"Hello." He smiled at me.

I walked over and grabbed his cup, filling it with coffee. "Hi. Um....what are you doing here?"

"I dropped in for a bite to eat. What's wrong with that?"

I blushed and grabbed my notepad. "You left the party yesterday."

"Yeah I had to see the doctor this morning. Missed a few classes so I decided to just spend the day off on my own. I heard you went back. You and John sleep together again?"

"It just happened."

"You like him?"

He looked up at me, eager for my answer. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"And what's it to you?"

He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee. "Just wondering. So you like him."

"I didn't say I did.."

"You didn't answer right away. Either you don't, or you're trying to defuse the subject to hide your feelings."

"Wha.." I was at a loss for words. He just looked at me and smiled.

"Something going on here?" Tiffany asked, standing beside me.

"Don't get too involved with Lennon. He's taken and believe me, he's a bit mad for her." Stu began.

I sighed. "If you think I'm one of those girls that goes on breaking up couples I'm not. Things with John are just for fun. I'm not gonna marry the guy."

"Good." He stood up over me. He smelled like cologne. His hair hung over his eyes. Well dressed. Damp hair from the rain out. I noticed he had a messenger bag around his waist. A small portfolio inside.

"Stuart?"

"Yes?"

"Are you free later? I mean you know..maybe for a talk?"

He looked at me strangely. "What is this?"

I couldn't help laughing a little. "What? Is something wrong with wanting to make a new friend?"

"A girl like you make a new friend? Especially a bloke."

I crossed my arms. "Just cause I go sleeping with John doesn't make me a whore."

"I didn't say you were. What time you get off?"

"Three."

He nodded and handed me a wad of money. "A tip for the chat yeah?"

And with that, he walked passed us, out the door. We watched him jog across the rainy street, making his way under the tarmac as he walked. I sighed.

"What the hell was that?" Tiffany smiled. I looked at her.

"Nothing. I just.."

She gasped. "You like John's friend."

"I do not!" I walked over to another table, grabbing dirty dishes.

"You're blushing! He is cute though isn't he?"

I sighed. "Tiff I doubt he even thinks I'm attractive. Besides, I'm not getting in between two friends."

"You're not getting in between anything!" She followed me to the back as I set the dirty dishes down. "You're just sleeping with one friend and you have a crush on the other!"

We both turned to see the others watching us. I turned red.

"What!? Oh like you haven't had a good time before." Tiffany said to everyone. They all shrugged and went on their own buisness.

I sighed and looked at her. "I miss George."

She looked at me strangely. "Wha.... Molly you just saw him yesterday."

"I know. But not like I used to. It's been awhile since it's just been us. We've been friends for years and since mom died and Peter got in the way...I've been pushing him aside."

"You gotta do something about it." She rubbed my arm. "Come on, we should get back to work. Things will work out. I promise."

I nodded and took a breath, ready to finish this day.
...

Stu came by as soon as I stepped out of the diner. He was still wearing the messenger bag but this time held a fresh cigarette to his lips. Tiffany kissed my cheek goodbye since she was going shopping with her mom and left me alone.

"So, where to?" He asked.

"Somewhere quiet."

He nodded for me to follow. I walked beside him, often glancing at how much taller he was compared to me. Unlike John or the others, he looked so serious. Not mean or stuck up. Just serious. Like his mind was focused on the one task he was working on at the moment. I haven't known John too long, but from all I knew about now he'd be telling a stupid joke or rambling on about his day or the band. But Stu? Just silent. Smoking his cigarette and staring straight ahead.

Me, in my light blue and yellow uniform. My hair messily tied into a ponytail, strands of hair in my face. My lipstick faded, no eye makeup. My softness unfamiliar to most. Recognizable to few.

"You look nice today." He interrupted my thoughts as we turned a corner, down a row of houses. I looked at him.

"I don't feel like it."

He looked at me and took a long drag. His eyes scanning me up and down. I had to admit, I was blushing like crazy.

"Different. Ye look better without all that goop on your face. Natural."

"Is that what you like Stu? A natural girl?" I teased. A half smile took over his lips.

"I suppose. Woman I guess are like art. They all start off like a fresh canvas. Some choose dark colours, some bright pinks. Red shades and bronze."

"What do you like?" I asked as we neared a tall house.

"I fancy black and white."

I blinked. "And what's that?"

He shrugged and grabbed a small set of keys from his pocket, turning the lock.

"Someone a bit odd and real. You write, the pencil or pen is usually black, writing on white paper. Poems and literature is written. Thoughts, ideas. You get something coloured, that's it. You know what you're gettin. Come on." We walked inside. It smelled strong like cigarettes.

"And what am I?"

We made our way up some stairs and stood outside the door to a room. He looked at me, turning the handle.

"Black and white." He smiled.

I looked around as we entered the large room. I noticed an easle with a large canvas. Rolled containers in a corner. A matress on the floor. A record player beside it with many sleeves tossed about. A small window with white curtains.

"Is this your place?" I asked.

"Yeah. Renting a room up here."

"Are you alone? In this room I mean." I took my purse off my shoulder and set it down. He nodded.

"Yep. All alone." He sighed, setting his bag down on the mattress. There was one chair. A stool to be exact. Tubes of paints everywhere. Brushes. A small television.

I sat on the mattress and let my hair down, shaking it out with my hand. He watched me and put out his cigarette in an ashtray nearby. I slowly grabbed his bag and pulled out the portfolio he had with him. He didn't stop me. Just sat on the stool and waited.

I turned through many pages of his art. Abstract drawings, sketches. Small painting techniques and notes. I turned a page and noticed it marked today's date.

It was....

"Me." I said. He smiled.

"You have a beautiful frame. Almost like you were made from an expressionist."

"What do you mean?"

He walked over and sat beside me. "Ye never heard of expressionism in art? The Germans have a great talent for it. They often make characters or abstract figures all over the place. Like you."

I looked at him strangely. He chuckled and set his portfolio down.

"You for example. Your head us oval shape but your jawline is sharp. Your shoulders aren't too big. Your arms go straight down when you stand still. Your breasts are large and make your shirts outline them. Your like an hourglass. Most women nowadays aren't like that. Your legs are thin but curved. When you wear stockings they make you look taller."

I just looked at him as his eyes met mine.

"I've never been described like that."

He looked away and then down at his hands. "I hope I don't weird you out."

I smiled and reached over, touching his arm. "You're different. Not like John."

"Not like John? I must be a freak then" He smiled. I giggled and bit my lip.

"Do you play?" I asked, nodding to the guitar on a pile of clothes. He sighed.

"John and the lads want me to learn. I can't play even to save my life." He laughed. I smiled and laid back.

"Anyone can play. It just takes some time and patience."

"Oh I have lots of patience. I'm just not very interested you know? John wants me to learn i'll learn. For me mate. But by choice..."

"You rather paint."

He nodded. "Do you like art?"

I stared ahead. "I used to love it. My mom...before she passed she was always taking me to museums and galleries. We went to New York one year and we went down to the village. People were out on the sidewalks painting and giving people a show of how they do their work. It always fascinated me. It soothes me I guess. How one thing can go from blank to a masterpiece."

He laid back with me and slowly rested an arm around my shoulders. I smiled to myself, feeling excited at his touch.

"You know um....in a few days, the college is having an art show. It's nothing huge just family and friends come by to take a look. I entered to show off a few of my work....if you're interested. We can maybe go together and maybe get a bite to eat afterwards?...If you'd like to of course." He said quickly.

I turned on my side, looking at him. "Are you asking me out?"

He cleared his throat. "N...y..I suppose. I mean not like anything forward. Just to the art show, a chat and dinner."

"Okay. I'd like to."

"Yeah?" He sat up and grabbed his folder, pulling out a small ticket. "Here ye are."

I looked it over, smiling and set it into my purse. "Will I have to wear something nice?"

"You can if you want. I 'ave to wear a bloody tie and all that rubbish."

"Well then, I'll be sure to wear my best dress."

He smiled. "I'm really glad we did this. I don't make friends too often. John's me mate but... when he's not tied up with the band, he's spending time with Cyn."

"Cyn?" I asked.

"His girlfriend. I wasn't lying when I told you he was mad about her."

I nodded and after a few seconds of silence, yawned.

"You tired?" He asked.

"A little. I should be going. I'll probably take a nap..."

"Why not here? I mean, I'll probably just get back to one of my pieces."

"Then I could walk you home."

"I don't want to give you any trouble...."

"Of course not...please." he looked at me with hopeful eyes. I felt bad for Stu. He seemed to be quite the lonely young student. So shy and quite timid. He rarely loosens up and often comes off as bland. But to people who took the time to know him, he was a gifted artist. He spoke from the mind and did with his heart. I took my shoes off and stretched out my legs.

"Hand me a pillow." I smiled.
...........