Page 38 of Breaking the Rules

---

Chapter Eight

Emma

"Idon't understand why I need to learn this." I stare at my Art History text book.

The impressionism chapter recap.

There are a dozen questions I can use as practice.

But they might as well be in another language.

I'm so out of my depths here.

"You gonna be one of those tech people who constantly complains about how useless the humanities are?" Hunter glances at me from his spot in the kitchen. He's fixing a cup of coffee. Two actually.

With a pour over.

It's some fancy contraption straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Don't get me wrong.

I'm not a coffee newb.

I've seen these long necked kettles, the hourglass shaped cups, the cone filters.

But I've never seen a civilian use one.

"Em?" He repeats his question for the ten millionth time tonight.

I'm in the clouds.

Ever since I saw Vinnie hanging in the doorframe, I've been floating away from the moment.

I guess it's some sort of Pavlovian response.

Vinnie equals disassociation.

Though, it's not really Pavlovian if the conditioned response happened one time.

Or is it?

Thankfully, Psych 101 is in my rearview mirror.

I don't need to know that.

Whereas the subtle difference between Van Gogh and Monet—

That's of utmost importance.

"No." I read question three again. Eight images of paintings. I'm supposed to name the title and artist. The first is easy. Monet. Water Lilies. "I'm going to own a boutique."

"Oh."

"What do you meanoh?"

"That would suit you."

I stare up at Hunter for some clue to his intention. Is he teasing or serious? I can't tell with him.

---