Teenage love

Chapter 3: Connecting

Chapter 3

Abbi

Ethan closes his eyes and leans his head against the couch. I become warm in my whole body just to have my fingers against his cheek. Something catches my attention, a painting hanging on the wall.

It shows a young girl sitting on a rock in a dark forest by a stream looking at her reflection in the clear water. Her long golden hair is hanging down over her shoulders. She is crying. Such a beautiful painting.

"Ethan?" I say without taking my eyes off the painting.

"Yes?" He opens his eyes and lifts his head.

I turn my head towards him. He looks at me with his blue eyes. Staring straight into my soul. For a moment I completely forget what I was going to ask him, but then it comes back to me.

"Where did you get that painting?" I ask, pointing at the painting. "I've never seen anything like it."

"No that's probably true," Ethan laughs. "Why? You like it?"

I don't know what to say to express how I feel about the painting with words.

"Yes, it ... it looks alive somehow," I say. “It’s absolutely amazing, out of this world”. I stand up and walk up to it. I gently put my fingers on it. So beautiful. I was right, it looks alive. How can anyone paint like this? Whoever it is, he or she is very talented. "Ethan you never responded," I point out without taking my eyes off the painting. "Where did you buy it?" Ethan is not responding so I turn around and see him standing there behind me, with a pen and paper. "What are you doing?" I ask.

He smiles and looks at me and then down at the paper, and then at me again.

He gives me the paper after five minutes. I look at it. He's painted me. I see myself standing in front of a board with one hand on it while I face Ethan. But he hasn't painted the painting, just me. He's captured the moment as it was five minutes ago on a paper. And that's when I get it.

"You made the painting?"

He smiles and nods.

"Well, when my mom saw it, she wanted to hang it up," Ethan says. "She thought it was really beautiful."

"I understand why," I say and turn towards the painting again and then towards Ethan. "You know, I'm going to keep this." I wave the paper in front of him. "Who knows, you might become a famous artist one day and then I can proudly say that you did this in front of me, but you need to write your signature in the corner," I give him the paper.

Ethan laughs and takes back the paper. He writes his signature and folds the paper. Then he puts it in my jeans pocket.

"Here," he says. "But it won't be worth anything, just so you know, I'm not going to be an artist, dad needs me to take over the bakery, painting is more like a hobby."

I'm shocked by his words. How can he chose a bakery over this kind of a talent? He decides of course, it's his life and his talent, but it's a shame.

"Well as you want, but I'll probably force you to do my Christmas cards," I joke.

Ethan laughs.

Oh, his laughter. As beautiful as his painting. On the other hand, no, his laugh is even more beautiful, and his eyes, his smile, his finely muscled arms, and his vigorous upper body.

Not that I'm in love with him or anything, but I guess girls notice stuff like that because I'm serious, I don't have a crush on him. Moreover, he can get any girl he wants. He would never choose me.

"Abbi?" Ethan says and snaps his fingers in front of my face. Making me wake up from my daydream.

"Huh?" I ask.

"You were a bit lost there for a while," he laughs. "I asked if we should continue with the report."

"Oh, I just thought about what theme I should have on my Christmas cards, which you're going to draw," I say and hope that he won't issue any further. He doesn't. We continue on the report.

"I think it became good," I puff out when we're finally done with the report.

Ethan still read and perfect our report a little.

"No, it became great," he mumbles with his face still focused on the screen.

I look at the clock.

"Oh no," I gasp and jump up off the couch. "It's already 6 p.m.? "

"It seems that way," Ethan says. "We've been sitting here for three hours."

"Oh no, I have to be home at 6 p.m.” I say. "We eat dinner at this time, or my parents try to do so anyway, my parents are very overprotective, I don't know if you you know this but once they sent the police after me when I was at Wendy’s house, they didn't know I was there but still."

I start running towards the door.

"Wait Abbi," Ethan says who runs after me. "I can drive you."

"Can you? That would great," I say.

"Of course I can," Ethan smiles.

He takes his car keys from the hall table and we walk out to his car. It doesn't take that long to drive between our houses, only five minutes, but it would've taken fifteen minutes to walk, and the sooner I'm home, the better.

"I'm gonna email it to Snow later," Ethan says.

"Good, he'll be surprised we're done so fast, I don't think he was prepared for that," I giggle.

What's wrong with me? I can't talk to Ethan without giggling. It was a long time ago since I giggled a lot. It was when dad was still alive. Suddenly Ethan stops the car and I don't want to step out of it. I want him to continue the drive and drive for ages, and never stop.

"Bye," I say, and open the car door.

"Hey, where's my goodbye hug?" he asks, smiling.

I giggle and hug him. I feel his hard muscles against my body and my heart stops in my chest. There's something about Ethan that makes me feel like this.

When I straighten I feel how he kisses me on my forehead. I'm starting to blush and I see a glimpse of pink even in his face.

"Goodbye," he says, smiling innocently as if he hadn't kissed me on the forehead just now.

I kiss him on the cheek. ”Bye," I say, almost running out of the car and shut the door so he won't see the dark red color that is certainly starting to show on my face at this moment.

Ethan starts the car again and drives off. I start walking toward the house. Before I even have time to take up my keys and open the door my stepdad Buck pulls it open from inside the house and stands there with a worried facial expression.

"Abbi, you must tell us if you are going to a friend's house after school," he says sternly.

"Yes stepfather," I say tense. "By the way, he was no friend."

"What were you doing in his car then, Abigail?" Buck asks appalled.

"Things," I say, as I raise and lower my eyebrows.

"Abigail Thompson!" Buck says horrified.

"Sorry! He's a classmate and I were at his house because we had to write a chemistry report," I say. "And then he drove me home".

"Well, okay then," Buck says. "But you must understand that we become worried?"

"Yes stepfather, I do," I say with dignity.

He sighs and pulls me in a hug. "Come on, your mother and brother are in the kitchen," Buck says.

I dump the bag on the hall floor and follow my stepfather into the kitchen.

Mom and Brandon are sitting by the kitchen table, but there is no food on their plates. They have been waiting for me to come home. Mom looks like she wants to lecture me by starting to yell at me.

"Save your breath, Buck has already yelled at me," I say to her while I sit on my chair next to Brandon. "I was just at a classmate's home and wrote a report".

"Which classmate?" Bran asks.

"Ethan Scott," I say more to mom than to Bran.

"From that café?" Buck asks.

"Yes, is that a problem? They own a very nice café”, I say irritably while mom puts up food on my plate. Buck shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders with his mouth full of food.

"Why are you blushing?" Bran asks

"I'm not blushing", I hiss.

Brandon laughs. ”Yea you are Abbi, yea you are”.