Page 55 of The Art of Us

After school, Ireland wasn’t at the mural like he’d expected. He walked around to try to find her and discovered her talking to the custodian. He panicked because he remembered that Ireland blamed the older woman for telling on her regarding the homelessness situation. Kal hurried over to interject and save the poor woman from underserved wrath.

When he got there, Ireland wasn’t berating the woman. Instead, they seemed to be having a fairly laid-back conversation. “Everything good here?” he asked warily.

Janice tucked back a silver strand of hair that had pulled loose from her bun and said, “Everything good.” She gave no further information.

“I better get going. I’m glad your son’s doing better.” Ireland waved at the custodian. “See you, Janice.”

“See you.”

“Want to hear something weird?” Ireland said once they were back in the art room at the mural.

“Absolutely.”

“Janice wasn’t the one who told Mr. Wasden about me not having a place to live. She said she didn’t know.”

Kal’s blood slowed to sludge in his veins. “Huh. Weird.”

“How would Mr. Wasden have found out?”

“It’s a good thing he did though, right? You’re happy where you’re at. You said you liked working at the bakery, right?”

Ireland shrugged. “Well, yes, but ...” she kept looking down to where she and the mystery lipstick writer had been communicating. She went silent as she inspected the wall. “I am so stupid,” she blurted.

“You arenotstupid.”

“I am though. I totally overstepped,” Ireland said in a rush of panic-laced words. “Jarrod told me to just listen. But no. I just had to give advice because I felt like I knew what was right, but I don’t think she was ready for advice. She’s not ready. She justneeded someone to listen. Like he said. Why couldn’t I do that? Why couldn’t I just listen?”

“Ireland. Pause. Time out. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She licked her lips and glanced nervously around before she lowered her voice. “Look.” Ireland pointed to the mural.

Kal looked at the wolf Ireland had painted earlier that day and saw that the howling wolf was now muzzled. Tears were streaming out of its eyes. When he looked back up at Ireland, tears were in her eyes too.

“I just don’t know how to help her. What could I possibly say to Mara that she would listen to?”

“Wait, what?” Kal was sure he’d heard wrong. “Mara?”

Ireland’s eyes went from sad to straight-up, high-key panicked. “Mara ... nothing about Mara. Sorry. I was just talking out loud. Never mind.”

“Ireland. Is Mara the mystery artist?”

“Kal . . .”

She was totally about to lie to protect that secret, but Ireland didn’t need to respond. The answer was written all over her face. He looked back at the mural, seeing it through the lens of its creator. Of course it was Mara. There was a level of skill in the art that no other student in the school owned except her. How had he not seen it before?

“How did you find out?” he asked.

Ireland opened her mouth, probably to lie to him, but he shot her a look, and she finally said, “I found her lipstick in her bathroom the other night.”

“Oh. Oh boy.” Kal didn’t know why it bothered him so badly that this person in such desperate need was Mara. Perfect Mara. Her life was the one in this school that seemed to have nothing lurking in its shadows. If perfect Mara could feel like a shattered mirror, what hope was there for any of the rest of them?

What could he do? Whatshouldhe do? It was like finding out about Ireland living in a bathroom all over again. He wanted to help, but like Ireland had said, he didn’t want to overstep.

The nervous energy coming from both girls all made sense now. They must have had a talk about it, and now neither one knew how to act. At least that was what he assumed. “So you told her you knew?”

“No!” Ireland insisted. “How could I? But I talked to her last night, and she told me things, more than she’s said on the wall here. Oh, Kal. I should have just listened. Why did I try to solve her problems with my unsolicited advice? Even my dad used to tell me that no one appreciates unsolicited advice, and here I am handing it out like people are trick-or-treating and I’m the only house with candy.”

Kal put his hands on Ireland’s shoulders and gently massaged them. “Hey. Hey, Ireland. Breathe, okay? What happened?”

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