Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective Book 2)

by Brooke St. James

  I closed the door, and almost instantly, I heard a few light knocks. I opened the door a few inches, staring out of the crack. "Is there anything going on with you and Drake?"

  I shook my head. "No, why?"

  "I was just making sure. Do you have some other boyfriend? Is there anyone else?"

  I had to work to hold back a smile. "No," I said.

  "Good."

  I stuck my tongue out at him playfully. "You do, so it doesn't really matter, now does it?"

  "I know, but it's still good that you don't," Joe said. He smiled and nudged his chin at me as he started off toward his room. "Night," he said.

  "Night." I closed the door behind me, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Joe looked at me like a man looked at a woman when he wanted to be more than her friend. I had never been the recipient of this type of look from Joe, and it took my breath away just thinking about it. I struggled for a few seconds to get my breathing regulated once I heard him walk away.

  I spent the next little while replying to texts and emails I had missed and watching some TV to wind down, but it had been an extremely full day, and sleep found me within the hour.

  ***

  I knew we were leaving for the airport at noon the following day, so the next morning when I woke up, I just stayed in my room, getting dressed and making sure I had everything packed.

  Mrs. Steiner was well aware of our departure situation, and she came by my room at 10am with a cart offering tea, coffee, and several different types of breakfast pastries.

  It was just before noon when I came downstairs to meet everyone else. I was dressed long before that, but I was reluctant about seeing Joe, so I stayed in my room for longer than I wanted to. By the time I got downstairs, everyone was already milling about, getting their luggage into vehicles. It was all a bit of a hurried blur. There were lots of us trying to get out the door, so there were always several conversations going on at once.

  I knew from overhearing some other people talk that Drake had printed some photographs that everyone had been looking at. I didn't make it downstairs in time to look through them before we left, but I knew I would be sitting next to Drake on the plane so I would be able to see them then.

  Mr. Spicer got held up at customs when one of the officers approached him about getting his daughter on a television show, but otherwise we made it to our flight easily. We had the same seating arrangements as we did on the way there, so Drake sat by the window, I sat in the middle, and Emily sat near the aisle. We made surface-level conversation with each other while we went through the process of taking off, but once we were in the air, at cruising altitude, Drake dug in his bag and pulled out the stack of photographs. They were smaller than I expected—maybe 3x5 or so.

  "These are so cute," I said, looking at the first one, which was Sarah running down the staircase with her wedding dress in her hands and her red converse shining in their full glory. I studied it closely, trying to see all the beautiful details.

  "They're from that little printer I carry with me," Drake said. "I only have one size option, and I only had eighty sheets with me."

  I turned over the stack, measuring the thickness of eighty pictures and smiling at the way they shifted in my hand. "I need a little printer like this," I said. "These are so cute." I switched to the next photo and then glanced at Drake with a smile. "I guess it helps that your photos are this beautiful."

  Drake dusted off his shoulder, making me laugh and bump him with my shoulder before staring down at the pictures again. It took what must've been an hour or so for me to get through them. I inspected each one carefully, talking to Drake and Emily about them and remembering scenes from the wedding.

  One of them was taken at the pub, and I got a longing feeling when I saw all of us sitting around the tables, waving and smiling. I found myself in the picture and then Joe, and I remembered the splinter and all the dancing that took place after it was taken. That one was the last picture in the stack, and I smiled as I handed them back to Drake.

  "Did you see that one of you and Joe at the pub?" he asked. "The one with the splinter."

  "No."

  "Are you sure? The one where you were turned away, trying not to look," he said.

  I shook my head. I knew I had looked at them carefully, and I hadn't seen anything like he was describing. I would have definitely remembered that. "Unless two of them were stuck together," I said.

  Chapter 9

  Drake proceeded to go through the photographs one-by-one, trying to find the picture of me getting the splinter removed at the pub. He went through them two times, checking to make sure none were stuck together like I had said.

  "Everybody's been passing them around," Emily said. "Maybe a few got left behind."

  Drake leaned over me to stare at Emily, who was obviously aware of our predicament since we were sitting right next to her. "I'm gonna count them," Drake said, like the idea had just dawned on him.

  We were all quiet as he placed picture after picture on his lap, counting in his head. "Seventy-eight, seventy-nine!" he said triumphantly. He shook his head. "I had eighty—four packs of twenty, and I used them all. I know exactly what picture's missing because I wasn't even planning on printing any of them from the pub. Those two were so sweet that I had to." Drake paused and showed me the one with all of us sitting around the tables. "I'm even in this one," he said.

  I stared at the photo, locating Drake in the back with a big smile. I looked at myself and at Joe, realizing that we were on opposite ends of the photo. It had been taken before I went to the restroom and got the splinter, and I remembered back to the whole chain of events.

  "I'm so glad you finally got in one of them," I said after taking a few seconds to look at it again before I handed it back to Drake.

  "Yeah, but I had another one from the pub," he said.

  Emily leaned in. "I saw that one this morning," she said. "It showed us all gathered around the table watching Eli work on your hand. That's funny. I wonder why it's not in there." Emily held out her hand, and Drake handed her the pictures. She went through them quickly, only searching for the missing one.

  "It's not in there," Drake said. "There's seventy-nine, and there used to be eighty." He sat up in his seat, leaning over me and stretching to try to see toward the front of the plane. "Hang on a second," he said, talking to no one in particular. "I'll be back in a minute." He got up, giving Emily and me no other choice but to let him get by.

  "Where are you going?" I asked.

  "I'll be right back," he whispered, not answering my question.

  "Where's he going?" Emily asked dazedly as we both watched Drake walk toward the front of the plane. He stopped a little ways up and knelt down next to a row of seats. My heart pounded as I sat there, speculating that he was talking to Joe.

  "What's he doing?" I asked Emily since she had a better vantage point than I did.

  "He's talking to somebody."

  "Who?"

  "It might be Eli and Joe and them. I think that's Rebecca on the aisle seat."

  I sat back and sighed, wondering what in the world Drake was saying. He was gone for another minute, which seemed like an eternity. He smiled on his way back to our row, but his smile changed to a somewhat regretful look as he got closer.

  "What?" I whispered when he finally sat down. "What was that?"

  "I went to see if any of them had that picture," he said.

  "Any of who?"

  "Joe," he said. "You know, Joe and Eli and them." He plopped his head onto the headrest, peering at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

  "What happened?" I asked, feeling insane with curiosity.

  He smiled and shook his head distractedly.

  "Drake, what?"

  "He has it."

  "Who?"

  "Joe," he said.

  "The picture?"

  He nodded.

  "So, where is it?"

  He shook his head. "He wouldn't give it to me."

  "How do y
ou know he has it?" I asked.

  "Because I walked up there and asked him if he had it, and he said 'yes'."

  "So, where is it?"

  "He wouldn't give it to me."

  "Did you ask him to give it to you?"

  Drake nodded.

  "And he said 'no'?"

  "Yes," Drake said simply.

  "Did you really?"

  Drake nodded.

  "What happened exactly?"

  "I kneeled down by their row. Joe was sitting way by the window. I asked him if he had the picture of Eli taking that splinter out of your hand, and he said 'yes'. So, I told him I wanted to show it to you, and could I please have it back, and he said 'no'."

  Drake stopped talking, but I just stared at him.

  "And that's all you said?"

  "No, I asked him if he was serious or joking, and he assured me he wanted to keep it and had no plans to give it back. He took the picture out of his back pocket along with a wad of cash. I thought he was going to hand me the picture, but he handed me a hundred-dollar-bill instead. He said I could buy more photo paper with that and make a new one."

  My eyes got wide. "What'd you say?"

  Drake shrugged. "I took the cash," he said. His hand had been balled up in a fist, but he opened it, revealing the hundred-dollar-bill on the inside.

  "Did Joe give you a hundred dollars for that picture?" Emily asked, leaning forward to talk to Drake.

  He opened his hand to show her the bill as he nodded.

  "Why?" she asked with a confused expression.

  Drake shrugged and shook his head before looking at me. "I have no clue," he said, staring straight at me like I knew something and wasn't admitting it. "He said if you wanted to see it, you could come ask him yourself."

  I blinked at him. "He said that?"

  Drake nodded and showed me the money again before putting it in his pocket. "I guess it's his now, so he doesn’t have to give it to me if he doesn't want to."

  "What if I buy it for two?" I asked.

  "Two hundred?" Drake asked, looking at me like I was crazy.

  "One fifty," I said.

  "You don't have one-fifty," he said.

  I squinted at him. "Yes I do. I have one-fifty on me."

  "Not to spend on a little picture worth seventy-two cents. I'll just print you another one."

  I started digging in my bag for a piece of sketch paper. My preferred medium was charcoal on paper, but I could work with pencil or pen, and I always carried a few travel supplies around with me.

  I made a quick sketch of an auction scene with a girl yelling "$150!" in a word bubble. I drew the auctioneer's bubble saying, "We have a winner!" I made a caption at the bottom that said:

  "Thank you for your bid, but I am giving Drake $150 for the photo. Here you will find your full refund. Please pass the photo back to 26B."

  It took me about thirty minutes to illustrate and do the lettering, but I was pleased with the outcome. It was cute, and I smiled down at it as I read over it one last time.

  "I'm not giving that refund," Drake said, looking at it as I held it out for inspection. He had been dozing off while I worked on it, but he woke up and stirred right when I finished.

  "I'm seriously gonna give you the one-fifty," I said.

  Drake shook his head. "That's a rad drawing and all, but I'm not letting you give me a hundred and fifty dollars of your money for that little picture… and I'm not giving Joe's money back. God knows he doesn't need it."

  I shrugged. "You don't have to give anything back," I said. "I'm sending a hundred bucks of my own. I already planned on doing that."

  I folded the paper strategically, enclosing the hundred-dollar-bill I had already dug out of my purse. I was so glad I happened to have that on me.

  "You're not giving that to him," Drake said. "I'm not letting you. I'll just go ask for the picture back."

  "You can't without giving him his money back," I said.

  Drake looked deflated when that thought occurred to him. "Oh yeah," he said.

  "It's fine. I didn't pay for anything in Ireland. Plus, I think it's fun to send a note on an airplane. The entertainment alone is worth the money."

  I had already written, "Please deliver to the man in 19F," on the outside of the paper, and I held it up that instant because I knew a flight attendant was walking by. She scooped it up, reading it as she continued to walk. I watched as she glanced back at me with a wink before turning to deliver the note to Joe.

  "I can't believe you just did that," Drake said, peering over the seats to watch her. "You need to go get that back."

  "Just let me try to make him give me the picture," I said since I really did want to see it.

  We watched for a minute, but we couldn't see anything, so Drake relaxed in his chair, and so did I. There was a movie playing on the back of each headrest, and we spaced out, staring straight ahead. I figured Emily would tell me if she saw any action down the aisle.

  Drake had drifted back to sleep, and I was absentmindedly watching the movie when the flight attendant came up to me, carrying a homemade paper pouch that had been fashioned with a few sheets from the Skymall magazine. She handed it to me, and I stared at her in confusion when I realized what it was made from. She smiled and shrugged, obviously not worried about the vandalism since the man who handed it to her was most likely Joe, and could therefore charm his way out of anything.

  She walked away, and I opened the pouch, fully expecting to find the photograph when I looked inside.

  "Shut the front door," Emily whispered when I opened the paper to find multiple hundred dollar bills. There was also a small piece of paper, but there was neither the photograph nor the drawing I had sent his way.

  "Nu-uh! How much money is that?" Drake asked.

  "What's the note say?" Emily asked.

  They both leaned in, trying to get a better look. Before counting the money, I turned over the paper. There was a hand-written note that had been written on a pad from Eli's medical office.

  "Here's Drake's money back plus a hundred more for him. That makes two hundred for the picture. Sorry, but I outbid you. Also, I am keeping that drawing, so that's what the rest of the money is about."

  I looked down and thumbed through the bills, realizing there were three, one-hundred-dollar bills stacked on top of each other in a neatly folded stack. I glanced at Drake, and the two of us locked eyes for a second.

  "He's not giving us all this," I said.

  "It looks like he is," he said. He reached out and pointed at the bottom of the note, which said, "And please don't try to outbid me again. I'm keeping this picture."

  I sat there with the note and the money in my hand for at least two minutes while Drake and Emily talked about how outlandish the whole thing was. I had never been in a situation like this one and wasn't quite sure how to handle it. I knew we couldn't keep the money.

  Several minutes had passed when Joe got out of his seat and began walking toward the back of the plane. He glanced my way once he got closer to our row, and I made eye contact with him for a split-second before glancing away. I stared at the seatback for a few seconds before I looked at him again. His gaze was still aimed at me. His expression was completely unreadable as he walked past my row, glancing at my lap, which still contained the open envelope with the note and the money.

  Emily, Drake, and I were all quiet until Joe had already taken a few steps past us.

  "He was looking at you," Emily said.

  I turned to get a peek at Joe from over my shoulder without commenting on her observation.

  "I'm gonna go give this back to him," I said.

  "Not the hundred that's yours," Drake said, reminding me as I stood up to follow Joe to the back of the plane.

  I held onto the money, note, and magazine pages as I headed down the aisle. Apparently, the restroom was occupied because Joe stopped in front of the door before stepping back to lean against the opposite wall. He caught sight of me when he turned, and he shot
me a surprised smile.

  "Hey," I said.

  "Hey yourself."

  I held out the money. "I wanted to come bring you this," I said, handing him the full three hundred without reimbursing myself. (I wasn't even certain whose was what or what was whose by that point.)

  "I don't want it," he said, pushing my hand away by my wrist. "I want the picture and the drawing."

  Someone came out of the restroom at that moment, and we shifted so that she could make her way past us.

  "Can I see it, at least?"

  He gave me a coy smile. "I don't know why you want it so bad." He reached into his back pocket and came up with the small photograph, holding it in front of me.

  I took it from him, staring down at the shot of us all gathered around the table with Eli working on my hand. Joe was clearly holding me. His posture looked protective, and his expression was full of sweet concern.

  My eyes came up to meet his after several seconds of staring at it. "I don't know why you want this," I said, repeating his words back to him.

  He reached out and snatched it from me. "Because I do," he said, putting it back into his pocket.

  I tried once more to give him the money, but again, he pushed my hand away.

  "I know you weren't trying to hear anything about this last night when I brought it up, but you should know I talked to Chelsea."

  I put my hand in the air, closing my eyes. "You really don't need to…" I interrupted, feeling already sick at the sound of her name.

  "I ended things, Lu."

  I stood there feeling speechless, and he gave me a patient half-smile.

  "I'm not assuming things are gonna turn out one way or another with us, Lu. But I did end things with her. That was just something I needed to do."

  I was trying to think of the right thing to say when the flight attendant walked by and informed us that the restroom was unoccupied.

  "I don't want this," I whispered, offering Joe the wad of paper once again.

  "Too bad," he said, avoiding my hand and then pushing it back toward me as he stepped into the restroom.

  He smiled at me before he closed the door, and rather than stand there and wait for a restroom I didn't need to use, I walked numbly to my seat.