Chereads / The Prodigy Series / Chapter 34 - The Artist | Chapter Six

Chapter 34 - The Artist | Chapter Six

"It's too fucking hot," Ben complained as we walked about the park, his hand covering his eyes. We'd gotten here about an hour ago.

"Are you talking about me?" Felix laughed, nudging his boyfriend's shoulder, and in turn, Ben rolled his eyes as he adjusted the face cap he had on. Ji-Hun and Wyatt had already disappeared, and Aiyana was enthusiastically talking to Xander who didn't seem to feel the same way. He looked a bit thrown off by the attention and seemed like he was looking for a reason to end the conversation.

I trailed behind them, feeling a bit out of place. I'd said yes when Wyatt had suggested that we all hung out together, but everyone seemed to be in pairs while I was left alone. I couldn't blame them really. The few times they'd tried to talk to me I hadn't had much to say.

I was simply boring.

Uninteresting.

However, you'd like to put it.

"We're going to get ice-cream, are you coming along?" I heard Felix ask. I blinked, realizing that he'd been talking to me. I turned to find him smiling. He had his hand laced with Ben's while using his free hand to scroll through his phone. I thought about his question for a while before shaking my head. I was done with just tailing behind them.

"You can go ahead. I want to look around. Wyatt has my phone number so you guys can just call when you're about to leave," I said, squinting a bit as the harsh rays of sunlight that seemed to suddenly appear due to a cloud moving.

I watched Felix nod that that. "Okay then, see you later," he said as he and Ben along with Aiyana and Xander headed for the ice-cream stand that was a little while away, and crowded with kids and their parents. I turned away from them, looking about the park and noting that it was a lot busier than usual. It made sense though, seeing as it was summer vacation after all.

I wandered towards the shallow stream that cut across the large playground. The sound of kids laughing filled the air as they went off slides and got thrown in the air by swings. I smiled a little bit, realizing that I haven't been to the park in two months. I rarely went out, and when I did it was usually with my parents and they liked the quiet lake that was a two-hour drive from our house, not the park.

Walking about the shore of the stream, I kicked stones in my way into the water, watching the splash and eventual ripples they made. I was in the middle of my walk when I heard a familiar voice — soft yet firm. It was singing along to a monotone song that was being played and could be faintly heard amidst the noise from the children in the playground. I looked about until I spotted a person sitting down on one of the park benches positioned a little distance away from the stream — the person was sketching into a drawing pad. They were wearing a pair of plain blue jeans and a red polo shirt. I squinted, trying to make out their face. I walked forward, my eyes widening when I noticed who it was.

Toby.

I stopped walking forward, wondering if it was okay to go up to him, or if the best option was to turn and act like I hadn't seen him. He hadn't noticed me after all, and he seemed too focused on what he was doing.

I stood there for a while — just staring until I heard a bark that made me look away from him briefly before looking back. The bark seemed to catch Toby's attention as well because he'd turned his gaze towards the bushes. A greyhound soon made it way out, barking again as it wagged its tail.

"Duke!" Toby said with a laugh, putting his drawing pad aside on the space beside him on the bench as the dog came up to him, sniffing his jeans. "Just one more hour, and then we can go home. I promise."

He has a dog? I thought to myself as I raised a brow in confusion. Well, it seemed like it from the way he was interacting with it. The dog soon settled by his feet, still wagging its tail and beating the ground with it. It took another bark to get me out of my thoughts, and it was only then I realized that the dog and Toby were looking at me.

"Caleb?" Toby seemed to ask. I looked away from him, wondering how to react in the situation.

"Hi," I mumbled with an awkward laugh as I rubbed the back of my neck. I beat myself up mentally at the weak reply, but I couldn't just walk away now, could I? It wouldn't make any sense.

"How long have you been here?"

I shrugged at the question, looking down at the grass as I tucked my hands into the pockets of my casual pants. He didn't question me further, and I looked up to find that the dog was now laying on the floor — still, with its eyes closed. Toby was now drawing, the soft music he'd been humming to still playing — near quiet in the background from his phone. I soon found myself looking from him to the empty space beside him on the bench.

"Why don't you have a seat, or are you looking for something?" he asked, not taking his eyes off his drawing book. I looked at the empty space again before taking a deep breath and heading over to settle down beside him. I looked straightforward at first, before turning my gaze to the drawing Toby was doing. It was a landscape piece in pencil colors.

"It looks great," I found myself saying. Toby didn't pause what he was doing, but he did mutter a 'thank you' under his breath before smiling. I watched him bring the trees in the drawing to life in greens, browns, reds, yellows, blues, and contours of occasional black. I'd even started handing him pencils from his case that was between us on the bench whenever he asked.

"What is it for?" I asked when he moved his hand from the trees to focus on the grass.

He shrugged, biting his bottom lip. "Nothing really, this is my form of relaxing if that makes sense."

"Do you sell them?" I asked. I wasn't why I saw him selling his art, but there had to be something he did with them when he was done. My parents mostly did commissioned work, so most of the stuff they made was out of the art room anywhere from a few hours to a few days after they were done.

"No, I don't," he said with a small smile. "I'm the only one in my apartment with Duke. My works just sit around the house really."

"Oh," I answered, now unable to think of what Toby's apartment looked like. I guessed that it was neat and tidy judging from how he kept his desk and the surrounding area in school. A small frown took form on my face when I realized I really didn't know anything about him outside of what I knew from school. For instance, he'd never mentioned his dog. It made me realize how little about him I really knew, and I couldn't just ask him to tell me about himself.

"I live about thirty minutes away from here. In one of those old apartment buildings right beside the LRT station. You know them, don't you?" I blinked, realizing Toby had spoken to me.

"Yeah," I mumbled, running a hand through my dark brown hair before turning my gaze to his drawing. He was still working on the grass and surrounding area, but it could pass as a completed work as it was now. He switched pencils, taking the white one to create highlights about the contours he'd created on the tree barks and stones.

"It has really cheap rent — typical, seeing as it's close to the trains that run from five in the morning to twelve midnight. I go out often because of the noise or drown my apartment in music if I'm too lazy. Strange though, I've never run into you here before," he said, as I started to cuss my distaste of going out in my mind, wondering if I would have run into him if I'd dropped by at the park on a random day.

"What are you doing in the park?" he asked when I got lost in my thoughts again.

"I'm hanging out with my brother and his friends," I answered. I wasn't sure if I could even classify it as an outing. I'd left them, and they were probably having fun without me somewhere — which wouldn't have been much different if I was there with them instead of sitting on the wooden bench I was on now with Toby. I would have been the background, unable to truly engage with them in conversation.

"Do you want something to eat. A corn dog, maybe?" I heard Toby ask.

I nodded, watching as he got up from the bench. I did the same, noting that the dog that had been laying at Toby's feet got up too. We headed to one of the small food trucks lined up together. Toby insisted on paying for my corn dog, and he got one for his dog too. I wasn't sure why I felt flustered. It was a small act, but I was willing to grasp onto hairs. I was apologetically greedy for any form of affection that he threw my way, even if they weren't 'real' or were just done out of plain kindness.

When we got back to the bench by the stream we talked about a couple of things — summer school, my plans for college and other things falling roughly into the same category. He talked about his college days too, smiling at times and them looking like what he'd said had left a bitter taste in his mouth. The way he talked about his experiences, even the small ones like a day in class seemed a bit fragmented — like he was taking a pause and carefully picking what to say and what not to. I wasn't sure if he was aware of it himself, but it made me a little sad and concerned.

I wanted to hug him, tell him that whatever it was didn't matter, but there were obvious faults with my thoughts. One was that it obviously mattered if it was affecting him this much, and the other was what made me think he'd want a hug from me? I'm sure he wouldn't, and he also probably didn't want the opinion of someone with little to no social skills. I had limited experience with any and everything that wasn't visual arts related. I started scolding myself internally for not having much to say, but it really couldn't be helped. I wasn't intelligent or witty. I wouldn't be able to make him laugh or comfort him.

To put it frankly I had the conversational skills of a goldfish, but I needed words, and it was frustrating not knowing how to put how I felt into words.

"I have to leave," Toby said, getting up with his drawing pad and pencil case. His dog got up too, wagging its tail as it continued to chew on the stick that was the remnant of the corn dog Toby had given it.

"See you later then." He smiled, before turning and leaving. I continued to sit on the bench, observing the shallow stream until I got a text from Wyatt saying that they were about to leave the park.

"Where were you?" he asked when I met up with them at the entrance of the park.

"By the stream." I shrugged, smiling to myself as we headed to Felix's car together.

The smile didn't leave my face even after Wyatt, Xander and I were dropped off at our place. I'd actually enjoyed the outing, but for different reasons — obviously.

I'll definitely be going to the park more often if it meant seeing Toby outside of school.