I walk home and before I go inside I grab my art bag and last suitcase from the car. I keep smiling, Matthew is really cute. He seemed to like me, I mean, he invited me into his house. If he didn't like me, then he wouldn't have invited me, right?
Maybe he's a serial killer. Oh don't be stupid. I roll my eyes to myself and haul my bags upstairs. Thankfully I spaced my clothes out between two large duffle bags so the only heavy bag is the one filled with half empty bottles of paint and nearly destroyed paint brushes.
I unpacks my clothes, somewhere between six thirty and seven Summer tells me it's my last chance to go party with her tonight. I wave goodbye to her and dig out my watercolors, a half decent brush, and a small canvas. I fill up a cup with water and go outside. It's beautiful, as always, and the sun is setting right onto the little lake. I smile and dip my brush into the water.
I hear music playing, and when I look over my shoulder I see Matthew outside on his deck. He has sunglasses on so I can't tell if he's sleeping or what; but the scene makes me smile. I turn back to my canvas and paint an outline of the sight before me. I decide to make the painting for Matthew, and draw a little outline of him sleeping on a lawn chair on the beach.
I look over and Matthew's smiling and waving at me. "Hey!"
"What are you doing?"
"Can I come over?"
I make a couple more little highlights in his little doppelgängers hair, then take a glance back up at him when he sits down next to me.
"You paint?" He asks me. Now that I can actually hear his voice, it's more softer than I would've thought. He has a really nice cologne on.
"Yeah, I'm going to college for it." I smile.
"Ooh, a college girl?" His eyes twinkle when he teases me. "How old are you?"
"Uh huh, so there's three years between us?" He counts out the years on his fingers, he shrugs a little then looks at the work in front of me. "Wow, that's really nice."
"Thanks." I say, an embarrassed smile forms on my lips and I bit my lower lip slightly. Nervous habit I can't break.
We sit and talk for the next hour or so, at some point Matthew invites me over to his house for dinner. His house is basically what every cliché guys house is. Clothes here and there, I can smell cigarette smoke, which surprises me a little; then there's a guitar on his couch.
"You play?" I ask in awe.
"Guitar? Yep." He says as he digs through his fridge.
"Could you maybe play a little?" I ask. He looks up at me and smiles. Without saying anything he walks over to the couch and sits down, I take a seat next to him and watch as he plays 'Therapy' by All Time Low.
"That's one of my favorite songs!" I say laughing. He nods and starts to sing, his voice is rough but beautiful. My jaw falls open, he needs to be a singer.
He finishes the song and smirks at me. "Back to dinner?"
"Yeah, sure, dude... you can sing." I say.
He smiles and looks down at his hands, wait, is he blushing? He seems to fumble for words but chokes out a nervous, "Thanks."
We cook a chicken parmesan pasta thing, and after that I fall asleep on the couch watching a cop drama.