Page 17 of Fruit
CHAPTER FOUR
I step into the youth centre a little tentatively.
“Um. Hi,” I say as I approach the front desk. Jasmine looks up.
“Oh, hi. Iva, right?”
“Yeah. I, um, I hope this isn’t weird, but I have something for Joshua.”
Jasmine raises her eyebrows questioningly. “Oh?”
I put the large canvas bag I’m carrying on the desk. “He mentioned he liked art.” I open the bag, revealing a collection of art materials and a sketchbook inside.
“Oh. Did he?”
“Well, I had to pull teeth for him to tell me, but…”
“Yeah, that sounds like him. He’s here if you want me to get him.”
“Oh, yeah. Sure,” I say. I’d actually chosen today on purpose, the same day and time I’d first met Joshua, guessing he’d likely be at the youth centre.
“Okay, let me see if he’ll come out.”
“Okay.” I wait as Jasmine disappears through the double doors, reappearing a couple of minutes later with Joshua in tow. He looks at me suspiciously, but I smile widely
“Hey. Your eye looks better,” I greet. The swelling around his brow has gone down, just the remnants of a bruise left on his dark skin.
Joshua shrugs, saying nothing.
“I brought you some stuff. We artists have to stick together, you know.” I point at the bag. After a slight pause, Joshua approaches my side of the desk. I tilt the bag towards him but take a step away, giving him some space. Joshua peers inside, and his eyes go a little wide. He looks at me quickly before looking back at the art materials.
“These are for me?”
“Yeah. I thought you’d like them. I mean, you can share them with the youth centre if you want, but I brought them for you.”
“Oh…thanks,” he says, but he doesn’t make a move to grab the bag.
“I can show you what they are, if you want,” I say, looking at Jasmine for permission.
She nods but indicates one of the free tables in the waiting room. “You’ll have to stay out here.”
“Sure,” I say. After a slight pause, Joshua nods.
I grab the bag and lead Joshua to the table. He watches me sit down first before taking an armchair to the side of the couch I chose. I upend the bag on the table.
“Okay, so, I got a few markers here. These are my favourites ’cause they have different widths, see? And the thin ones are, like,reallythin, so they’re really good for detail.”
Joshua picks up the markers hesitantly, inspecting them carefully. He remains silent, so I go on.
“I don’t know if you like using pencils, but these are really good. They last a long time ’cause they don’t tend to splinter when you sharpen them which is,urgh, so annoying. I know you like graffiti, so I brought some blow pens—you blow through this end and they kind of imitate a spray can. And I got some of these—they’re, like, tape paper.” I indicate the pieces of A4 sized sheets. “See, they’re covered by a plastic film now, but you cut that away and there’s tape underneath and you can sprinkle stuff on and make designs. It’s good practice for graffiti, I think. And a sketchbook, too—the paper is even good with watercolours,” I explain.
Joshua looks at all the stuff for a moment before raising his eyes to meet mine with a frown.
“What do you want?” he asks. I blink.
“What do you mean?”
“Why’d you bring me this stuff? What do you want?”
