Perfectly Hopeless (6 page)

“
Hi.” She whispered, looking at his family nearby all around the dining room table. Henri quickly scraped his food into the trash and placed his dish in the dishwater.

“
Hi.” He whispered back, amused she was being so cautious as if she snuck in. He leaned in, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. Her hair grazing his nose, she smelled of lilac shampoo.

“
Where do you want to do this?”

“
Wow, how forward of you.” They both laughed. “I prefer the bedroom, but wherever you like.”

Maven’s cheeks were hot from his flirty intimation. She followed Henri up the old staircase, looking at all the family photos that lined the green wallpaper, the floor beneath them beautiful wood. He opened the first door on the left switching on a light.

Maven looked around at the average sized bedroom. A bed in one corner with tousled sheets, the comforter practically on the floor hanging on for dear life, in one corner sat a wooden writing table with a pile of books on top of it. On the other side of the room was a big window with a window seat, with an assortment of pillows situated on top of the bench. She stared at the walls, a number of posters showcased.
Pink Floyd, Aerosmith, The Doors.

Henri opened the closet next to his desk. He pulled out a suitcase. Inside were a few blank canvases. He took one out as well as some black paint and a paintbrush.

“
Sit over there.” He told her, pointing to the window seat. She did as he asked. Watching him gather his supplies and sit down across from her on the opposite end. He drew up one knee, resting his back against the pillows. And quickly he went to work.

“
Should I pose?”

Henri shook his head. “Do whatever you want.”

She stayed still, only moving her eyes to get a better look at Henri’s bedroom. His personal space, the place he probably stored all his memories in. “What’s that on your dresser?”

Henri stopped what he was doing. He handed over the paintbrush and retrieved the large leather bound book. It was by far bigger than any book she had ever seen.

“
Those are all my paintings.” He took the paintbrush back handing over the book.

“
Wow, Henri.”

“
Everything I’ve ever drawn is in that book,” Henri explained. He started back on his latest work of art while Maven looked at his old work.

Maven now understood his technique. Everything he painted was in black. But his work didn’t need color. It spoke volumes devoid of fancy blues or reds or any shade in between. It was beyond her wildest imagination. Henri painted a world of optimism where maybe someone else saw none.

A distorted setting of old buildings with a gorgeous young woman in the center of all the disarray, but even amidst all that was tragic her face held a loveliness that made you overlook the pain all around her.

Maven looked up from the picture. “Why?” She turned the painting toward Henri. He barely looked at it, busily working on the portrait of Maven.

“
I was young. That’s the way I saw life back then.”

“
But I don’t get it. Explain this to me. To me it’s beautiful.”

Henri nodded. “It is. Life is dreadful, but that doesn’t take away from what we all are. I guess that’s what I was trying to capture.”

She closed the book. “Well, I think you captured it.”

Henri looked at her puzzled. “You don’t want to look at anymore?”

“
I do. But I want to be the very best subject matter.” She leaned against the pillows, adjusting her hair so it fell perfectly against her exposed shoulders. Henri smiled behind the canvas. More than anything he just loved looking at her. He could paint her without her being in the same room. He remembered every inch of her.

“
It will be the best.” He squeezed out some more paint on the scrap of paper he was using.

Twenty minutes later Henri’s painting was nearing completion. Maven was stiff and growing restless, but she knew whatever Henri was doing behind the canvas was worth the wait. She watched out the window at the roving dog by the pond. The flurry of birds as they headed for the trees, as well as the orange sun setting off in the distance, it was beautiful.

She imagined Henri probably sat in the window a lot. If she were him she would. Being around Henri was peaceful. It was easy and uncomplicated. She looked at Henri, his head bowed, the soft swipes on the canvas singing a tune. His eyebrows furrowed together. He was serious when he painted.

“
Tell me about your life in Tennessee.” She blurted. She sat up a little, crossing her legs Indian style and folding her hands in her lap.

Henri peered over the canvas, his brown eyes connecting with hers. “What do you want to know?”

“
What kind of boy were you in high school?” She was trying to imagine Henri surrounded by a crowd of students, him being one of them. It was hard to know who he fit in with. What drove him, even what kind of grades he got? Did he have a girlfriend back at home? Or was he the sort to secretly admire you from afar? She wanted to know everything.

“
I played baseball.”

“
What position?”

“
Shortstop.”

“
What else?”

Henri scratched his nose, smearing paint on himself, but he was none the wiser. Maven cracked an amused grin.

“
What’s so funny? You don’t like shortstops?”

“
No. It’s your face.” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hands, but that wasn’t enough to contain the sudden fit of laughter. Henri rolled his eyes. He sat the canvas down and got up.

“
It’s my face.” He headed to his closet, pulling open the door and looking in the mirror. “God. I thought you were calling me ugly.”

Maven stopped laughing. He seemed serious. He seemed sad even. She rose to her feet.

“
No. I wasn’t saying that at all.” She wiped the paint away with her fingers, rubbing it into her shorts. “See, it’s all gone.”

Henri grabbed her hand. “We do have washcloths. Now look at your shorts.”

Maven shook her head. “They come clean. It’s not a big deal.” She pushed her hair behind her ear nervously. Something Henri was familiar with. He could tell the minute she was judging herself, when she was feeling insecure

He wanted to kiss her. To take her face in his hands and plant the best kiss he ever gave a girl in his life on her lips. He wasn’t sure if he had the courage or the confidence to go through with it. But he was going to try.

He moved in, his hands succeeding at finding her face. He closed his eyes as soon as his lips met hers. The sweet smell of her hair entered his nose as he grew even more certain and let the moment grow a little more in intensity.

Henri’s fingers slid past her jawbone and down her neck.

Maven took a breath, pulling away long enough to understand that what was happening was true. She met up again with Henri’s lips. They were soft and gentle with just enough power to make her head spin and her heart stir. He didn’t have to try to hard because he knew what he was doing and how to do it.

There they stood in the middle of Henri’s room sharing the most amazing kiss of each of their lives.

They broke apart. Henri’s heart was pounding. His head was spinning and he could still taste her strawberry lip-gloss on his tongue. Every single part of his body was throbbing and on fire. He wanted more, but he wasn’t going to push it.

“
I need to sit down.” Maven said first. She took a seat on his bed, dazed and confused. She never felt anything like it before. Not even when she kissed Jake. She concentrated on her knees, taking in huge breaths.

Henri sat down next to her. “Are you alright?” He had never seen a person hyperventilate after kissing him. He wondered if it was a bad sign.

“
Just feeling a little dizzy.” She touched her forehead, laughing it off.

“
Sometimes when I feel that way I just lay down.” He threw his hands up. “I swear I’m not trying to get you in my bed.”

Maven laughed. “I don’t think that at all.” She laid back, letting out a sigh as she stared up at the ceiling. “Much better.”

Henri took a seat at the end of the bed. “Great. I thought I failed for a second.”

Maven patted the spot next to her. “Failed?”

“
I don’t know bad reaction to a horrible kiss.” He laid down beside her, arms behind his head.

“
There was nothing horrible about it.” She drew in her bottom lip, thinking about it all over again. “It was perfect.”

They fell asleep to the sound of crickets chirping below his window. Until the sun was nothing but a distant memory and his room was filled with darkness, with only the moonlight shining through the window.

Maven rolled over, a bit confused, trying to make sense of where she was. It took a couple of seconds to realize she was in Henri’s bedroom. She sat up in the dark, her eyes barely adjusting to her surroundings.

“
Henri.” She whispered. She patted the bed, trying to find him in the dark. Suddenly her hand touched something damp. She pulled back startled. And then grew curious and touched it again, rubbing her fingers together to make sense of it. She felt some more until she ran into Henri’s head. She used her other hand to touch his hair, finding her way to his shoulder to shake him.

“
Henri.” She called out. “Henri, I can’t find the light. I’m worried it’s really late.”

When he didn’t answer she grew concerned. She cautiously guided herself to the end of the bed and very carefully inch by inch found her way to where she remembered his closet and desk was. She held onto the desk, running her hand along the wall until she bumped into the light switch, at last the room filled with light.

Maven gasped, her hand was bloody. She immediately checked the rest of her body. Her first thought was that she started her period. But that wasn’t it either. She ran to the bed shocked to see the side of Henri’s face covered in blood as well as his pillowcase and bed sheet.

Her heart sank. And then she screamed.

“
Henri!”

She jumped on the bed, shaking him forcefully until his eyes opened and he was looking at her. He touched his nose as soon as he saw the sheer panic in her eyes.

“
It’s a nose bleed.” He promised. “And I’m a
really
heavy sleeper.”

Maven clutched her chest, happy to see him alive and moving. He pulled off his t-shirt balling it up and holding it against his face, his back to maven.

Aunt Janet barged into the room. Her hair a mess, but she didn’t care. Her only concern was the scream she heard coming from Henri’s bedroom.

“
I’m
fine
. It’s a nose bleed.” Henri wrenched himself out of her reach. He wanted nothing to do with anyone.

“
Just let me see.” Aunt Janet tried once more to pry Henri’s bloodied t-shirt from his face.

Maven backed away, feeling sorry for him. He looked miserable. But she didn’t know what to do. She stared down at the blood on her hands, trying to stay out of it.

Flynn knocked before coming into the room. He was carrying a wet washcloth. He pushed past his mother and without any fight got the t-shirt away from Henri. He helped him clean up his face. “Awesome. At least now you don’t look like a bludgeoned victim from one of those horror movies.” They laughed.

Aunt Janet sighed, leaving the two of them alone.

Maven couldn’t help but notice how great Flynn was with Henri. She could tell Henri and Flynn were close.

“
I’ll let you get cleaned up. And I’ll take your friend downstairs for some tea.”

Maven without delay followed Flynn from the bedroom. Everything happened so quickly she barely had time to process.

Flynn led her to the kitchen. He pulled two glasses from the cabinet.

“
You want to grab that pitcher of tea for me out of the refrigerator?”