Page 10 of Face Me Off

But Mr. Sorenson had treated me nicely and greeted me with a smile. He even asked about my artwork and told me I wouldmake a great artist. I guess he saw the ink drawing I made for Ryan, the one where he’s wearing his hockey gear and holding the Stanley Cup overhead.

A smile crosses my mouth at the memory. Ryan was speechless when I handed him the sketch, impressed by the intricate details. He said he’d keep it forever for good luck and would always think about me. I wonder if he still has it.

That would be a negative. I’m sure Ryan tossed it the first chance he got. But it was a rather impressive piece, if I say so myself.

But I love creating artwork.

I just wish my parents appreciated what I wanted to do instead of having my life planned out. I want to create, not work as a dentist. Both of my parents work in the medical field. My mom runs a dialysis center, and my father is a leading surgeon. They had plans for me the moment they realized they were pregnant.

I was to carry on the medical tradition and become a pediatrician. Mom had complications during delivery, leaving her unable to bear children. My father inadvertently uses that as leverage. I cave to his will every time he brings up the fact he’ll never have a son.

I shove those thoughts into a corner and head out to greet my friend.

“Oh my goodness, I’ve missed you.” She tosses her arms around me and squeezes. Amanda’s hugs are the best.

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“It looks like you’ve been drawing.” She points to my hands, smeared with ink on the side.

“Uh, yeah. Nothing too elaborate.”

“If you drew it, then it’s good.”

Her confidence in me has always been staggering. If only my parents had the same confidence.

“Have you talked to Ryan yet?” I ask.

“Not yet.” She gives me a strange look as my stomach lurches. “Why?”

“I just…”Wondered if he said anything about me.“Thought that you may have, that’s all.”

That’swhat I lead with? I’m not subtle at all!

Note to self, be slicker. Good grief, I’m a disaster. But not telling her I was with Ryan feels like a betrayal. I’m ninety-nine-point ninety-nine-percent sure she’d never tell anyone. It’s that point one percent that holds me back. It’d be disastrous if anyone found out I was with Ryan, and it got back to my father.

Nope! Nobody can know. I’ll take her at word that she’s not into Ryan that way.

“Nah, we’ve been busy. I’m sure we’ll grab our annual welcome-back-to-school coffee date.” She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal. “You know how he is.”

I nod, offering a half-hearted smile. Yeah, I know how he is, all right.

The truth is, I haven’t spoken to him since that night either. It’s not like I’m avoiding him or anything. I mean, maybe a little, but it’s more about giving myself some space to think. To figure out what this … whatever it is … means to me.

Maybe I don’t want to know what it means to him.

Yet, I do, don’t I? To him, I must be like the crumpled art piece in the trash bin beside my desk, a tight ball of regret.

“Let me take this to the room first.” Amanda points to her luggage. “I’ll be right back.”

I go to the kitchen to keep myself busy. “Do you want a smoothie?”

“No! If I wanted to drink grass, I would’ve picked some in the field I passed earlier.”

“Ha, ha,” I laugh. No one, and I mean no one, likes my green smoothies. But I don’t understand why. They’re so healthy.

When Amanda returns from placing her suitcase in her bedroom, she finds me cleaning the blender. She grabs a bottle of water and plops down on the couch.

“I can’t believe we don’t have any classes together this semester.”

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