A couple hours later, around 2:00, I’m in my room just as I have been since Ryder left. God; this is horrible. Being grounded I mean. I could watch TV, or call someone, or use the laptop, but I don’t really feel like it. I’ve been grounded for like six hours; and I’m nearly dying of the complete and utter boredness. How am I gonna make it through the next few days? I knew I would regret taking the fall for Ryder. Well technically, I didn’t. I just told her not to ground Ryder; she was gonna ground me anyway I think. A knock comes at my door and I sit up in the bed.

          “Come in!” I call.

The door opens, and Will steps in. “Hi there.”

          “Hello.” I say in mock cheerfulness.

          “Something wrong?”

I groan, “I’m grounded.”

          “You? Grounded?

          “Hard to believe?”

          “Very; what’d you do?”

          “Curfew; which in my defense, I wasn’t aware of.”

          “How long?”

          “A week.” I mutter lying on my back on the bed, with my knees propped up in the air.

Will plops down, lying beside me. “So we should do something.”

          “Something that doesn’t involve leaving the house.”

          “Right.”

          “Okay, such as?”

          “Hmm,” Will says, looking around my room, “You’re walls are kinda bland.”

I prop myself up on my elbows, looking at the white walls, “Yeah, and?”

          “We’re gonna paint them.” Will tells me, as he sits up.

          “I don’t think that the greatest idea; I mean, I’m only gonna be here for the summer.”

          “Today’s only your third day of being here; you have like two months before you go home.”

          “I guess you’re right.”

          “Sure am, now what’s your favorite color?”

          “Orange.”

          “Orange?” He asks in disbelief.

          “Is that a problem?”

          “No, just thought you’d like hot pink or something.”

          “Well my walls home are pink.”

          “I knew it.” He says, snapping his finger. “I’m gonna go to Lowe’s in L.A. and get the paint and the brushes, and then I’ll be back. Gimme ‘bout thirty minutes.”

          “Alright.” I say, as Will as he jogs out of my room.

I look down at my attire-which is my pajama’s still. I guess I should change into something that’s okay to get paint on. I go over to my dresser and pull it open. I find a shirt at the very bottom of my third dressers. I pick it up and inspect it. It’s a boy shirt because it’s obviously too big for me. As I look down at the design on it, I remember where it came from. It was my ex-boyfriend’s shirt. How it got in my suitcase, I don’t know. I toss the shirt up on the bed, and then find a pair of distressed skinny jeans. They’ll work. I stand up, and pull the shirt and shorts that I’m wearing off. Then I pull on my ‘paint-wear’.

After that, I dig through my purse looking for a hair tie. I find a black one and then comb my fingers through my hair. I pull my hair into a low ponytail, letting it hang down my back. My door opens, and I assume it’s Will, but instead I see Ryder standing before me with his hands in his pockets.

          “Hi.”

          “Hey.” Ryder says.

          “What’s up?”

          “I’m just going out; I just came to ask you if you needed anything from the L.A.”

          “Going to the hospital?” I ask.

          “No, I don’t go every day.”

          “Oh, well, no. Thanks though.” I reply.

          “You sure?”

          “I’m sure.” I tell him.

          “Alright.” Ryder says turning back and leaving my room closing the door.

My phone rings, and I role over, and pick it up. “Hello?”

          “Hi sweetie.”

          “Hi Mother. How’s Brazil?”

          “Oh it’s wonderful.” She says, “I really wish you would have come.”

I chuckle lightly, “Oh well, maybe next year.”

          “So what are you doing?”

          “I’m waiting for Will to get back.” I say.

          “Back?” She repeats.

          “He’s in L.A., buying some paint.”

          “Paint?”

Is she just gonna repeat what I say? “We’re gonna paint my room.”

          “O..kay then. Well you two have fun with that.”

          “Uh huh. Well tell Phil I said hi.”

          “I will honey. I’ll talk to you later, I love you.”

          “Love you too, bye.” I say, hanging up.

Will comes back into my room a few minutes later holding two bags. “I got it.” He announces.

          “I see that.” I say, standing up as he put the bags of paint down on the desk.

          “Let’s get started.”

          “Let’s.” I agree, “Are you wearing that?” I ask, gesturing to his shirt and jeans.

Will nods, popping open the paint, and pulling out two roller paintbrushes. “Something tells me your mother won’t be too happy about this.” I say, walking towards the desk.

          “My mom will be fine.” He assures me.

          “Shouldn’t we like ya know, put something down on the carpet? And like move the furniture?”

         “Right, come on. We’ll move everything that touches the wall to the center of the room then move it back once it’s dry.”

          “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m kinda small. And that’s a pretty large bed.” I tell him.

          “It’s a bed; it isn’t heavy.”

          “Okay, but if I break my back doing this, my medical bill will be sent here.” I threaten.  

          “Sure, now come on.” Will says.

William and I go to the bed and I hold onto the post. “Okay, now we’re gonna pull. Okay?”

          “Uh huh.” I say. I exert all of my energy, trying to pull the bed back.

William O’Connor is a liar. He said the bed wasn’t heavy. That in fact is a lie. The bed moves like a fraction of an inch before I groan, putting my hands on my hips.

          “I can’t do it.”

          “You’re such a girl.” Will says.

          “Oh really? I had no idea.” I retort sarcastically.

          “Come on.” Will commands. I lean back down, trying to pull the bed.

Surprisingly enough, it actually moves. Like more than a fraction of an inch. I know Will’s the one doing most of the moving though. Finally, after a few minutes of pulling it the bed sits in the middle of the room. Will pats my head, grinning, “Atta girl.”

I swap his hand away, “Do not refer to me as if I’m a dog.” I tell him.

          “Okay, okay. Let’s move the desk.” Will says, looking at me. “Or you just sit down, and I'll move it.”

          “Works for me.” I say, falling back on my bed.

Will moves the desk without so much as a sweat or complaint. Stupid strong O’Connor. I close my eyes and I hear him move the drawer. “Alright Prom Queen, get up.”

          “I’m tired. I don’t really feel like painting anymore.” I tell him, yawning.

          “Too bad, I spent $32 buying that paint and those brushes. We are painting. Now get up or be gotten up.”

I open my eyes, and glare at him, “You do know that sentence wasn’t grammatically correct, right?”

          “I don’t care about grammar; it’s summer.” Will says, grabbing my hands and pulling me up.

Will hands me a brush-the non-roller kind and says, “Ready?”

I nod, pushing my hair behind my ear, “I’m ready.”

I dip my brush in the paint, and walk over to my wall. I paint a long streak of orange paint down the wall, extinguishing the white. Will stands beside me, painting with the orange too. We stay like that; just painting for about fifteen minutes before Will gets more paint from the bucket and then taps on my shoulder from behind me.

          “Huh?” I ask.

As I turn around, my face collides with the paintbrush, getting orange paint on my face. I gasp in surprise as Will chuckles, “Oh you think you’re funny don’t you?”

          “Uh yeah; I do.” He says, smiling.

I step around him and dip my own paintbrush in the paint. Then I flick my wrist successfully getting paint in Will’s hair. William eyes go wide, as he brings his hand up to his hair and then pulls it away, seeing the orange paint.

          “Bad idea Mick.” He mutters.

          “Yeah? Whatcha gonna do about it?” I ask, putting my hand on my hip.

          “This.” Will says, grabbing the pail of paint and pouring it all over me. Because he’s so stupid and tall he gets it all in my hair. I stand there in shock for about a second before I retaliate. I pick up the other bucket of paint and toss it at him.          

Will narrows his eyes at me, but he’s smiling so I know he isn’t really mad. “I’m gonna give you a head start.”

          “Huh?” I ask.

Will raises his eyebrows and I get it. I drop my paintbrush on the floor, and turn around taking off at full speed, running out of my room. I go down the stairs, and I hear Will coming after me; his footsteps heavy on the stairs. I get a strange sense-well no so strange-of Déjà vu. I know that I’m dripping paint all over the O’Connor’s stairs, but I don’t really care right now.

I run out of the front door and down the street. Sure, I’m grounded and I’m not supposed to leave my house, but what’s Sarah gonna do? Ground me? Too late. I look back, and see Will running behind me. I almost trip because I’m laughing at how insane he looks. He’s covered in yellow paint-looking like…like I don’t know, a flash of lighting or something. I turn back around, running down the street away from him. This must have been how Ryder felt when I was chasing him, but that doesn’t really count because Ryder is an athlete, he can actually run fast. And from the looks of it, so can Will. It’s a good thing we’re in Vernon, and there isn’t much car traffic, or I’d be dead by now.

          “You may as well quit, I’m gonna catch you Bryant!” Will shouts from behind me.

Well dur, I know that. “Whatever you say!” I call back from him.

My legs start to feel like jelly and my breathing grows heavy. See, I’m not really an athlete. In fact, I failed gym last year. I know what you’re thinking, “How can you fail gym, all you have to do is show up.” Not true at my school; you actually had to play the sports and be good. Needless to say, I sucked. Therefore, I failed. I mean, I trip over flat surface, and I can’t even catch a ball that’s two feet away from me. Suddenly I feel myself being tackled from the behind and I hit the asphalt softly. Damn it. If I hadn’t stopped to think, I could have kept going.

I take a deep breath, no doubt inhaling the paint. Will turns me around, since he tackled me from behind, so that I’m facing upwards and he’s lying on top of me. Surprisingly he’s isn’t as heavy as I would have thought.

          “Told you I’d catch you.” Will says, his minty breath blowing over my face.

          “You realize it’s gonna take me forever and a day to get this paint out of my hair.” I tell him.

          “Hey you started it.”

          “Hey, that’s not true!” I argue, “You totally started it.”

          “All I did was get a tiny minuscule amount of paint on you. You poured the whole thing on me.” He says.

          “Yeah; after you poured it on me.”

          “Okay you win.”

          “I always do O’Connor.”

Will chuckles, and he looks down at me. He’s still lying down on top of me. Sure we’re lying in the middle of the street covered in paint, but whatever. Up closer; Will is…for lack of a better word, beautiful. Handsome. That’s what I should say; that’s more appropriate. Will looks down in my eyes and I watch as his eyes flicker down to my lips. He leans down slowly towards my face. I close my eyes and push myself up, so our lips can actually touch. Will's lips brush lightly against mine, for about a half a second. Then outta nowhere, a car horn blares, making both of us jump in surprise.

          “What are you kids doing?!” Sarah shouts, from the window of the car.

Will gets off me, and pulls me up. “Get in the car. Just get in the car.” Sarah says, shaking her head. William and I get in the backseat of Sarah’s car. I feel a little guilty because we’re like totally ruining her car, but not too badly.

Apparently, we weren’t too far away from the house. Will and I get out and follow Sarah as she unlocks the door. She goes in and then I do, followed by Will.

          “McKenna, you are aware that you’re grounded right?”

I nod, “I am aware.”

          “Yet you were lying in the middle of the street under William.” She says. Well gosh; when she puts it like that it sounds so bad. “And why are you both covered in paint? Moreover, why is my house covered in paint?”

          “Well we were sorta kinda painting McKenna’s room.” Will tells her.

          “I do not know what I’m gonna do with you kids. Just go…go shower or something.” Sarah says, but she's obviously trying not to laugh. She sucks at being  a "serious parent." 

Will laughs under his breath, and he and I both stand up, and because he has a bedroom down here, he goes left, while I go right, heading up the stairs. I go in my room, and laugh aloud as I see the mess. Yellow and orange paint is all over my white carpet and on the walls. Well it doesn’t look too bad actually. It looks like one of those paintings when the artist just randomly throws the paint everywhere. I wonder what would have happened if Will and I actually would have kissed. Probably awkward. I’m not gonna lie though, I wanted to. Well at least I think I did. God, life is hard.