybe you should come to my car," Toby said, and I turned, looking to see that students leaving the building were staring at us. I was sure we looked out of place just standing and saying nothing to each other.

"Okay," I muttered, watching as Toby gave me one of those his forced smiles before leading the way. I followed him to the parking lot for teachers, before climbing into the passenger seat of his red car. He turned on the engine before turning on the air conditioning. He then put on one of those his instrumental music pieces he liked to listen to.

"So," he started, making me turn towards him. "What do you want to know? You said you wanted to check up on me, isn't that right?

I nodded, looking away from him before looking out the window beside me for a bit. "I just wanted to know if you were doing okay — emotionally, that is," I said, turning back to him. Toby looked like he was deep in thought with his fixed frown and thin-lipped expression.

"I'm fine," he eventually muttered. His words came out choked, like he was unsure of them. "I'm not as stable as I used to be, but I'm fine," he insisted as he sighed. I watched him cover his eyes with a palm as I was left to wonder what he was thinking about it. Toby was struggling, that I could tell — but I didn't know how to help, really, and knowing all I could do was sit back and hope he eventually talked about what was bothering him killed me inside.

"I want to ask you a question."

"Hmm," I murmured, watching as he removed his palm from his eyes.

"What do you mean when you say you love me?" he asked, making my face flush. I looked away from him, trying to collect my thoughts to give a good enough answer.