Chapter 9
He stayed silent without responding. I smiled. “Why aren’t you answering me, Keith?”
His expression shifted slightly, but he maintained his composed demeanor. “That’s just what Bessie calls me–it has nothing to do with me.”
A servant brought us two glasses of water. Keith’s gaze fell on my cup, which was dark red but not the usual kind I
drank.
I stirred it and explained with a smile, “Frederick prepared this for me. I never expected him to be so thoughtful.”
Keith froze, quietly watching me. “Isabella, are you criticizing me for neglecting you before?”
“Not really,” I took a sip. “Everyone has their own way of making friends, but art students definitely understand
other art students best.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed, but no words came out. What could he say anyway? Smart people don’t need to spell everything out–it would just embarrass everyone.
After a long while, when the herbal soup had gone cold, he smiled bitterly. “I understand. Sorry for bothering you.”
Before leaving, he stared at me with a complicated expression. “Isabella, get some rest.”
After I closed the door, there was a muffled sound outside–like people bumping into each other, followed by Henry’s clumsy voice.
‘Keith? What are you doing here? Did you go see Isabella? How did it go? Is she still mad?”
I couldn’t make out the response, but Henry’s voice turned dejected. “Isabella can’t bear to ignore me forever.”
I found it tedious and told the housekeeper that if any of those guys came by again, don’t open the door for anyone–and don’t bother telling me about it either.
That night it rained heavily. The servant mentioned someone had been pressing the doorbell for a long time, but the housekeeper wouldn’t let them open the door.
I heard Alexander got sick with a high fever. Keith asked if I could visit him, and I texted back: “Buy some Tylenol, I’ll pay for it.”
Keith didn’t reply.
The day Alexander returned to school happened to coincide with the portfolio review results being announced–it was the happiest day for me. I’rederick and I had both been accepted to Yale School of Art!
He lost all composure, spinning me around on the playground. “We made it! We made it! Isabella, we can be
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together from now on!”
Classmates came to congratulate us, and through all the people in my field of vision, I noticed an additional figure. Looking closer, I saw Alexander standing outside the basketball court, his face still pale from his recent illness.
He was too far away for me to see clearly, but I could vaguely make out his lips moving, as if he was mouthing something to me. He seemed to be saying-
Suddenly a basketball arced through the air and slammed hard into the side of his face. Alexander whipped around and immediately got into a scuffle with someone.
He was already an adult–why was he still so impulsive?
Coming back from the principal’s office, I reflected on what Alexander had been trying to say. It was probably: “Congratulations.”
After graduation, we’d be leaving Manhattan soon. Frederick took me to paint in Central Park, and as I worked, I looked up at the sky, realizing I’d never felt such peace while painting undisturbed.
It felt wonderful.
A gentle breeze stirred as someone handed me a piece of paper–it was a sketch of my profile.
Frederick showed his dimple. “Isabella, I’m sorry–I couldn’t help myself and secretly sketched you just now.”
His drawing was beautiful, capturing my profile in flowing lines outlined by light, with downcast lashes that made ne look incredibly gentle. I smiled genuinely.
Are you giving this drawing to me?”
He blushed slightly as the wheat swayed in the breeze, rustling softly. In that moment, the whole world seemed to all quiet.
Then suddenly, angry shouting erupted from nearby.
Where’s the family supposed to get money for you to repeat senior year?! Didn’t you say you could earn enough on our own to pay for your mom’s treatment? Where’s that money now? Where?! She didn’t get better, and now you vant money to take another gap year–are we even going to survive as a family? Huh? You’ve completely disgraced is, stripping naked for people to stare at and you can’t even earn your own tuition money. Disgusting!”
The man sounded drunk, screaming at his daughter beside him. Frederick stood up expressionlessly, then quickly at back down.
turned to him. “What’s wrong? Don’t you feel sorry for someone like that?”
After a pause, he packed up his easel. “I can’t see anything else anymore.”
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The wind kept blowing as the Lopez family car drove further away. Three boys stood silently watching the girl being berated.
Henry still felt sympathetic. “Let’s help her out–that money isn’t much to us anyway.”
Alexander had already turned away. “Help her yourself. Her mom’s illness is fake, and I definitely don’t believe thi scene is real either.”
Henry looked to Keith for support, but Keith was staring distractedly at the departing car.
‘Keith? Isabella’s already gone.”
Keith was deep in thought. “Bessie’s family is poor, so she conveniently went crying to Alexander. We just happened o witness her mom’s tragic condition. And Frederick too–for a simple sketching session, how did they just happen o end up in this exact wheat field?”
Henry couldn’t follow his cryptic reasoning. “Huh? What are you talking about?”
Keith stopped explaining and caught up with Alexander. Henry had no choice but to run after them both.
‘Hey, where are you guys going?”
Alexander was impatient. “To submit college applications. We’re going to New Haven–can’t let that bastard Frederick get ahead of us.”
Oh, I’m coming too!”
The two of them ran quickly ahead, leaving only Keith walking with his hands in his pockets, lost in thought.
I don’t believe there are really this many coincidences in the world. Isabella… could it have been you?”
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Dumped by My Three Crushes for a Gold Digger
Now I’m Duetoe Theis Rival
