Page 110 of Counter Bet

Josh: Cool. I’m out. See u fuckers soon.

I place my phone down on the nightstand. God, I miss them so much! Why am I torturing myself like this?

I roll over on my side and reach for the photographs inside of the drawer.

Ben left me another one today. It’s one of us at the skatepark a couple of weeks back when the three of us went alone.

My first instinct when I discovered it was to find Ben and do what? I don’t know. Throw myself at him and beg for forgiveness or slap him for being so fucking sweet? Maybe both.

I read the scrawled words on the back.

“I miss your smell.”

He left me another photograph earlier in the week too. I found it on my desk when I arrived for my English lesson.

It’s a picture of me eating ice cream on a park bench in town. It was windy that day.

His smile is blinding behind the camera. He reaches out, brushing away a piece of strand stuck to my lipgloss.

“There’s no point,” I laugh, lips tingling from his touch. “It’s too windy.”

He winks as he leans down and takes a big bite out of my ice cream. His eyes sparkle with mirth. “Fucking tasty!” he groans around a mouthful.

I lick the melting ice cream that’s dripping down the cone. “Enjoy your brain freeze.”

His eyes are trained on my mouth. “I can handle my ice cream, princess.”

“Is that so?” I laugh when he scrunches his face up in pain.

“Jesus, fuck!”

I take a long lick and moan exaggeratively. “So tasty!”

His messy handwriting tugs at my heartstrings.

“I miss the sound of your laughter.”

My heart twists. Why is he doing this? Why make it harder? But I also don’t want him to stop.

* * *

The days pass by in a blur. I focus on my exams, practice for a cheer competition out of state, and paint.

I’m working on a new abstract painting in the art room after school when Matt walks in with a sketch pad in his hand.

“Hey, princess,” he says, smiling at the paint splatter on my arms, then points to the easel in front of me. “It’s good. Really good!”

I’m relieved he isn’t making this more awkward than it needs to be. “Thank you. I’m not much for abstract art, but it seems to be the only thing I can create lately.” I shrug.

He smiles, rubbing the corner of his lip with his thumb. “I doubt that. I’ve seen what you can do. You pull everything off.”

I wave him off. “Come on, Matt. We both know that’s not true. I’m terrible at sketching.” I gesture to the worn folder in his hand.

He holds it up in the air. “Oh, this old thing? I think you can pull it off.”

I suck my lips between my teeth, suppressing a smile.

“I have an idea.” He grins widely. “I challenge you to create an amazing sketch, and I will attempt abstract art.”

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