Chapter 6

I sat in front of a blank canvas and closed my eyes. Painting, along with running, was a kind of therapy for me. Right now, I didn’t need any therapy. I just wanted to paint. More often than not I didn’t have anything in mind when I got into this type of mood. Usually I just sat down for a while in front of the canvas and let my mind wander.

That’s what I was doing right now. I sat there with a clear mind for a moment before I thought of yellow. I wasn’t sure what to do with the color my brain gave me, but I picked up a brush and got to work. I began blending color trying to come up with the same yellow I had seen in my mind. The moment I got it right, I knew what I was going to paint.

I put the yellow I’d constructed off to the side and got to work blending the right colors for everything else. The yellow would be last. Loxley made his way into the room and curled up at my feet. I gave him a pat on the head before starting on the painting. I zoned out of everything and focused only on the canvas. I don’t know how long I sat there before a ringing broke me out of my concentration.

“Hello?” I answered my phone without glancing down to look at who was calling.

“Gabrielle, it’s Patrick,” the voice on the other end greeted. I felt myself smile as I put the current brush I was using down and got up from my seat.

“Hey, Patrick, how are you?” I asked. I noted that it was mid-afternoon and I’d been in my “studio” for a few hours.

“Pretty good. How about you?” he returned.

“Really good. So what’s up?”

“I just wanted to check in. I felt kind of weird about how things ended Friday night.” I thought back to our conversation with Nathan. Lying to him hadn’t settled right with me either.

“For the record, I hate that we lied to Nathan about meeting to talk about you giving us tickets for the rest of the year,” I told him.

“Same here. I could tell that you were uneasy about the direction the conversation had gone when we talked about getting coffee, and it was the first thing that came to mind. I’m sorry I put you in that position.” I smiled at the apology, even though it was a completely unnecessary one.

“You don’t have to apologize. I just have a rule that I don’t discuss my personal life with students, that’s all. It was my mistake for bringing it up in the first place,” I explained.

“Well, I’ll remember that for future reference.” Future reference? That meant he wanted to see me again, right?

“You really don’t have to give us those tickets, you know. I feel like this whole situation put you into a tough spot and I would feel awful taking them over a mistake I made.”

“Nonsense. Every guy on the team is automatically given two tickets for every home game. If I didn’t give them to the two of you, they’d go unused and it would just be two empty seats in the stands. Take them,” he told me.

“Are you sure?” I wanted to double check, because it still seemed like an inconvenience to him.

“I’m positive, and if you ask me again, the answer will stay the same.” I smiled on my end of the receiver.

“Well, thank you then. I can’t even believe the amount of things you’ve done for Nathan and I in the two weeks we’ve known you. You must be some kind of saint.” I heard him laugh at the other end.

“I’m not sure anyone’s ever referred to me as a saint before,” he joked and I joined in the laughter.

“So how did your game go last night?” I asked, remembering that they’d gone on the road after the game Friday for another game.

“It wasn’t great, but thankfully our goalie played out of his mind and bailed us out a lot. We ended up winning in a shootout,” he told me.

“Well, at least you won, right?” He let out a small laugh.

“And I managed to score a goal too,” he added.

“Well, congratulations,” I said with a grin.

Patrick and I talked for a few more minutes before we hung up. I made my way back into the studio and sat down in front of the canvas with a smile on my face. I got back to work, funneling my emotion into my work. To say that the painting was altered from my original idea at that point wouldn’t be doing it justice.

The next day I went into work just like any other day, except I knew that Gia was supposed to be coming in today. She’d skipped out on her last two appointments with me. At this point I didn’t care what we talked about, I just wanted her to show up. I said a silent prayer that she would come in before I got started on my day.

When 11:00 rolled around and the bell rang, signaling students should be in class I sat tensely at my desk. Please come in, please come in. On cue there was a knock on my door. I got up and pulled it open, revealing Gia standing on the other side. She didn’t look happy about being here, but she was here.

“Hello, Gia,” I greeted her with a smile.

She gave me a forced smile in return and I walked over to the chair I used during meetings with students. I didn’t like to sit behind my desk, feeling like it made me seem too formal. She collapsed down on the couch opposite me with a sigh and crossed her arms over her chest.

“So how are you today?” I asked. She rolled her eyes before responding.

“Fine.” I’d expected that response. It was the only response she ever gave me when I met with her.

“Good. So what’s going on in school?” I usually started off meetings with her like that. Talking about school at least gave us something to converse about before I tried to get her to open up.

“Not much. I have a math test coming up,” she offered. She looked none to pleased about that test either.

“Ooh, math. Math was never my strong point,” I admitted truthfully.

“It’s stupid. What’s the point?” she complained. I thought for a moment before answering, afraid of saying something to anger her.

“Well, I think it’s to prepare everyone. You never know what career you might fall into, so giving everyone all the basics in every subject helps when people make decisions about that. That way they have the building blocks to get started in their chosen specialty.” She made a face.

“And in what career would I need to know about obtuse and acute angles?” she questioned. I gave her a small smile, knowing my answer would only annoy her.

“Engineering. It’s pretty important to know the right angles when you build something, otherwise it wouldn’t work properly,” I responded.

“Well, I’m not going to be an engineer.”

“What do you want to be?” She remained silent at that question. Instead of responding she looked down at her feet and picked at her cuticles. I realized that I was getting as far as I would with that topic and decided to change it up. “Is anything else going on?”

“No,” she replied curtly. She was hiding something, and I could tell. She was fidgeting far too much not to be. Even so, I didn’t want to push.

“Well, we still have some time left. What would you like to talk about? Anything is fine. Your choice.” I always asked her that hoping that anything she gave me would help me understand her.

“I just want to go back to study hall.”

When she said that, she ran a hand through her hair. Her left sleeve was shoved down just enough in the process for me to see that there was a bandage on her arm. It wasn’t on her wrist which signaled to me that she hadn’t been trying to commit suicide, but was most likely cutting, and recently. My heart ached, but I knew better than to push her about it right now. If I pushed her before I’d gained her trust, I’d lose her forever.

“You can do that in a minute. We’re almost done. Why don’t you tell me about photography? I heard you’re taking that this year,” I prodded. Photography was an elective in school, and I knew that only students that cared about it took it. Most students would rather have a study hall over another class.

“It’s alright, I guess,” she replied, trying to be nonchalant about it. Even so, I could see the twinkle in her eyes for just a moment. It didn’t last long, but it was there long enough for me to see that there was something positive in her life.

“You know, I never did have the creative eye for photography. It amazes me sometimes to see the work some photographers can produce.” Gia shrugged.

“It’s not difficult really. You just have to look around you and find something that moves you. Sometimes it’s people, and sometimes it’s just the formation of rocks. You never know what will touch you,” she explained to me. It was the most she’d ever said to me before. I smiled over at her.

“I’ve heard a lot of photographers bring their cameras with them everywhere they go. Do you do that?” I asked. She shrugged again.

“Sometimes. I try to if I can, but I really need a better camera before I can take anything worthwhile.” I decided to press my luck with the newfound openness.

“You sound like you really love it. Have you ever thought about making photography your career?” I watched her shut down right in front of me. Her body language changed drastically and the look on her face turned to a scowl. She didn’t respond. Someday I wanted to find out why she refused to talk about her future.

“Can I go now?” she finally asked a minute later. I smiled over at her and nodded.

“Yeah, sure. Let me write you a pass.”

I filled out a pass for her to head back to her study hall and watched her walk out of my office. It was discouraging to know that a teenager outright refused to talk about her future. That was never a good sign, especially connected with one who cut themselves. Despite that, I felt like I’d won a small victory. I’d finally discovered something that she loved. When they still had something they cared about, there was always a chance to help them.