Conner sits down, touches my arm, and gestures to the seat beside him. I sit stiffly in the chair and say my thanks when Conner’s dad hands me the glass of Fanta.
“Okay!” a chirpy voice comes from behind me, making me jolt. A lady comes into focus and slides gracefully into the seat between Noah and Conner’s dad. Her smile lights up, and her green eyes crinkle when she sees me. “Hey, Noya,” she says.
“Mrs Jones,” I breathe.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Conner looks between us before he clicks. “My mum was your therapist?”
This is awkward.
41
SHE KNOWS
I swallowthe lump in my throat with a sip of Fanta. I don’t know if I should excuse myself and leave or… I don’t know what to do. She knows everything about me and the darkest secrets hidden in the closet. She examined every bone from the skeletons in the closet and uncovered why I had maladaptive daydreaming at such a young age. She is the reason I love art so much.
“This is interesting,” Conner muses.
“It really isn’t,” I murmur.
I glance up at her after tugging on my shirt. Those green eyes glance at my arms, then at my face. I bite my lip and take another sip to keep myself from falling apart.
“Can we eat?” Noah asks.
“Let Noya go first,” Mr Jones says, pushing the platter towards me.
“Thank you,” I whisper, taking a rolled-up piece of ham, cucumber, and cheese.
“So, Noya,” Mr Jones begins after handing Charlotte her food. “Fridays are usually family fun nights, and we play Mario Kart. Do you want to take part?”
“I’ve never played that game before,” I answer. “I wouldn’t know what to do…”
“You can join me!” Charlotte declares. “Noah and Conner always gang up on me.”
“It’s not my fault you hit my banana peels!” Noah defends himself. Then, he points towards Conner, this energy and fire within him. “And you, dog! Every time we play, you throw every red shell at me.”
“Stop bum-rushing me, and you won’t get hit,” Conner says with his mouth full.
“Conner, close your mouth,” Mrs Jones chastises.
Conner grunts and snaps his mouth shut. I can tell he is waiting to continue his argument with his brother.
“What have you been up to, Noya?” Mrs Jones asks when Conner drags the platter towards me.
“Uh…” I grab another ham roll and an egg sandwich. “Not much.”
Conner leans into me and says, “She’s modest. Her art has inspired me.”
Mr Jones shoots his brows up and nods. “Wow. Nice going, Noya. He’s been in a slump for a while now.”
I blush at the thought that I’m Conner’s inspiration.
“I’d love to see,” Mrs Jones says. “Do you have any on your phone?”
“Um…” I place my hand in front of my mouth while I chew. When I finish, I say, “My camera doesn’t work. I can receive images, but I can’t take any.”
Her eyes narrow before that smile comes back out again. “I have an older model sitting in storage. You can have it.”