That Summer

Evangeline had upset Paul many times in her life.

In fact, for the past ten years it had been her daily occupation. It was just a part of life, telling Paul off; belittling him, reminding him he was below the all perfect, all knowing Evangeline. The way he got quiet and the sad look in his eyes had never really effected her. It was just a sign of victory for her.

But then again, she'd never looked at Paul. Not really, anyway.

Evangeline saw, for the first time, the effect she really had on him. She saw the way his big, sparkling chocolate eyes seemed to go flat and dead after she yelled at him. She saw how his teeth constantly chewed on his lip ring subconsciously as she belittled him. How he became fidgety, uncomfortable. And how his features fell into and arrangement of sadness like he knew he'd never be good enough for Evangeline no matter how hard he tried.

Seeing this all for the first time, Evangeline got a pain in her chest. She understood, finally, what she did to Paul DiGiovanni when all he wanted was to be there, especially now in a time when Evangeline needed people the most.

What she felt now, wasn't guilt. It wasn't regret or sorrow. It was shame.

For the first time in Evangeline Donahue's life, she felt purely shameful and that hit her hard.

The tears were unexpected as she sat on her bed, sketchbook open in front of her and a pencil shaking in her hand. She pressed the point to the paper and began drawing from memory. It was the same subject she'd drawn a dozen times.

Those versions had never been right, they'd never portrayed the person correctly.

But now that Evangeline had seen him for the first time, this sketch became something else altogether.
______________________________________________________________________________

Evangeline couldn't keep toast down the next day, or the day after that.

But on the third day, it didn't come back up to meet her and that made her smile. Bryan was outright ecstatic while Evangeline hid how happy it really made her. Inside, though, she felt proud of herself. Prouder than she'd felt in a long time. She felt like she was soaring.

Bailey had made it a point to come to come to the Donahue's home everyday. She'd forced Evangeline out of the house and around town. They'd caught a movie one day, gone on a walk the other day.

Evangeline was never quite so sure why she let Bailey hang around. This girl who was so different than her, so happy and bubbly and who people liked and who liked people right back. She was like an alien to Evangeline; some crazy life form that could not mold itself to the normal ways of Evangeline's life.

But she never made Bailey leave. She went along on her adventures begrudgingly, standing aside when Bailey ran into someone she knew and chatted, watching almost entranced in the way people didn't either shy away from her or fight to be her friend. It was like they liked Bailey for who she was and not who she could make them. This was all so foreign to Evangeline. So, so foreign.

Aside from the lack of hatred that was newly present between the Donahue siblings, Bailey's sudden company, and the lack of ballet, Evangeline's life remained largely the same. Except there was still one thing that was off that week.

Paul hadn't been over once.

Since Evangeline had snapped at him, he'd been MIA, and when Evangeline brought it up to her brother, Bryan only shrugged. He saw Paul when he wasn’t home but every time he was invited back to the Donahue's, Paul had something to do. It seemed like he was avoiding seeing Evangeline just as much as Bryan was keeping the rest of the band away, still trying to keep his sister's secret a secret.

Evangeline was sketching in her book, again, lying on the floor as Bailey sat on her bed reading a book. Evangeline was caught up in shading when she realized the other girl was watching over her shoulder.

"Wow," Bailey murmured.
"What?" the blonde questioned, looking back down to the drawing self consciously.
"How many times have you drawn that subject?"
"I don't know," Evangeline sighed. "Too much?"
"My point is, you've drawn him like a million times and you've never made him look like that before," she explained. "It's beautiful."

Evangeline looked down to the drawing before her. The strong jaw line, high cheek bones, a prominent nose, thick eyebrows, large, beautiful dark eyes lined with thick lashes. He was looking down to something out of the frame, with the softest of expressions; it was how he looked at Evangeline. She sighed and pulled her eyes from Paul's two-dimensional face and instead focused on Bailey.

"It's okay," Evangeline murmured.
"No, seriously, Evan. It really is beautiful," Bailey countered. The other girl's head snapped up to stair at the brunette on the bed.
"What did you call me?"
"Evan?" Bailey questioned. "Sorry it's just that your whole name is so long," she giggled and rolled onto her back.
"Mmm," she hummed and looked back to the sketch.
"You know if you made a portfolio with work like that, you could probably get into a great art school," Bailey commented again.
"Who said I wanted to go to art school?" Evangeline snapped. Bailey only rolled her eyes, now used to (and very unphased by) Evangeline's attitude.
"That sketch does."