by Gin Price
“Mmm.” He groaned, as if he could read my mind, and gently set me aside. “You better go now before I do something far crazier than just kissing you on this bench.”
I tried not to notice as he stood and adjusted the front of his pants. Okay, maybe I didn’t try real hard, because I caught every stuttered move he made as he walked me the block back to my house. Just outside my gate he stopped and gave me one last quick kiss.
“So, tomorrow? Tucker Park?” I asked anxiously, unsure if, after all the drama from tonight, he’d still want to meet up with me.
He gave me a genuine grin, back to his old self. “Actually, I think tomorrow we should take things between us to the next level.”
I stood there, outside my bedroom window, my mind racing with all sorts of ideas about what “next level” meant. And I couldn’t help but smile as I noticed him effortlessly vault over my neighbor’s gate like a true traceur.
Fifteen
“This is what you consider next level?” I asked the next night, peeking over my shoulder to see if anyone was about to lynch us. Two kids dressed in black, ten o’clock at night creeping around the school, my arrest record was about to get another page, I could feel it.
Haze felt around the school’s windowpane, slipping a finger in the gap I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t watching. “What were you expecting?”
“I don’t know, maybe coffee or something?” When he turned to look at me oddly, I shrugged. “Yeah, I said it! We hang out in a closet every weekday, and a park sometimes at night. I thought you might be ready to get a coffee—like a date or something. Tell me that wouldn’t be a step up.” Okay, maybe I was hoping that by “next level” he had meant some heavy petting behind the school dumpster, but I’d been willing to settle for a real date—in another city, far, far away from anyone we knew.
“This is next level. You’re teaching me yours, now I’m going to teach you mine. It’s also a lesson in trust.”
“Oh? It looks a lot like a lesson in crime.”
He opened the window and motioned for me to crawl in. “That, too.”
“I dunno, Bren.”
“Trust me not to get us caught, and I’ll trust you not to turn me in.”
I stood there for a second, weighing the options. If Haze and I climbed into the window and got caught, we’d get busted in more ways than one. I could try to say I met Haze at the school to kick his ass, but I doubted that would fly. Our relationship would definitely be outed—again, and this time, Warp wouldn’t buy any of my bullshit acting skills.
Screw it. I didn’t feel like worrying about it. Not tonight.
Smiling, I nodded and crawled through the window, damn near falling on my face as I slid across the ancient radiator and landed on the floor of the art room with a plop.
I flinched as Haze’s flashlight glared into my eyes a few seconds later.
I couldn’t see his face but I heard his soft chuckle clear enough.
“You coulda warned me,” I admonished in a whisper.
“You’re in this class every day and you didn’t remember there’s a heating register there? You must get really distracted.”
“Yeah. That guy Bernard is pretty hot.”
Haze swatted my backside, giving me a nudge toward the gated art closet. The gate was always wide open, so I couldn’t help but wonder why Mrs. Peris didn’t just take it off the hinges.
“So, you’re allowed to sneak in here?”
“Mrs. Peris is actually pretty cool. She thinks some rules are fun when broken. All she tells me is that she doesn’t know a thing about it. Which probably means if I get caught, I’m on my own and she’ll pretend she had no idea.”
“That’s kinda cool.” Knowing Mrs. Peris approved of Haze coming here all the time, made me feel a little better about being in her classroom at night. At least I didn’t feel I was violating her sanctuary.
He swung his doctor’s bag from his shoulder and opened the zipper. “Hold this while I fill it?”
I nodded and did what I was told, moving with him into the closet. He took a bunch of spray paints down from one of the topmost shelves and tossed them into the bag. I also saw him grab a couple of pieces of plastic that looked like straws.
“What are those for?”
“They fit on the end of the sprayer and add precision.”
“I don’t think I’ll be very precise tonight.”
He laughed lightly and zipped up the bag, sliding the strap over his shoulder again. “Don’t worry. A kindergartener could do what I’m going to ask you to do tonight.”
“Great, now there’s pressure.”
He shut me up with a quick kiss to my mouth, and then, as if deciding he liked it, he kissed me again, and again, until he tugged me into him and gave me the good kind of kiss. The kind worth getting arrested for.
I moaned and hugged his waist.
The whole situation gave me such a rush. I was in the school after hours, having climbed in through a window, and I was making out with my enemy boyfriend.
As we snuck back out the window a few moments later, I couldn’t help but think adrenaline junkies had nothing on me.
***
We spent a couple of hours skulking around Three Rivers Academy territory without finding the newest bloated image of me Warp said he’d seen the night before.
“You know, it’s possible my brother was just full of shit. Or it was put up on a building that had the money to get it removed right away.”
The slump of his shoulders corrected slightly when he shrugged. “I guess. It bugs me, though. If it’s not a flattering piece of you, I don’t want it hanging around town.”
“Yeah me either. I’ll ask Surge tomorrow and see if he’ll tell me where it is. I don’t want to spend any more time looking, though. You were supposed to be showing me some tagging hotness.”
“Well I was planning on showing you the ‘hotness’ once I got rid of whatever your brother said he saw. I didn’t plan on it taking so long and dragging you with me.”
“Lies!” I grinned. “You just didn’t want to be alone. It’s okay if you’re scared and wanted me to walk with you.”
He nudged me and I laughed.
“Yeah, ask Surge. If it’s out there, we’ll find it soon enough.”
I wanted to change the subject. Our night had been fun, running around a good chunk of our side of the city, but the truth of what we were looking for weighed us down. I wanted to get back to the fun side of our relationship.
“So what would you like to do with me tonight?” I purposefully loaded the question to get a smile and a topic-change. It worked.
“I had a cool idea the other day, and I thought maybe you could help me with it.”
“Sure,” I said. “What do you need?”
Tugging me into the nearby alley, he looked up and down the walls like a portrait artist might a blank canvas. Though the street lights gave off enough light to see well enough, he took his flashlight from his cargo pants pocket and searched the shadows.
“We need to find the perfect spot. If we put it too close to the street, someone will clear it within a day. I want it to last longer than that.”
“You want what to last longer, Mr. Cryptic?”
Grinning all proud of himself, he jerked his bag off his shoulder and set it on the ground, squatting over it. The flashlight illuminated a piece of trash as he set it aside so he could unzip his bag.
“See? Now we’re getting to the good stuff.” I clapped my hands together and rubbed them against each other all sinister-villain-like. After putting the little straw thingy on the end of the nozzle, he gave it a couple of shakes and handed the spray paint to me.
I noticed the green-colored dot on the can’s label. “Your favorite color,” I said, remembering our closet conversation.
“Mmhm. And this—”
he took out another can and repeated the process before holding it into the flashlight’s stream, “—is yours.”
I felt the muscles in my cheeks bunch with a blush. “Yup. I’m a huge fan of yellow. I remember this one time, I painted a wall in my room yellow with finger paint.”
He picked up the flashlight and his bag and walked with me toward the back of the alley. “I bet that was fun to clean up.”
“Who said I cleaned it up?”
The way his mouth moved around a smile was pure magic. I hoped I never stopped amusing him.
“Stand up against the wall right there,” he commanded, and when I pointedly stood still he added, “please.”
My hoodie stuck to the bricks behind me, so I knew I was pretty close to the wall. He handed me a face mask and motioned for me to put it on. I could feel my breath create moisture against my mouth, and couldn’t help but wonder if the sides of my mouth would have red marks and make me look funny after I took it off.
“Press up against the wall and hold still.”
“Um, why?”
He laughed. “Trust me. Close your eyes and hold your breath when you feel me around your head, all right? You have a mask on, but no reason to breathe when I’m that close to your noggin anyway.”
Trust is a hard thing for me, but I took a deep breath and held myself still as the hiss of the paint can came near one ear and then another. He positioned my arms down to my side with my right angled slightly outward and then continued to trace my body.
“Okay,” he said, releasing me.
I stepped away from the wall and grinned at the child-like outline of me in yellow on the wall. “That looks awesome.”
“Now take your can and do me.”
“Do you, huh?” I bit my lip and played on the sexual innuendo.
“Well if you want that,” he paused, letting my mind wonder about what he’d say next, “you’re going to have to wait. I’m just not that kind of guy.”
“Uh huh.” I laughed.
Once he was in position, I gave him the mask and traced his body like he had mine, with a few minor mishaps until I came to his left hand. “Your hand is going to overlap with mine.”
One of his eyes popped open and glanced at me. “That’s the idea, Manu.”
“Oh.” Well wasn’t I just a dumbass?
I finished spraying around his hand and down his leg. “Okay, you’re done. I think I got too close a few times and got some on your clothes.”
He stepped away from the wall and turned to look at our hand-holding outlines, pulling the mask off his head. “That’s why I told you to wear something you didn’t mind losing. Just be careful getting back to your room. Don’t let your brother see you or he won’t believe the gymnastics excuse.”
I nodded absently.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
Words didn’t come right away. I could only stare at the sugary sweetness that was our painted bodies immortalized on the wall. Or…temporarily immortalized. Chances were good someone would eventually paint over or remove our little drawings, but the fact they were once there would be enough for me.
“This is—really cool, Bren.”
Grinning at me, he switched paint cans and took off the extensions. “Since you like yellow so much, why don’t you paint a sun?”
“Um. Tracing is one thing, but—”
“Oh, come on. Just hold the paint can a little away from the wall and draw like you’re five again. We’re not trying to impress anyone. Just have fun.”
“Okay,” I jerked the mask out of his hand as he held it out to me. “But if you laugh, I can’t be held responsible when I kick your ass.”
The sound of his laugh echoed in the alley, Haze-in-stereo style. Kinda neat. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
With a nod, I aimed my paint can and tried to draw a circle. I choked at the bottom of it and it dripped a little. “Yikes.”
“Sun has rays. That’s an easy cover.”
The thrill of doing something different than usual felt nice. Doing it while being next to Haze felt even nicer. I painted a few lines out from my circle and filled in the center, stepping back to see what I’d done once I finished. So I wouldn’t be an artist, but it wasn’t too bad. With a little bit of practice I could probably tag with some of the weaker crews.
I glanced over to see what Haze was doing and laughed. “Wow, that’s interesting.”
The trunk of the tree was obvious, what with a little hole in the center for squirrels; its big branches were shaky but they worked. Once he started spraying in smaller branches and twigs…he had a hot mess.
The can of paint dangled from his fingers in defeat. “Yeah. People, buildings, flowers, I can do all that. Ask me to draw an oak and I choke.”
“Oo. Rhyme time.”
We both laughed. Haze took the can of paint and the mask from me and dropped both into his bag. Looping his arm through mine, he pulled me closer to him.
“I guess I’ll leave the hippie crap to Decay.”
I looked at his mouth. “Guess so.”
“I just want you to know, if I’m going to do a tribute to you, to us, I’d make it personal, and for you and me alone. I’d never risk what we’ve got until I could be sure it was safe for everyone to know.”
“Oh, I know that.”
“Are you sure?” When I nodded, he smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Good. When everyone knows, I’ll make a huge mural, to show the world that you’re mine. And I’ll paint the true beauty of you, Manu.”
Sixteen
“You’re not nearly that fat,” Surge said, looking sideways at the infamous bloated piece of me Warp had told Haze and me about.
“Gee, thanks, Surge.” I elbowed him in the ribs and touched the art to see if it was tacky.
“How did your brother find this? I don’t think we’ve been down here on a run yet.”
“He probably heard it through the thug-line or stumbled on it.” I stepped back again to survey my sprayed image. The edges of the piece seemed a little sharper, the swirl of paint in the background a little sloppy. My face…stretched and some unfinished cracks, or twigs or something, looked like they were going to poke me in the eye. The writer must’ve been in a rush or methed out. “You know, this isn’t very flattering. I look kinda…piggish.”
“Maybe it was dark. Or they sniffed a little too much paint, yanno? If they did this at night I’d still say it’s impressive, but as a depiction of the fine Lady of the Ledge, it’s way foul.” He threw off his backpack and rummaged around for a flavored water.
All morning we had combed TRA territory looking for the giant “LL re-creation” Warp claimed to have found night before last. The one Haze and I had searched for all night last night and couldn’t find. If we’d gone one more street over, we’d have found it.
The sun burned high noon before Surge and I stumbled on my graffiti-stalker love-note. Now that we saw it, I wished we hadn’t.
“So, now what?”
He swirled some water around in his mouth and spit it out. “This is your show, girl. I think we have to recognize the skills and admit someone was trying to make you look unfine, so it’s up to you. You wanna get some supplies and erase it?”
“Why? Whoever it is will only make another one. At least I know where this one is. And it’s on the side of a building long dead. I’m guessing if we erase it, the next one will look even worse.”
“Throw in some yellow zits and crossed-eyes type deal?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it.” I sighed and put my back against the brick. “I’m trying not to let everything get to me but…”
“I know, baby girl.” He ambled over and slid his arm between my neck and the wall, giving my shoulders a squeeze. “We’ll figure out what’s what.”
We were quiet for a bit. And I couldn’t be sure what
he was thinking but I suspected it ran along the same lines as what I contemplated. How do you get an unknown graffiti artist off your back?
“You just gotta react the opposite way of what they want.”
I nodded.
Surge straightened, dragging his arm out from around me. “I’ve got an idea.”
***
A can of black paint, a black eye-liner pencil, and an hour later, we were back at the graffiti crime scene.
“I feel dumb,” I admitted.
Surge tapped the side of my face, the black eye-liner poised near my nose. “Quit moving or I’m going to color in a few teeth on accident.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I just don’t know if I can do this.”
“Look, you gotta pretend this shit is funny to you, LL. They want you to take it serious, so if you don’t, they’ll move onto another target they can bully.”
“Or I’ll come off to the entire school looking like an idiot.”
“Pfft. You’re friends with me. Everyone in the school already knows you’re an idiot for that alone, girl.” He scraped a few more pencil lines across my face and then stepped back.
“How does it look?” I asked.
“Like you’re mocking the improvements I made to your character!”
I looked over at the mustache he’d painted on the wall image of me and grinned. Other than holding the can too close, making some of the black paint ooze down the front of my artsy face, he did a decent job.
“Now go stand next to it!”
“Yanno, I think we violated an ethical code about adding to someone else’s masterpiece.”
Surge grinned and held up his camera phone. “If they were trying to be accurate, then I’d hardly call that shit work a ‘piece.’ Okay now, blow out. Try to make yourself look fat. Yeah…yeah. Awesome!”
Surge took the picture and sent it to my phone—as well as everyone else’s. The whole of Three Rivers would have my funky photo in an hour.
“Oh God, I feel sick.”
“You’ll be fine. Everyone will laugh and have a good time with it thinking you’re goofing around. Except the artist.”
