purposefully scooting closer to him.
“Oh, yeah,” he said, putting his arm around her with a smile. “This is nice.”
She chuckled. Having him so close was nice–but distracting. She folded her arms across her chest and set her gaze on the sketch, trying to recall the way they’d critiqued in art class.
She’d almost forgotten the intimidating amount of skill displayed in Calvin’s first piece. This drawing showed that same level of talent, and it made Evie glad she’d gone first; she may have chickened out altogether after seeing this one.
The art portrayed two young boys at a riverside. One leaned lazily against a tree, plucking a tall blade of grass, while the other stood close to the edge of the river. Surrounding the boys stood tall trees with mighty trunks so detailed, she imagined reaching out to feel the rough texture of the bark against her fingers.
“Calvin, this is beautiful. The detail is amazing.” It took her a moment to remember she was supposed to be analyzing the piece. She was more content to just enjoy the beauty of it.
“Let’s see. It’s a sketch–looks like pencil lead. And um, maybe a slight wash of … I’m not sure what kind of paint over top.”
“Egg tempera.”
She looked at him and smiled. “Hmm. I haven’t heard of that one yet.”
“It’s really cool. You actually make it yourself. Gives it that kind of luminescent look.”
There was something appealing in watching Calvin talk about the craft he knew so well. “That is cool. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Looking back to the art, she spoke up once more. “Okay, the first thing I notice is the contrast between the two boys. This one to the left, he looks a bit younger than the other one, he’s carrying two backpacks. One on his back, and one that’s hooked around his fingers and kind of scraping the ground, like it’s heavy for him. ” She pointed toward the boy seated on the ground. “The one down here, lounged against the tree trunk, seems to be relaxed and carefree, where this one is like, picking up the slack, maybe, since I’m guessing the other backpack is his. There’s this sense of burden.” She took a look at Calvin. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”
“No, you’re doing great. Go ahead.” He kept his gaze on her as she continued.
“There’s something else that stands out to me though. The paint you were talking about–this amazing wash of gold–it puts a twist on the mood. But I can’t exactly place it.”
Calvin brought his arm from around her back and leaned his elbows onto his knees. “This isn’t the most momentous time of my life, but I’ve been taking art for years now and I’ve already gone there, more than once. But there was this time, shortly after my mother died, when I was kind of faced with a decision, I guess. My dad expected life to still go on, of course, wanted us to be part of the team, as he called it.”
He shook his head absently, the story replaying somewhere behind his deep brown eyes. “We were all suffering, and it took a lot to stay afloat. But Parker refused to do his part. I watched the way he used his pain as an excuse to act like a jerk half the time, and I made a conscious effort not to follow his lead. I knew I’d have to grow up faster and just … be stronger without having my mom around. But I also knew that if I did, I’d become the man she would’ve wanted me to be.” He nodded toward the artwork. “I made that decision, in a moment like this, at the riverbank by our house.”
Evie pulled her gaze from the page as he paused, glancing over at him.
“I’m glad you caught onto the light. It’s a big part of it. Because on the actual day, it seemed like once I set my mind to it, this incredible burst of light broke through the cluster of trees, almost … I don’t know, confirming that I’d made the right choice. That my mom would have been proud, if that makes any sense.”
Evie nodded. “It does. Makes a lot of sense,
“Oh, yeah,” he said, putting his arm around her with a smile. “This is nice.”
She chuckled. Having him so close was nice–but distracting. She folded her arms across her chest and set her gaze on the sketch, trying to recall the way they’d critiqued in art class.
She’d almost forgotten the intimidating amount of skill displayed in Calvin’s first piece. This drawing showed that same level of talent, and it made Evie glad she’d gone first; she may have chickened out altogether after seeing this one.
The art portrayed two young boys at a riverside. One leaned lazily against a tree, plucking a tall blade of grass, while the other stood close to the edge of the river. Surrounding the boys stood tall trees with mighty trunks so detailed, she imagined reaching out to feel the rough texture of the bark against her fingers.
“Calvin, this is beautiful. The detail is amazing.” It took her a moment to remember she was supposed to be analyzing the piece. She was more content to just enjoy the beauty of it.
“Let’s see. It’s a sketch–looks like pencil lead. And um, maybe a slight wash of … I’m not sure what kind of paint over top.”
“Egg tempera.”
She looked at him and smiled. “Hmm. I haven’t heard of that one yet.”
“It’s really cool. You actually make it yourself. Gives it that kind of luminescent look.”
There was something appealing in watching Calvin talk about the craft he knew so well. “That is cool. You’ll have to show me sometime.” Looking back to the art, she spoke up once more. “Okay, the first thing I notice is the contrast between the two boys. This one to the left, he looks a bit younger than the other one, he’s carrying two backpacks. One on his back, and one that’s hooked around his fingers and kind of scraping the ground, like it’s heavy for him. ” She pointed toward the boy seated on the ground. “The one down here, lounged against the tree trunk, seems to be relaxed and carefree, where this one is like, picking up the slack, maybe, since I’m guessing the other backpack is his. There’s this sense of burden.” She took a look at Calvin. “Sorry, I’m not very good at this.”
“No, you’re doing great. Go ahead.” He kept his gaze on her as she continued.
“There’s something else that stands out to me though. The paint you were talking about–this amazing wash of gold–it puts a twist on the mood. But I can’t exactly place it.”
Calvin brought his arm from around her back and leaned his elbows onto his knees. “This isn’t the most momentous time of my life, but I’ve been taking art for years now and I’ve already gone there, more than once. But there was this time, shortly after my mother died, when I was kind of faced with a decision, I guess. My dad expected life to still go on, of course, wanted us to be part of the team, as he called it.”
He shook his head absently, the story replaying somewhere behind his deep brown eyes. “We were all suffering, and it took a lot to stay afloat. But Parker refused to do his part. I watched the way he used his pain as an excuse to act like a jerk half the time, and I made a conscious effort not to follow his lead. I knew I’d have to grow up faster and just … be stronger without having my mom around. But I also knew that if I did, I’d become the man she would’ve wanted me to be.” He nodded toward the artwork. “I made that decision, in a moment like this, at the riverbank by our house.”
Evie pulled her gaze from the page as he paused, glancing over at him.
“I’m glad you caught onto the light. It’s a big part of it. Because on the actual day, it seemed like once I set my mind to it, this incredible burst of light broke through the cluster of trees, almost … I don’t know, confirming that I’d made the right choice. That my mom would have been proud, if that makes any sense.”
Evie nodded. “It does. Makes a lot of sense,
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