Free Effortless by S.C. Stephens Page B

positive thing that she could say about my elementary
level bowl of tropical fruit. While I’d been working on the thing
for three weeks, it looked like something a six-year-old had drawn
and colored in one afternoon. Artist, I was not.
     
    As the teacher walked over to commend Kate on her perfectly
proportioned apples, I wondered if the retired school teacher had
been around when Kellan was in school. Then I wondered if she’d
been at
his
school. Maybe he’d taken her class. Maybe
she’d been his teacher, complimenting him on his study of the
female form. Instantly I started to think that maybe she’d “taught”
Kellan in more ways than one; a scowl formed on my lips.
     
    A light laughter broke my train of thought and I looked over at
Jenny watching me. “It’s not so bad, Kiera.”
     
    With the end of her pencil, she pointed to my pathetic attempt
at realism. “It’s sort of…Picasso-ish.”
     
    I frowned, but then laughed with her. Picasso wasn’t really what
I’d been going for, but then again, art was subjective. One man’s
garbage was another man’s Monet. Maybe I had a future in it after
all. Looking over at Jenny’s drawing, I reconsidered. No, out of
all of us, Jenny was the one with a future. She’d passed up fruit
bowls ages ago, and was on to drawing people. What she’d created
with just a pencil blew my mind.
     
    She’d drawn the band…our band. It was a close-up of them on
stage—Griffin and Matt on their guitars, jamming away, Evan beaming
with joy behind his drums, and Kellan, singing away on his
microphone. She’d even managed to capture the devilish curl of a
smile that Kellan got when he sang. It was breathtaking, and put my
sad little bundle of grapes to shame.
     
    Sighing, I pointed at her drawing. “That’s amazing, Jenny.
Really, you’ve got a knack for this.”
     
    Her face blossoming into a wide smile, she looked back at her
picture. “Thanks.” Erasing a minute pencil line on Matt’s guitar,
she looked back at me. “I was thinking of having Pete put it up at
the bar when I was done with it.” She shrugged. “You know, as an
homage to his boys.”
     
    She giggled and I nodded. “No, that’s a good idea.” Watching her
perfect a shadow line across Kellan’s jaw, making the masculine
right angle stick out even more, I shook my head. “I think they’d
really like that, Jenny.” She nodded as she went back to work on
it, and thinking of the bassist she was working on, I snorted a
little. “You should probably draw a flasher in there somewhere for
Griffin.”
     
    She laughed. “Yeah, definitely.” Scrunching her pale brows, she
shook her head. “What is up with him and your sister anyway? Are
they together or not?”
     
    Sighing as I turned back to my misshapen fruit, I shrugged. “No
idea. They don’t act like they’re together, and they certainly
aren’t exclusive if they are.” Looking back at her, I shook my
head. “But they, um, see each other at least a few times a
month.”
     
    Jenny nodded, her blonde locks dangling around her shoulders. “I
know. He talks about it whenever they do.” She shrugged one
shoulder. “I asked him once what they were and he said…”
     
    Biting her lip, she didn’t finish that sentence. Not sure if I
really wanted to hear anything Griffin said about my sister, I
raised an eyebrow. “He said what?” I asked cautiously.
     
    Avoiding looking at me directly, she sighed softly and looked
around. I didn’t take that as a good sign. While no one was close
enough to hear her, she leaned towards me anyway. “He called her
his…fuck buddy.” Her lips twisted into a grimace and she rolled her
eyes.
     
    My cheeks flamed red hot and the only coherent sound I could
make was one of disgust. Seeing my expression, Jenny shook her head
again and went back to her pencil drawing of the revolting man.
“Yeah, I know,” she flicked the image of him on her paper with her
pencil, “he’s a tool.”
     
    Adjusting the