Page 106 of Hello Stranger

And I realized, looking at the images, that I was seeing them in a special way. Most people, I realized, saw her face itself—and her attempts to render it. But I couldn’t see the face. All I could see was the emotion. The artistry. The longing.

It was like getting the inside view.

By the time I finished reading, my perspective had shifted. The artist described her self-portraits as “healing,” and that was the only word I needed to hear.

I grabbed some paper and some charcoal pencils, sat straight down, and started working on a self-portrait by feel of my own.

Two seconds later, two hours had gone by.

I looked up from the finished drawing and saw the darkening sky.

Then I turned back to the self-portrait I’d just drawn—that jumble of features that I couldn’t see—and I just knew, very simply, that it was good.

I texted a photo to Sue and said,This is good, isn’t it?

She texted back:OMG. It’s amazing!

I had barely “liked” it when another text came from her.

Do that to Joe!!!Then,Maybe this is the brain hack you’ve been looking for!!!

But,I texted back,I just decided to quit the competition.

Too bad,Sue said.Unquit.

NOT QUITTING MEANTI had some groveling to do. With Joe.

I went down to his apartment and knocked on the door.

“I’m sorry I was weird before,” I said when he opened the door. “I had a colossally bad day—and you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Really?” Joe said.

He didn’t believe me? “Really,” I said. “It wasn’t personal.”

“It seemed kind of personal to me.”

“I had just shattered a glass door,” I said. “I was having a moment.”

“But the way you glared at me…”

Had I glared at him?

“I walked away wondering what I had done.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Not true—but I didn’t want to get into it. I didn’t want to hear any confessions or apologies about Parker. Because I’d never be able to be around him, or tolerate him, or put my hands all over him the way I was about to ask to do if he told me he was dating her.

Then I’d really need a new model.

The point was, I didn’t want to know. I needed to keep it all professional. No confessions. No truths. Just a pleasant apology and one last portrait attempt before I gave up on all my dreams.

Joe went on, “And so I thought about it. Pretty much all day. What had I done to piss you off? And then I got it.”

“You got it?”

Joe nodded. Here it was. Confession time.

“We don’t have to—” I started.

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