Free Plastic Hearts by Lisa de Jong Page B

been obsessed with romantic movies and novels. The couples I envied never seemed to force their feelings; they weren’t plastic. I, on the other hand, grew up in the plastic heart society. In the plastic heart society, love and respect are secondary to money and power. If I told my mother about a boy, she would have asked “What do his parents do?” or “Where does he live?” and even “What kind of car does he drive?”. I would never hear “What is he like?”. No, because where I come from, that doesn’t really matter.
    As soon as Jade came home she could tell I had talked to my mom. I was curled in the fetal position on the bed, my body shaking with sobs. I didn’t even bother to say hi as she made her way across the room, wrapping her body around mine. Sometimes, after a particularly bad conversation, I closed off for days. Jade helped me through it, comforting me, purchasing insane amounts of chocolate chip cookies, and renting comedies until she finally got a laugh out of me. I loved her for that. When there was so much negative in your life, it helped to have someone who could coat it with happiness. I knew she would be there for me this time too.
     

 

     
    Sexy Stranger had become the guy who made my heart skip a beat every time I saw him. Deep down I knew these feelings had to remain unexplored, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy his company. For some reason, I was more relaxed with him than I was with most people. Why was that? I think he could end up being a great friend or at the very least someone who understood ‘the artsy side of Alex’ and that meant everything to me.
    I arrived in class before he did and had already settled into my desk when he walked in wearing a pair of dark jeans, a fitted long sleeve white t-shirt and a pair of worn brown boots. He didn’t fuss too much over his appearance, but he always managed to look breathtakingly handsome. The boy had swagger and he wore it well, from head to toe. He always smelled like a mix of citrus and cedar and - I wouldn’t admit this out loud - I wanted to find out what he used to make himself smell that way and coat everything I owned in it.
    “Hey, Gorgeous, are you getting excited for tomorrow night?” he asked, startling me from my rather delicious thoughts. One side of his mouth was turned up as he looked right into my eyes. I bet he knew exactly what I was thinking.
    I was really excited for tomorrow night. I loved music and, even more so, I loved to dance. “I guess. Am I meeting you there?” I asked, downplaying the obvious.
    “It’s only a few blocks from the dorm. I’ll come pick you up and we can walk there together so neither of us has to worry about driving. Can I see your phone?” he asked, holding out his hand.
    “Uh, why?” I replied, lifting my brow at him.
    He had a huge grin on his face. “In case you need to call me or you decide you can’t wait until tomorrow night to see me again.”
    “Cocky much?” I asked. I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my mouth.
    “I think we already established that.” He winked as I handed him my phone.
    We didn’t talk for the rest of class because there was an abstract painting that was due on Monday. The six hours a week spent in Art class were becoming a welcome retreat from my stressful planned life. I didn’t outline what I would put on canvas this time; I just let my mind and heart guide the brush and was amazed by what they created.
    Dane was a fantastic artist. I mean, off the charts good. I would never tell him this because his head was already so big I was surprised he could get it in his t-shirt in the morning, but he had talent. I knew so little about him, but I did know he’d been through some very painful events; it showed in his paintings with angry red and black color combinations. I could tell he had pain locked inside of him and wondered if he kept it all hidden, like I did.
    When class ended, it didn’t seem possible that two hours had passed.