Page 86 of Daydream

It does end and he makes me lie on the bed until it dries so I don’t ruin hismasterpiece.

“Do I get to paint on you next?” I ask, moving very slowly as he helps me get off his bed and walk toward his full-length mirror.

“No. I’ve seen your doodles. You’re really bad at art.”

“You’re so rude sometimes, do you know that?” I grumble, scowling at him over my shoulder as we walk across the room.

He covers my eyes as we take the final few steps. “Everyone tells me not to filter what I say until it’s time to tell them they’re bad at art. Are you ready?”

“Show me.”

Henry takes away his hands but stays close behind me; his face presses into my neck, kissing over where my pulse is hammering. Lilac and lavender swirls intersect with pearlescent white clouds across my rib cage; soft hues of pinks and blues and greens decorate my skin in the most delicate way. White and yellow blend seamlessly into it all. It takes me a second to realize what it is. “You like meadows. It’s the first thing you ever drew on me.”

“I spend a lot of time daydreaming about lying in them. Feels like it would be peaceful. I’ve developed a fondness for daisies, too.”

There’s anHon the lower left corner of my stomach in thick, black cursive. It’s the only bold color on my stomach. “You signed me.”

His fingers dance across the skin beneath his initial. “How does it make you feel when you look at it?”

“Pretty,” I respond, answering honestly and feeling more vulnerable than I have before. “You always make me feel pretty.”

“You feel like that because youarepretty, Halle.”

“Promise me you’ll let me experience going to a meadow with you.”

“I promise.”

Chapter Twenty-SixHENRY

FINALS IS THE ONLY TIMEof the year when I feel like I have the upper hand academically over all my friends.

I always do well in my exams because I’ve found a system that works to get the best out of me. Practical work has never been a stress for me because I enjoy it so much, and written work falls into my system. It’s simple: I let the impending dread build and build until I start to convince myself that if I don’t start doingsomethingthere’s no way I’ll pass, and then I start studying.

Is it the perfect strategy? No. Is it perfect for me? Yes, and it’s never done me wrong.

Poppy stared at me with her mouth slightly ajar while I explained it to her and Halle. I told her I wanted to react in the same way when I found out she wants to be a kindergarten teacher.

Sure, my method isn’t as tidy as Halle’s highlighted timetable or Anastasia’s not one, but two planners… But I’m the only person not freaking out yet about our imminent end of term exams, and holy shit does it feel good.

My and Professor Thornton’s professional partnership is about to come to a grinding halt, and I’ve never felt better about never havingto talk to someone ever again. I survived, largely because of Halle’s kindness and determination, but I survived.

Now I just need to continue to survive hockey and I might not entirely fuck up my college career. Halle looked at me with pure panic when I told her I’d be putting in extra time at the gym instead of following her meticulously planned lead. It’s safe to say she doesn’t believe me when I say I thrive under pressure.

She pointed out that her concern isn’t lack of belief in me, it’s because every time I’ve been under hockey pressure, like losing, I’ve had what she calls a “meltdown.”

I can’t see her point.

WHEN EVERYONE COLLECTIVELY AGREES TOconcentrate on textbooks instead of beer pong tonight, I try my hardest to look disappointed.

Halle and Aurora are giggling across from me, whispering to each other like a couple of kids. “What?”

“Nothing,” Halle says quickly, eyes flicking back down to her paper.

I look to Aurora, saying nothing because I know I don’t need to. She’ll tell me if I stare at her long enough. It’s around twelve seconds. “You’re just a terrible actor, Hen. I’ve never seen anyone look so relieved not to get to go on a night out.”

“I’m devastated, Aurora. I’m surprised you can’t tell.”

To me it sounds convincing, but for whatever reason they start giggling again. I don’t know whose idea it was to have a late-night group study session, but if it means I don’t have to go to a sweaty frat party, I’m all for it.

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