8
Blake
I was sitting on the grass of the square Wednesday, eating my lunch, when someone lowered to the ground beside me. I was focused on my favorite design idea so far and didn’t want to lose my train of thought, but I didn’t have to even look to know it was Ian.
I finished my sketch and turned to him. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he said brightly. “Can I see?”
I nodded and handed over my sketchbook. I rarely let anyone see my work before it was done, but Ian was an artist and understood it was a process to come up with something beautiful from scratch.
“Ms. Georgia?” he asked.
I nodded. “Earl asked me to paint a new mural. He wants to honor her so people know her for years to come. Eddie’s already approved it.”
“Wow. That’s awesome. What did Karissa say?”
I shifted uncomfortably. “Um, I have
