Oil Paint |'oil,pe I nt| noun; a paste made with ground pigment and a drying oil such as linseed oil, used chiefly by artists. – New Oxford American Dictionary.

Chapter thirteen; Oil paint

"Is it somewhere...sunny?"

     "Yes now shut up."

      "Somewhere outside then." I try to wiggle a confirmation out of him.

      "Lovely. Shut. Up. You've been asking ridiculously obvious questions for half an hour. Can I just have a moment of silence please?" Arthur huffs, suddenly turning from a semi mature (just kidding...not really) nineteen year old into a pouting six year old in two point five seconds.

     I very calmly force the smile off my face and the laugh that's threatening to burst back down my throat before nodding and looking out the window. Silence overtakes the space in the vehicle and just as I feel like it's getting suffocating and my hand begins itching to turn on the music, Arthur speaks up.

      "So...Lovely, tell me something about yourself."

      The request surprises me and it takes me a moment to reply. "What?"

      His head cocks to the side slightly, his eyes never wavering from the road, his hand coming out to gesture, "Well I've just realized that we've known each other for about...oh I don't know, three weeks give or take and I don't truly know anything about you, you know?" He quickly glances over at me to give me a shy smile.

      I think about this, reminiscing back to the times when he worked on a project and all I would do is sit there. But my mind clicks onto another memory. In which we sit together on a porch swing at his house. And another when he made me help with his project.

      I smile at the memories, warmness filling me like a nice hot cup of coffee. "At least we're friends now...and I don't hate you anymore which is good."

      He chuckles at me. "You know, Lovely I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I don't hate you either."

      I roll my eyes and whack his arm playfully with the back of my hand, instantly regretting it because of how stupidly flirty and dumb it was. "Shut up. You know what I mean."

      He raises an eyebrow as the turn signal clicks monotonously and we make a right turn. "Did you really hate me that much?"

      I think back to how annoyed I was to even think about him and how he stole my notebook and phone number to get what he wanted. "Um...yeah. I kinda did." I laugh. "But that doesn't matter because now I think you're..." He looks over at me with his lips pressed together, his dimples popping out as he waits. "...okay."

     "Just okay?" He looks slightly offended but from what I can tell, he's only joking. I think.

      I pretend to reconsider, looking around the vehicle as I do so. "Eh you're right...I'd say you're more tolerable. Okay is too strong of a word." My grin at his expression betrays me and a laugh escapes, "I'm only joking."

      His waggles his finger in a reprimanding gesture before returning his full attention to the road for the rest of the journey.

                                                 *     *      *      *     *

He tricked me. Are the first words that come to mind as we walk into the large building, my eyes going everywhere at once, taking it all in.

      "This isn't outside." I tell him.

       He chuckles, moving to stand in front of me with hid arms crossed, the smell of peppermint and new cologne sweeping over me. "I didn't say it was."

      I open my mouth to disagree but quickly close it with annoyance when I realize he's right. His smirk mocks me causing me to send him my best glare.

      "But you did say it was sunny." It's my turn to smirk.

      He leans in a little closer, and nods his head to the clear glass automatic doors. "Oh look, it's sunlight."

      I push his chest with a grunt. "You're despicable."

      He spreads his arms with a wink and a smile, "That's me."

      I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. He raises a skeptical brow at me, a strand of dirty blonde hair falling over his perfectly clear forehead. "You're seriously going to pout about this? We're going to have so much fun, this is a building literally made out of trampolines. How sick is that?" The sparkle in his eye shifts his demeanor to that of a toddler and the corners of my mouth tug up all on their own.

   "Literally. Literally made out of trampolines. Are you sure it's not metaphorically made out of trampolines?"

      This brings a laugh out of him and before I know it, his hand is on my forearm and I'm being drug off to the entrance of the seemingly never ending room of trampolines. I never knew such a place existed.

       We take our shoes off at the door and slide through the rubber coated metal fence door. I laugh as Arthur grins in excitement, a childish gleam in his eye as he grabs my wrist to drag me off to one of the basketball hoops inside the entrapment.

      "I thought we were going swimming." I laugh as he picks up a hacky-sack basketball and springs himself upward for a dunk.

      "We are. I just thought that we could do this first. I've always wanted to come here but I uh...couldn't get any of my friends to come." He laughs nervously with a shrug of his shoulders.

      "Good thing for you I still have a bit of child left in me then." I tell him before lurching forward and swiftly steeling the ball from his grasp and backing away.

      "Oh no you don't. It's so on." He playfully glares and I jump away defensively, successfully dodging his grasp.

      I hug the ball to my chest with both arms, leaping around him with what I'm hoping is accuracy as I laugh uncontrollably.

      His dirty blonde hair flops messily onto his forehead from all the sudden movement, a newfound look of determination settling upon his features as a game plan obviously bubbles beneath the surface.

       I gulp once before dashing to right then to the left as he easily jumps in front of me each time. He makes an easy grab for the object but I swivel away, letting out an obnoxious laugh as he uses too much force and ends up in a heap on the trampoline floor.

      I wait for him to get up and try again, the ball tucked safely in my arms, but he makes no move to get up. I watch with suspicion as I stand a safe distance away, ready to jump away at a moment's notice but after a few seconds I take a few steps forward to peer down at him, his chest moving up and down with splotches of pink across his cheeks from the exertion. I try not to remember the fact that pink cheeks are on my top five of most attractive qualities and clear my throat.

      "You good there, Art?" I ask with a laugh.

       He holds up his right hand in a thumbs up gesture and I shrug, letting my guard down a tad bit. That was my first mistake.

      "Just dandy. You mind helping me up?" He extends his fingers to an open palm. I raise my eyebrows in suspicion.

      "No way. You'll just take the ball." I hug the object tighter.

       He sighs and lulls his head to the side to look at me. "Love, I promise I won't try and take the ball. Just help a friend up would ya?"

      I swallow at the new nickname, my stomach leaping once. I give him one last look before extending my hand to him. Soon his large hand has engulfed mine and I grip tightly, preparing my foothold.

     I start to tug him up but before he can get on his feet I've lost my grip and he goes tumbling back down, his leg flailing to the side knocking me off my feet and down to the floor in one two point five seconds.

      "OOF." I exclaim as I land next to him on my back in shock.

      "Whoops." He chuckles, rolling on his side to look at me. I sigh and lay on my side as well, not having the energy or the motivation to get back up.

      "Well that was a fail." I tell him.

      He only grins, not looking bothered in the least. "I don't think it ended up too bad. It could have been worse."

      "How so?" I enquire.

      He smirks. "You could have landed on top of me. Now that would have hurt." He blows air through his cheeks.

      I push his shoulder, his response a lighthearted chuckle, before gathering my feet under me with a grunt.

      I don't help him up due to not really feeling like falling down again.

      After allowing Arthur to jump and backflip like a child to his heart's content, I finally drag him out of the building only semi exhausted and only partly starved to death.

      "Come on, I'm hungry." I tell him. He drags his feet across the parking lot with a pout.

      "Couldn't we have stayed just a little bit longer?"

      I laugh at his childish behavior before grabbing his forearm and tugging him into a faster face towards the car. "No. I'm hungry and I thought we were going for a swim."

      He snorts. "Going for a swim? What are you, British?"

      "Shut up." I shove him to the left as we part ways, him on the driver's side and I on the passenger's.

      "So. Was that most fun you've ever had?" Arthur jokes.

      I pretend to consider it. "Indefinitely."

      He grins sincerely at me for a few seconds, his gaze traveling along my face and over my hair. He clears his throat and starts up the vehicle, clicking his seatbelt into place.

      I mind my own business by not asking about it but while he isn't looking I check discreetly into my phone camera to see if I have something on my face. Nope, all clear.

      "So. What next?" I ask, tucking a few stray hairs behind my ear.

     "Remember? We're going for a swim!" He gasps excitedly, obviously mocking me for what I said earlier. I suppress the urge to reach over and give him a hard slap.

      He seems surprised by my lack of reaction. "No but seriously, we're going to head to my house. I have a decent sized pool so why not swim there, you know? And don't worry, we won't be alone. Our house keeper and chef should be around until about ten o'clock."

      My eyebrows rise as his words. "House keeper? Chef. Geez, sounds like you're living the high life."

      He gives me a sad smile. "Or so you'd think."

      The statement doesn't sound like it wants a reply so I remain silent the rest of the ride as I listen to Arthur blab about how pompous and annoying his two older brothers can be. I laugh and nod when necessary and try my hardest not to pity him for what sounds like a very broken family.

      "But for real, they can be horrible idiots at times but...other times they can be okay. When things get bad with our parents they're always there to make sure I'm okay." He tells me with a melancholy smile.

      As we pull up into the larger than life garage, I give a passing glance to the sad looking wicker swing on the front porch and can't help but wonder why the family hasn't replaced it with something bigger and better to match the rest of the home.

      "Here we are. Home not-so-sweet home." He sighs as he takes the keys out of the ignition.

      "Hey. It's not that bad." I tell him as we walk through the bland cream colored door into the home.

      I adjust the strap of my bag over my shoulder as we begin walking through the house. With a jolt of surprise from me, a hand finds its way to my middle back, guiding me around twists and turns. I try and ignore it and pay attention to where I'm going as to not knock my head into a wall or trip and fall on my face and am finally released from the effort as his hand slides over my back as lets me go.

      "Okay so, pool is out that door so I think you can find your way to the pool house. It's just out the door and catty corner to your right where it looks like a bar. We have a bathroom in there and drinks if you want one. Go ahead and get dressed. I've got to do the same so I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?" He smiles.

      I nod wordlessly, feeling a little awkward in my own skin. As soon as he's gone I look around the quiet house before turning the doorknob and stepping outside. Familiar heat and humidity hits me like a hot breath.

      "Pool house." I mumble to myself as I make my way to the expensive looking smaller building with an outside countertop and barstools. "Of course he has a pool house to go with his pool, who doesn't?" I finish sarcastically.

       "Talking to yourself?" I deep voice asks behind me. I tense up and turn around to see a tall figure blocking the sun from my view, casting a shadow over me.

      "Um...yeah it's something I do. Don't mind me I'm just a friend of Arthur's." I try for a smile.

      "Just a friend huh? My mistake for thinking he finally got himself a girlfriend. Who believes all that business before pleasure crap, you know? Like, why can't you have a girlfriend and paint at the same time? Not that this fad of his will last too much longer. Dad has a way with getting what he wants." He tells me looking around the pool area as I stand there completely confused.

       "Um...right well I need to get dressed so if you'll excuse me..."

      "Ellis." He provides.

      "Ellis." I fill in," I really need to –"

      "Harassing girls again, Ellis?"

       I let out a relieved sigh as Arthur comes to stand at my side.

      The handsome young man grins innocently at his younger brother. "Not this time. I was just telling your friend here about how slow to get a girlfriend you are. Pretty interesting stuff."

      Arthur only glares at his older brother. "Unlike you who seems to have a new one daily."

      "And that's just the way I like it, you know that. Have fun you two...but not too much fun." He winks before sauntering away and as the door closes behind him I hear Arthur let out a breath beside me.

      "Sorry about him." He tells me with an apologetic frown.

      I smile lightly. "No, don't apologize. It wasn't too bad. I didn't really get what he was saying anyway."

      "Well that's good I guess. Well, we should head in there so you can get dressed."

      I raise an eyebrow at the statement and he looks confused at my reaction before realization dawns on him and he shakes his head. "No, not like that. I meant to say that – well not that you were – or not that I was thinking..." He clears his throat awkwardly, "I just meant that while you're in the bathroom I could get us a few snacks and drinks...if you want."

A blush rises up his neck in a pink flurry and my eyes follow the trail all the way up to his cheeks where it rests. I laugh a little and he rolls his eyes. "Sorry...I tend to – um – say stupid things and then try to fix it but then I just end up babbling and saying things that aren't exactly relevant and – "

       I reach up and place my index finger gently on his lips without thinking. His eyes cross as he looks down at my finger, seemingly as surprised at the action as I. I take my finger away, ignoring the odd way it's tingling from the inside and put a teasing smile on my face.

      "It's okay. It's cute." The words pour out without permission and I almost slap my hand over my mouth. "I mean...um...I'm going to go get dressed now."

      I make an awkward dash to the pool house before coming to a door. I twist the knob and give it a tug but it doesn't budge. A furious blush rises to my face and I imagine I look a little something like a tomato at this very moment. I try for a harder tug, grunting with effort but the door doesn't open an inch.

      I jump about two feet in the air when I suddenly feel someone behind me. His arm comes next to me and twists the knob, leaning closer into me to push the door slightly. Sure enough, it goes swinging open with ease.

      I take a moment to mentally punch myself in the face.

      "It's a push door, Love." He chuckles near my ear and I squeak in surprise before rushing away from him and into the room, locating the restroom, and slamming the door behind me before clicking the lock into place.

      I stand there stiff for a moment, the embarrassing spectacle replaying in my head over and over before finally knocking my forehead against the door a little harder than I meant to. "Ow." I mutter, rubbing my forehead.

      I turn on my heel to look into the gold rimmed mirror taking in my red face and frizzy hair. Wow, so attractive.

      Could I be any more embarrassing? Probably.

      I strip out of my clothes, for some reason guarding myself from sight even though no one but me is in the room. Maybe it's because I'm strangely consciously aware of the boy on the other side of the door with chocolate brown eyes and an infectious smile.

      I shake my head and pull my white top on along with the bottoms before freezing. I shove all of my clothes back into my bag; fix my frizzy hair and stupidly red face before cracking the door a bit to confirm my suspicion.

      Sure enough, Arthur stands there at the bar in a white V-neck and blue boarding shorts. Of course this had to happen. 

      Just as I'm about to open the door fully I pause watching the scene unfold before me. Arthur stops to lean against the marble countertop, a pile of an assortment of candy behind him, as his head lulls back.

      "Idiot." I hear him whisper before he smacks himself in the forehead and runs his fingers tightly through his hair. I blink at the sight. I doubt he's talking about me...but why would he care if he acted like an idiot in front of me? It's not like I care if he acts like an idiot,

      ...Then again why do I care if I acted like an idiot around him? I don't care when I act like an idiot with Lila. But that's because we're friends. Arthur and I are friends, right?

      "Right?" I ask my reflection. I stare back at myself, my mind practically forcing me to remembering the way Arthur makes me laugh and his inability to form coherent sentences when he's red faced and embarrassed. How willing he was to go to church with me and how good he looks in a dimpled smile and khaki shorts before answering myself warily,

      "I don't know anymore..."