Free Drawing Amanda by Stephanie Feuer Page A

shoulders. Then he tucked a broccoli flower behind her ear.
    For her dress he made a gown of lettuce and spinach leaves. He hummed as he shaded them. It was an elegant dress, and his character looked truly lovely.
    There were definitely peas in her salad. He remembered how Amanda balanced one on her fork while she laughed (she laughed!) at his story about how he got his nickname. And asparagus? Did she have asparagus? Are there even asparagus in October?
    The top of his chest throbbed as if his heart had been pushed up, displaced by grief, his insides swollen from the burden he carried. He bit his lip as he struggled to recall the items on her lunch tray.
    Inky gave her some final ornamentation: an asparagus spear twisted around her neck and some delicate pea earrings. None of his pencils were quite the right color for the earrings. He wanted a brighter green. He knew just the color—the ink his father had used.
    Inky hesitated. He’d last been in his father’s study to help collect slides for the memorial ceremony his father’s colleagues had put together. When it was done, they’d shut the door and had avoided that side of the apartment ever since.
    He wanted to impress the game developer; this was his shot at having his art used. And if this worked, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much that he wasn’t going to art school with his friends. Maybe this was the next step.
    He bit his lip and stroked a single line of black ink on the page before him. There were things that actually mattered in the world, Inky knew, and just in case he forgot, his school served up heapings of world tragedy and disasters as part of the curriculum. But at this moment, the world, his world, depended on him drawing Amanda.
    Principal Harooni’s voice echoed in his head. It’s time. He fixed on the crisp lettuce green. He knew the color he wanted. No other green would do. He took a deep breath.
    Inky opened the door to his father’s study. The shades were still drawn. The dust made him sneeze. He lowered his head as he walked to the desk. He didn’t want to look around. He felt cold from the inside out. He squeezed his eyes tight, as if it would chase away the flood of images of his father working at his desk. He shivered from his shoulders all the way down his spine.
    He bumped his knee against the wooden desk and felt for the drawer, pulled it open, grabbed the ink and raced out of the room. The sound of the door closing triggered a sea of color, emerald green swirling and turning darker, ever darker, into a menacing inky abyss.

    He sat at his own desk for a long time until the shaking stopped. When his hand was steady again, he loaded the emerald green cartridge into his pen. He made a dot by his character’s ear, added some water to dilute the color and then drew a circle, the spiral increasing slightly, over and over again. He repeated the same motion for the other earring.
    At the top of the drawing he wrote The Green Goddess in letters that looked like a vine.
    He scanned his drawing and signed on to the server handling the Megaland drop box. He attached his file with the message:
    Picasso2B: I’m uploading another picture – I’m sure you’ll find good use for it.

Chapter 17
    The New, New Girl
    W HEN AMANDA SIGNED ON TO MEGALAND , she was greeted by a silly animated graphic of wires touching that said “Testing in progress.” She wondered about the other testers. What were they like? Did they live in New York? Would she ever get to meet them?
    She opened her homework notebook and recalled some of the things that Hawk had said about their classmates. She wrote about a page and set it aside. The testing icon dissolved on the Megaland screen and the welcome screen came up. The chat box appeared.
    Megaland: Welcome, welcome Justagirl. Sorry if I kept you waiting. I was just finishing up with the artist.
    She felt her smile broaden. It was almost as if the website was hers alone. She wondered how long the development stage would