them.
"I've been here before," he said. "I knew the people that lived here before you. The house was different back then, though. It was less…" He paused. "Less colourful."
I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite before going back into the lounge and collapsing onto the couch. He wandered around the room, taking his time to examine each of the paintings. I watched him carefully, and when he stood in front of one of the painted walls and ran his hands through his hair, little goose bumps erupted over my skin. The conversation was stilted and awkward, but somehow it didn't matter.
He stopped at the patch of paint where my mother had camouflaged my likeness into the lush greenery of the forest and traced the lines with his finger. "I like this one the best."
I couldn't take my eyes off him.
"Bathroom?" Judah asked.
"Down the hall, second on the left."
I leapt from my seat as soon as I heard the door click shut. There was a large mirror above the fireplace and I took the opportunity to check my reflection. My hair, as usual, had flown in all directions from the walk home. I hastily took a hair tie lying on the mantelpiece and twisted it until my hair hung in a messy ponytail.
Judah cleared his throat behind me.
I jumped, my heart pounding as I turned to face him. I took a few moments to regain my composure, the heat rising to my cheeks at the thought of him watching me attempt to improve my appearance, even though I knew it was a pointless endeavour.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step towards me, an amused look on his face.
"You didn't," I said too quickly.
We stood in silence for a few moments. He stared at me unabashedly until I couldn't look back any longer and dropped my gaze to the floor.
"Guess I better get going," he said finally. "Would it be okay if I walked you home again tomorrow?"
I couldn't help but smile shyly and shrug my shoulders. "Sure."
Chapter Eight
Lennon
I read romance novels. I knew how it was supposed to work, the butterflies in your stomach, the exhilarating happiness that occurred every time you looked into each other's eyes. It had just never happened to me. I was too wrapped up in the practical. Where some people saw golden locks and charming smiles, I noticed the way one eyebrow curved differently than the other, or where spit collected in the corner of someone's mouth. People were people. I didn't get carried away by the packaging.
So why were things so different with Judah?
I changed out of my uniform, grateful to pull on some old track pants and a comfortable tee shirt, and pulled the lawn mower out of the garden shed. It took three tugs before it spluttered to life. It didn't take long to mow the lawns, but the whole time my mind was muddled. I couldn't get the image of his mournful eyes out of my mind, or the hint of happiness that seemed to appear when he spoke to me. Maybe it was just as he said. No one talked to him anymore, and he was just grateful for a friend.
Mum pulled up the drive just as I was dumping the grass clippings into the compost heap, or rather, just a glorified pile of organic rubbish.
"Help me with these, would you?" She tugged at the grocery bags and gave me a pointed look. She had only bought groceries yesterday. For all the times she went to the store, it was strange that we never had any decent food in the house. I wandered over, took the bags and carried them inside.
I waited for her to comment on the lawns but I don't think she even noticed I had cut them. "I need you to give me a ride back to school."
She pulled out some whole grain buns and free-range pork sausages from the grocery bag. "Elmo?"
I nodded.
"Battery?"
I nodded again.
"Let me have a shower first. Can you take care of this?" She nodded to where she had left the jumble of food on the table. "I won't be long." By then she was already making her way down the hallway towards the bathroom. I looked at the groceries scattered over the table
"I've been here before," he said. "I knew the people that lived here before you. The house was different back then, though. It was less…" He paused. "Less colourful."
I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and took a bite before going back into the lounge and collapsing onto the couch. He wandered around the room, taking his time to examine each of the paintings. I watched him carefully, and when he stood in front of one of the painted walls and ran his hands through his hair, little goose bumps erupted over my skin. The conversation was stilted and awkward, but somehow it didn't matter.
He stopped at the patch of paint where my mother had camouflaged my likeness into the lush greenery of the forest and traced the lines with his finger. "I like this one the best."
I couldn't take my eyes off him.
"Bathroom?" Judah asked.
"Down the hall, second on the left."
I leapt from my seat as soon as I heard the door click shut. There was a large mirror above the fireplace and I took the opportunity to check my reflection. My hair, as usual, had flown in all directions from the walk home. I hastily took a hair tie lying on the mantelpiece and twisted it until my hair hung in a messy ponytail.
Judah cleared his throat behind me.
I jumped, my heart pounding as I turned to face him. I took a few moments to regain my composure, the heat rising to my cheeks at the thought of him watching me attempt to improve my appearance, even though I knew it was a pointless endeavour.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He took a step towards me, an amused look on his face.
"You didn't," I said too quickly.
We stood in silence for a few moments. He stared at me unabashedly until I couldn't look back any longer and dropped my gaze to the floor.
"Guess I better get going," he said finally. "Would it be okay if I walked you home again tomorrow?"
I couldn't help but smile shyly and shrug my shoulders. "Sure."
Chapter Eight
Lennon
I read romance novels. I knew how it was supposed to work, the butterflies in your stomach, the exhilarating happiness that occurred every time you looked into each other's eyes. It had just never happened to me. I was too wrapped up in the practical. Where some people saw golden locks and charming smiles, I noticed the way one eyebrow curved differently than the other, or where spit collected in the corner of someone's mouth. People were people. I didn't get carried away by the packaging.
So why were things so different with Judah?
I changed out of my uniform, grateful to pull on some old track pants and a comfortable tee shirt, and pulled the lawn mower out of the garden shed. It took three tugs before it spluttered to life. It didn't take long to mow the lawns, but the whole time my mind was muddled. I couldn't get the image of his mournful eyes out of my mind, or the hint of happiness that seemed to appear when he spoke to me. Maybe it was just as he said. No one talked to him anymore, and he was just grateful for a friend.
Mum pulled up the drive just as I was dumping the grass clippings into the compost heap, or rather, just a glorified pile of organic rubbish.
"Help me with these, would you?" She tugged at the grocery bags and gave me a pointed look. She had only bought groceries yesterday. For all the times she went to the store, it was strange that we never had any decent food in the house. I wandered over, took the bags and carried them inside.
I waited for her to comment on the lawns but I don't think she even noticed I had cut them. "I need you to give me a ride back to school."
She pulled out some whole grain buns and free-range pork sausages from the grocery bag. "Elmo?"
I nodded.
"Battery?"
I nodded again.
"Let me have a shower first. Can you take care of this?" She nodded to where she had left the jumble of food on the table. "I won't be long." By then she was already making her way down the hallway towards the bathroom. I looked at the groceries scattered over the table
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