Until Matt.
When he finally looked up again, his eyes were shining. “Thank you,” he said. “I never thought I was interesting enough to be drawn by an artist.”
Holly flushed again, just when the heat was beginning to subside in her cheeks. “I’m hardly an artist yet,” she said, modestly. “And you are one of the most interesting people I have ever met.” She hesitated, wondering if she should ruin the surprise, and then she decided that she might as well tell him. “There’s another drawing. I put it in your rucksack, I wanted to give you a parting gift.”
Matt looked at her quizzically. He bent down and rummaged around his rucksack until he found what he was looking for—a loose piece of paper. He took it out and unfolded the page. He didn’t say anything for what might as well have been hours, his eyes scanning the paper with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
“This is me?” He said, finally looking up at her again.
“Yes. I wanted to capture what you would look like if…” Holly trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish.
Matt frowned. “If what?” he prompted.
“If you’d had it easier in life,” Holly finally said after a moment’s hesitation. “If you could relax a little. If you were less guarded.”
Matt blinked. He seemed to genuinely not get it. “Less guarded?”
“Yes,” Holly said again. “Most people tend to look more innocent while they sleep, more relaxed. More at ease, if you will. Not you.”
“No?” Matt asked, curiously.
“No. You look almost just as tense.”
Mat shrugged. “I suppose it comes from my military training.”
“Maybe,” Holly conceded. “But the kind of sorrows you’ve had to deal with in life surely have not helped, either.”
Matt cringed. “Am I that pathetic?”
“What?” Holly stared at him, horrified. “God, no! Not at all. That’s not what I meant, really. All I meant was that you’ve had it rough, and it shows.”
Matt studied her for a few moments. Finally he seemed to be satisfied with her explanation, because he nodded. “All right then.” He folded the page carefully again. “Thank you so much for this. It was very sweet.” He put the page in-between the pages of one of the paperbacks he had bought on the road and then put the book back in the rucksack.
“You’re welcome,” Holly said. “I hope you didn’t think I was too bold.”
“Not at all.” He smiled brightly at her.
They lapsed into what was now becoming a very familiar kind of silence between them. Each of them soon got lost in their own thoughts, but they never felt alone as long as they were sitting next to each other. Almost without either of them realizing it, their hands began to gravitate towards one another, until their fingers were intertwined. Neither Holly nor Matt said a word; neither of them commented on it. They simply sat there, holding hands, relishing that surreal feeling that Holly suspected could only be found on a crazy journey such as this.
They didn’t look at each other. They didn’t need to. Holly leaned her head back against the headrest and looked absently out the window. Outside, the sky was beginning to take on the gray and blue tones of the pre-dawn hour. It was her favorite time, a time that was neither night nor day. A time where it felt like anything could happen.
Holly closed her eyes and fell asleep, lulled by the steady motion of the bus. Her hand remained in Matt’s.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It took them two days and a half to reach Oregon, but as far as Holly was concerned, the trip was over way too soon. The town the bus stopped into was called Clarksonville, a few miles away from Portland. The little station left a lot to be desired in terms of destination options, so Holly and Matt decided to board yet another bus that would take them to Portland and to a broader selection of places to go.
Holly was happy with that
When he finally looked up again, his eyes were shining. “Thank you,” he said. “I never thought I was interesting enough to be drawn by an artist.”
Holly flushed again, just when the heat was beginning to subside in her cheeks. “I’m hardly an artist yet,” she said, modestly. “And you are one of the most interesting people I have ever met.” She hesitated, wondering if she should ruin the surprise, and then she decided that she might as well tell him. “There’s another drawing. I put it in your rucksack, I wanted to give you a parting gift.”
Matt looked at her quizzically. He bent down and rummaged around his rucksack until he found what he was looking for—a loose piece of paper. He took it out and unfolded the page. He didn’t say anything for what might as well have been hours, his eyes scanning the paper with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief.
“This is me?” He said, finally looking up at her again.
“Yes. I wanted to capture what you would look like if…” Holly trailed off, suddenly feeling foolish.
Matt frowned. “If what?” he prompted.
“If you’d had it easier in life,” Holly finally said after a moment’s hesitation. “If you could relax a little. If you were less guarded.”
Matt blinked. He seemed to genuinely not get it. “Less guarded?”
“Yes,” Holly said again. “Most people tend to look more innocent while they sleep, more relaxed. More at ease, if you will. Not you.”
“No?” Matt asked, curiously.
“No. You look almost just as tense.”
Mat shrugged. “I suppose it comes from my military training.”
“Maybe,” Holly conceded. “But the kind of sorrows you’ve had to deal with in life surely have not helped, either.”
Matt cringed. “Am I that pathetic?”
“What?” Holly stared at him, horrified. “God, no! Not at all. That’s not what I meant, really. All I meant was that you’ve had it rough, and it shows.”
Matt studied her for a few moments. Finally he seemed to be satisfied with her explanation, because he nodded. “All right then.” He folded the page carefully again. “Thank you so much for this. It was very sweet.” He put the page in-between the pages of one of the paperbacks he had bought on the road and then put the book back in the rucksack.
“You’re welcome,” Holly said. “I hope you didn’t think I was too bold.”
“Not at all.” He smiled brightly at her.
They lapsed into what was now becoming a very familiar kind of silence between them. Each of them soon got lost in their own thoughts, but they never felt alone as long as they were sitting next to each other. Almost without either of them realizing it, their hands began to gravitate towards one another, until their fingers were intertwined. Neither Holly nor Matt said a word; neither of them commented on it. They simply sat there, holding hands, relishing that surreal feeling that Holly suspected could only be found on a crazy journey such as this.
They didn’t look at each other. They didn’t need to. Holly leaned her head back against the headrest and looked absently out the window. Outside, the sky was beginning to take on the gray and blue tones of the pre-dawn hour. It was her favorite time, a time that was neither night nor day. A time where it felt like anything could happen.
Holly closed her eyes and fell asleep, lulled by the steady motion of the bus. Her hand remained in Matt’s.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It took them two days and a half to reach Oregon, but as far as Holly was concerned, the trip was over way too soon. The town the bus stopped into was called Clarksonville, a few miles away from Portland. The little station left a lot to be desired in terms of destination options, so Holly and Matt decided to board yet another bus that would take them to Portland and to a broader selection of places to go.
Holly was happy with that
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