Every Happy Family by Dede Crane Page B

thanks.
    Her head shape feels like a rounded-off square and he can’t stop picturing Hello Kitty. She scratches her scalp, pushing aside his hand. He waits until she’s finished. Her hair is almost as short as his except for a silky curtain of bangs that hangs just past her eyebrows. Pema has the same bangs except that the rest of her hair hangs to her waist. His thoughts return to Satomi as her head pivots left. Though she was crazy focused when doing the touching, now she won’t stop fidgeting. She turns her head right. She shivers. Then sucks her teeth – at least that’s what it sounds like – making it impossible to concentrate. Sure, he’s no artist like her, but he can’t afford to blow the assignment either and she knows that. Any mark below a C+ puts him on the bench. She scratches her cheek, knocking his hand. He feels dismissed, even disliked, and that whatever connection they made two days ago was in his mind only.
    Satomi sighs as if waiting for him to get on with it which makes him even more pissed off. Doesn’t his touch feel good to her ? She starts to turn her head and he stops her, forces it forward and holds it still. Her face sandwiched between his hands, he waits for her reaction. She doesn’t resist, doesn’t say anything, but then, slowly and with deliberation, she starts to turn her head again, forcing it against his hands. He forces it straight again.
    â€œI’m stronger than you, remember?” he whispers and feels her smile before all her resistance seems to disappear. “Okay,” he says with a nod.
    Except for a small rough patch on either cheek, her skin is ridiculously soft.
    When he touches her ears she makes them wiggle ever so slightly.
    â€œTalent,” he whispers.
    She wrinkles her nose and somehow stresses it the tiniest bit to cause it to vibrate.
    He knows she’ll bite him when he comes to her lips, and she does. It hurts but he doesn’t let on, just leaves his finger there until her teeth give up and release him.
    Nearly finished, he cups her chin with both hands just like she did to him. When he hears the teacher speaking to someone on the far side of the room he leans over and, teasingly soft and brief, kisses her lips. And she, who would have seen it coming, doesn’t stop him. As soon as he pulls away, she slips from his hands with a screech of chair wheels along the floor.
    He yanks down his blindfold to see Satomi slumped in her chair, arms crossed, eyes down, knees bouncing against each other under her tartan skirt. He can’t tell if she’s furious or about to cry. He runs a hand through his hair, thinking how to explain himself. Why did he do it?
    When he starts to apologize, she wrinkles her nose to its vibrating point and flashes a tiny smile. He laughs to himself, you win, and drops back in his chair.
    His portrait of her looks like a cross between an alien and a panda bear. Hello Kitty, in other words, if Hello Kitty wasn’t a kitty. When Satomi turns in her chair and sees it, she bursts out laughing, which prompts an invitation up to Ms. Jameson’s desk. While Satomi gets in trouble, he checks out her self-portrait; an arty, exaggerated likeness with oversized features as if she’s making fun of herself. The inflated lips have a light shining on their centre. He scoots over in his chair and takes a closer look. The light’s in the shape of puckered lips. His kiss?
    Satomi is now walking towards him and he wheels back to his easel. She comes and stands beside his chair.
    â€œI want to apologize for laughing at your picture of me,” she says, unapologetic, then whispers, “You are free to whip me.”
    â€œHmm... Start with a walk after dinner?”
    She covers her mouth to keep from laughing aloud again. “But Beautiful,” she whispers, “fish don’t walk.”
    â€œWe could go to the pond?”

    â€œSo what does Sa...Satomi really