That Summer

When Paul woke up on Evangeline's bed, he was worried to find her missing. But when he heard her voice in the hallway - obviously on the phone with someone - he relaxed. He rolled over onto his stomach and shifted uncomfortable, feeling something poking him from under the covers.

Paul rolled back over and reached beneath the pink cotton until his hand hit something that felt like a notebook, extracting it to find the turquoise book he'd seen in Evangeline's possession on and off for most of the summer.

Curiosity overcame the brunette boy and he listened in silence for a moment to make sure the phone call was still going strong in the hallway before he flipped the cover open. Inside were drawings, some in pencil and other in what looked like charcoal. The drawings were pretty basic in the beginning; good but not really impressive. But then the sketches got better, more detailed and more life like. Until Paul came across a drawing of himself. And then another. And another. Each one getting progressively better until Paul was overcome with the odd feeling that he was looking into a black and white mirror.

He looked soft in all the pictures. His eyes always looked big and caring; he nose and jaw strong. In some of them he had a lopsided smile and in others his mouth was in a gentle line. Paul wondered if that was how Evangeline saw him: caring and tender. Loving, even.

"What are you looking at?" Evangeline's voice erupted in Paul's ear quickly followed by her arms wrapping around him from the back and her head on his shoulder. And then she whispered softly, "Oh."
"Sorry, I just, uhm rolled onto it and I was curious," he stuttered slightly.
"It's okay, I guess. It's just that aside from Bailey no one has seen them," she shrugged, her breath tickling Paul's ear as she spoke.
"I didn't know you drew," he murmured.
"I used to a lot when I was little but then I stopped," she slid to Paul's side and looked down at the book as she spoke. "I started again when I hurt myself."
"They're good," he commented. "Why'd you stop?"

Evangeline cocked her head to the side, trying to figure why exactly she had stopped. She wasn't really sure at first until she just shrugged.

"I guess I was just too busy with ballet at that point. I was good at ballet, you know? Drawing was harder; I actually had to work at it."
"Ev, you've got to work at some things. I mean, I had to work at guitar. Hell, I worked at you for like ten years," he smirked.
Evangeline giggled and sighed. "Yeah I guess. I don't know."
"Do you ever think," Paul began slowly, "that you just liked ballet because you were good at it? Not necessarily that you loved it so much as you loved knowing that everyone else wasn't as talented as you?"

The blonde tilted her head up and gazed at her boyfriend silently for a few moments. She'd never considered this before. Maybe Paul was right.

"Maybe," she murmured.
"Are you going to go back to ballet when you're better?" he questioned softly.
"I don't know; I hadn't thought about it. Honestly, though?" she looked up to him. "I haven't really missed it for a while."
"But London's waiting," Paul reminded her.
Evangeline only sighed, "I know."

--

"So," Bailey sprawled herself out on her blue bedspread. "How's Paul?"
"Fine," Evangeline returned slowly in the desk chair and then asked wryly, "How's my brother?"
"There's nothing going on with your brother and me," the brunette rolled her eyes but Evangeline could swear she saw a tinge of pink crawling onto her friend's tanned cheeks.
"Sure," she rolled her eyes back.
Bailey hummed sarcastically and declared, "Hey, you want to burn my ballet slippers with me?"

Evangeline's eyebrows raised and she looked over to the corner of the room where Bailey's dance things lay; thrown to the side to hopefully be forgotten. Evangeline's dance things were folded neatly and put in their place. But not here, not for Bailey. Dance wasn't the same for her as it was for Evangeline.

"Don't you need them for the rest of your dance classes?"
"Ev, it's the first day of September. I don't have any more dance classes," she laughed. "I'm free now. I can throw that stuff out and go to college without worrying about missing anything because of dance and my Nazi mother."
"Oh," the blonde returned softly.
"It's been so long since you've gone you probably forgot," Bailey shrugged.
"Yeah," Evangeline murmured. "You know, Paul said he thought that I didn't love ballet so much as I loved being good at it."
"Huh," she said, cocking her head to the side. "He's a pretty smart kid."
"Yeah," the blonde whispered.
"Hey, I'll be back," Bailey stood up. "I just need to go get something to eat. You want anything?"

Evangeline bit her lip, her grey-blue eyes staring into her friend's. She'd already eaten her cereal that morning and she was due to have her salad. But she didn't want a salad. For the first time in a long time, Evangeline wanted food. Real food. Hot food. Food that was cooked. She wanted a meal.

"Yeah, I'd like something," she grinned. Bailey grinned back just as widely. She was no idiot; she knew what Evangeline's agreement meant.

And Evangeline's heart may have been beating out of her chest, and her palms may have been clammy with nerves and her head may have reflexively started counting the ways she could burn off or purge the calories; but once Bailey placed the bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of her she picked up the spoon and put the pasta in her mouth. And she smiled, and kept the food in her stomach. And it stayed there.

--

Paul was sitting on his couch playing X-Box when the front door of his house slammed open, just about sending the guitarist into cardiac arrest.

"Paul?" Evangeline's voice rang out franticly. He responded immediately; his heart pace quickened as he sprang up from the couch. "Paul, where are you?" Evangeline shrilled.
"I'm right here," he called back and was about to start walking towards the door when his girlfriend rounded the corner and jumped onto him. He went flying back onto the couch, Evangeline sprawled on top of him.
"Oh my God, Paul," she exclaimed. He was a millisecond away from questioning her as to what was wrong when he realized she was smiling. Not only was she smiling, she looked down right manic with happiness.
"What the hell happened?"
"I ate macaroni and cheese!" she chimed like a four year old. "Bailey made it and I ate it and I kept it down."

Adjusting her in his lap, Paul sat up a bit straighter on the cushions and smiled widely up at the girl straddling his legs.

"I'm really proud of you," he kissed her softly.
"God I haven't felt this full in forever. It was uncomfortable at first but now it's so satisfying," she continued to ramble. Her eyes shone brightly, running around the room until they finally landed definitely on Paul and their owner declared: "Paul, I love you."
The chocolate irises staring at her softened as did Paul's smile. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her body flush against his and kissing her forehead. "I love you, too, Evan."

Evangeline pressed her body more into his for a moment, allowing their lips to connect before she suddenly pulled away and jumped into a standing position. Paul looked at her questioningly until she grinned at him devilishly.

"The sooner you catch me, the longer you have me," she smirked, starting at a run towards the staircase.
"Wha-?" but the word was half out of Paul's mouth when recognition hit him. He sat still for a minute, listening as Evangeline's foot steps went into his room.

And then he ran right after her.