Painted: 1.0.2

Chapter 2

Kassi was alone in the house again.

She wanted to paint, but the strokes of her brush didn't flow the way she wanted them to. Painting usually came easy to her, but now she was stuck. The image didn't look right and her mind was blank.

Frustration weighed on her shoulders. This must've been the tenth time this week that she'd sat down to the canvas and just stared at it without painting anything. This painting was useless. No--the painting wasn't useless; she was.

"Aaarg!" Kassi stood quickly, knocking back her chair in the process. Without thinking, she grabbed her palette and threw it down on the floor. It made a hollow clunk, and then the room was silent again.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the spatters of wet paint on her floor. Then, little shivers started running through her body, and she fell backward onto her bed.

The sobs came in quick little whimpers as she hugged herself and rolled back and forth on her blankets. She was wandering on a road that led to nowhere--not only on her painting, but also in her schoolwork... in her future... What would she do when, one day, Sila never came back? What would she do when Jame got bored with her company? She would be nothing when left all alone.

Kassi's phone buzzed and bounced a couple of times on her desk, making a smashing noise every time it came down again. Kassi grabbed it from the desk and turned it on.

Her phone was a clunky old thing that could only barely receive texts three minutes after they had been sent. Her text inbox only contained one text thread: the one from Jame. That was it.

After loading for a couple of seconds, her phone buzzed again and displayed Jame's text across the screen.

hi! would u want 2 come over 2 my house in a couple mins?

Yes. That would be just the thing to cheer her up.

sure! ill leave now, Kassi texted and stuck her phone in her pocket.

After changing her clothes so that they didn't look suspiciously like pajamas, Kassi shoved on her shoes and was out the door.

Time was hidden and soon the smooth tiling that led up to Jame’s house was under her feet. Gnarled weeds crept from the cracks of the stepping-stones, hoping to escape the crushing cold of the flat tiles above them.

Kassi breathed in a rush of cool air as the shade fell and smiled shyly at the familiar forever-trees (she called them that in her head because she could never see their tops nor the ends of their branches).

The outside brick wall of Jame’s home was muraled in swirls of color that Kassi remembered so well. She had helped to paint that mural when she was only six years old. It had been a clear day, and she had just begun her second year of school. Jame was a grade above her, so he would have been starting his third. Jame's grandfather had given Jame’s mother the idea, and she had been ecstatic. So they had gone out in the sun with their sleeves rolled up in a futile attempt to keep the color away from their shirts with huge brushes that Kassi could barely hold. The mural was still there, beautiful in the panes of light let in by the forever-trees.

Kassi climbed the four stairs leading to Jame’s front door and knocked three times with the back of her hand. The knock could be heard echoing through the inside of Jame’s house. Then she heard clipping footsteps as someone came to answer the door.

“Kassi!” A man with a blond lumberjack beard opened the door, grinned, and reached out for a hug. He was Jame’s father: a big man always clad in wool hats and extra large t-shirts. He very much liked hugs. “It’s been too long!”

“Only three days,” Kassi reminded, but her voice was somewhat muffled as she was pressed into his chest. At last he released her, only to grab her arm and pull her inside the house.

“Viata and Jame are in the kitchen,” he said and chuckled a little to himself. “Viata has recently become infatuated with salads. I swear, I never knew there was so much strategy to sticking some leaves and tomatoes in a bowl.”

Kassi laughed. Her bad mood was almost completely gone now.

Jame's house was in likeness to Kassi’s in that it was large and spacious, with many corridors and rooms, and in that there were many paintings hanging on the walls, but the similarities ended there. Kassi’s house was old and creaky, clad in wood floors and dusty, regal furniture, but Jame’s house was quite the opposite. It was new and slick and echoey. It was stylish in a sort of sharp, efficient way, and the furniture was angular and smart while still being comfortable. While Kassi’s house was brown wood all over, with a splash of color from the paintings, Jame’s house was mostly grey, white or black (but not in a way that implied boringness, for his parents had made sure to add color by way of paintings and some occasional, eye-popping furniture). It was a modern house, a bit like an abstract painting.

Sure enough, Jame and Viata were in the kitchen. Jame had his back turned to her when she walked in, and she could see that his tall figure was shaking with laughter. His light blond hair stuck up all over the place, like usual. Across from him, Viata stood in a green apron, vigorously chopping some wrinkled green leaves. She wore jeans coupled with a blue t-shirt under the apron, and her lightly tanned face was somewhat veiled by her curtain of vibrant, strawberry blond waves. One would assume that a woman her age would have had to dye her hair to make it so colorful, but everything about Viata was natural.

At last, she looked up from her chopped greens and tucked her hair behind an ear. She noticed Kassi and a grin broke her face.

“Hello, darling!” Viata exclaimed and rushed over to hug Kassi. “How are you? Has Sila left you alone again?”

“Yes, she has, but it’s alright; I’m alright.”

Kassi looked over Viata’s shoulder and saw that Jame had turned to look at her. He was leaning back on the countertop, waiting patiently for his mother to release Kassi. He had a little smile in his bright blue eyes, like he was pleasantly surprised by her visit, even though he had invited her himself.

At last, Viata released Kassi to hold her at arm's length.

“Such a pretty, smart girl like you deserves more than a childhood of neglect!”

“Mom doesn’t—I’m—” Kassi started, but Viata didn’t let her finish; she had begun to gaze out the window at the forever-tree. When she did that, Kassi knew that the previous subject would probably be abandoned. Viata had a tendency to stop mid sentence and...

“It's such a beautiful world you live in, my dear. It's such a beautiful world for all of us. Just look at those trees outside... so lovely... so pure,” Viata said dreamily, then she seemed to remember that Kassi stood in front of her. “Don’t you think, darling?”

“Yes, they're very pretty,” Kassi said obligingly.

Viata smiled. “Well, I doubt you are here for me, Kassi. I think I shall return to my salad.” And she floated off to the chopping board.

Jame’s father excused himself and it felt as though Kassi and Jame had been left alone.

Jame continued to smile his crooked smile, and Kassi's heart fluttered a little as she looked at him. It wasn't just that he was good looking—which he most definitely was—but there was also something else. Something about his mannerisms that let her relax and shed her shyness. Perhaps it was that she had known Jame for so long, or that he never seemed to judge her, or that he was the only one who stood up for her.

Finally, Jame opened his mouth and said, in a voice that you just had to believe when you heard, because there was some small light behind it that you couldn’t help but notice, even behind words that were spoken every day by millions of people, “How’re you doing?”

Kassi sighed. “I think I’m fine. I'm just glad to see you. How are you doing?”

Jame kept smiling with his mouth, but something flickered in his eyes. But it only flickered once, and soon he was back to his usual self, staring at her face with some sort of curiosity. Finally, he said, “I’m glad you’re well.”

Kassi dismissed this. “But what about you?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jame said, without breaking eye contact.

The air between them was silent for a moment, then Kassi said in frustration, “But I ought to worry about you, Jame. I always have.”

Jame closed his eyes and broke the bridge between them for a moment. He seemed tired, but no less sharp than usual. “Sometimes, Kassi, you just have to trust me: don't worry.”

Viata seemed to sense the tension, and she called out in a shrill voice, “Lunch! Time for lunch!”

“Good.” Jame opened his eyes again, and the smile returned. “Let’s eat!”

The two of them sat at the bar and ate their ruby-dusted salads in silence. Around them, the paintings watched.