Art & Soul
Page 23“No. Not if this is just going to turn into last week again. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to deal with...” He gestured toward me as if I was a virus, a plague. “This.”
“I’m keeping it,” I said. Dad gave me a harsh stare, but I couldn’t stand being treated like this any longer. “I’m keeping it and I’m sorry if you hate me, but I’m keeping it.”
Before he could reply—or more likely yell—the front doorbell rang. He hurried off to answer it and the rest of us remained silent. Mike shot me the same dirty look Dad had, Grace tried not to giggle at my so-called life, and KitKat ate corn.
“You really need to think of better times to talk,” Mike said, irritated with my existence.
A few moments later Dad walked back into the dining room, and I was a bit surprised to see Levi walking in behind him. In an instant I was standing. “What are you doing here?”
“Is this the boy?” Dad asked, gesturing toward me. “Did he do this to you?”
“What?!” I hissed, embarrassed and shocked. “No!”
Levi cocked an eyebrow and paused. “I’m sorry, if this is a bad time…”
“What are you doing here?” I asked again.
“Who are you?” Mom said to Levi. I could feel my cheeks heating up. My heart was picking up speed, too. He made me nervous and excited all at once, and even though my mind knew it was a stupid idea to feel this way, my heart didn’t care.
“I’m Levi, ma’am. I’m Kent Myers’ son. I came up here to stay with him for the school year. I’m Aria’s partner.” His accent made him seem so innocent.
“Dadddd!” I screamed, extremely mortified, covering my face.
“I mean, she’s my partner in our art and music class.”
Mom stood up and tried her best to break up the awkwardness. “Sorry, Levi. I think right now is just a bad time.”
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Watson, I really am, but I was hoping I could talk to you really quick.”
“Me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out some papers. “Aria mentioned that you were a doctor, so I was wondering if I could talk to you. I promise it will be fast.”
He held the papers out toward Mom, and she started frowning. She brought him into the living room and they sat on the sofa. They were whispering as all of us watched. Levi’s shoulders sank and he listened to whatever Mom was saying to him. Every now and then he would nod and say, “Yes, ma’am,” but mostly he stared at the carpet, wiping at his eyes.
When they finished, he pushed himself up from the couch and thanked Mom before turning toward the front door and leaving.
I hurried into the living room. “What was that about?” I asked, moving to the window to stare at Levi walking away with his hands stuffed in his jeans and his head down.
“Poor guy.” Mom shook her head, walking back toward the dining room.
As Mom passed by him, tugging on her ear, she turned and said, “Give her a break, Adam. You’re acting like a real jerk.”
He didn’t reply, maybe because he knew it was true.
“What was that about?” I asked Mom, who sat back in her dining room chair and started eating as if nothing strange just happened. My heart was pounding in my chest wondering what she and Levi were talking about.
“It’s a personal thing, Aria. I can’t talk about it.”
“But…” My feet shuffled. I tugged on the hem of my shirt. “Is he okay? Is there something wrong with him?”
Mom gave me her tight smile that told me she wasn’t going to give any more details on the subject. I debated heading over to ask him what was going on, but I knew Dad would freak out if he knew I was leaving to meet up with Levi.
* * *
My alarm clock went off at 5:50 A.M. the next morning. Tossing on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, I stepped into my shoes and climbed out of my window.
The morning air was crisp and chilled. I wandered down the sidewalk to the edge of the forest. I was hoping Levi would be out there, wandering around trying to feed the deer. My stomach flipped when I actually did see him. A part of me was surprised that he standing a few feet away from me, but then again he had said he tried to feed the deer each morning.
He had a handful of berries and was leaned against a tree trunk, but there didn’t seem to be a deer anywhere nearby.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just wondering.”
“Would it make you sad if I were?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Even though we just met?”
“Yes.” Yes. And yes again.
“I’m not sick,” he said. “My dad has cancer.”
I released a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
I didn’t know much about cancer. Simon’s aunt had had it a long time ago, but she had been better for years. All I remembered Simon’s mom saying about it was that cancer sucked the life out of someone and everyone around them. That idea alone was terrifying and sad, and somewhat familiar to me.