“Can you hand me the white?”
A hushed voice called to me, and I responded by reaching my occupied hand towards it. The presence of a hand halted above my hand, uncertain for a moment, before I felt it disappear from my hand. The sound of spraying echoed through the vacant room.
“Vinnie, can you help?” Dylan called my nickname again. I stepped forward to my best friend, his rugged features hidden by the dull moonlight. He kindly handed me the spray paint, and I held my breath, gazing at the vibrant spray-painted wall. Dylan was always an artist, even when we were younger. He taught me a lot about how to draw.
Swallowing, I took a deep breath, before I turned to Dylan. He stared up at me, his smile faltering. I turned back to the drawing of the cartoon character from that TV show we loved. I bit the inside of my cheek, choosing to stay quiet. “Vince, are you okay? You’ve been spacing out a lot.”
The spray can clattered to the ground, and I turned abruptly
to Dylan, his dark eyes glancing at the can, his eyebrows curled upwards. “This spray painting. It’s… well, illegal.”
Dylan chuckled, almost relieved, running a hand through his hair. He let go, and his hair fell over his face, covering his eyes. “Vinnie, I know what I’m doing, okay? We’ll be fine.” He looked up at the painted wall and sighed, noticing the smudged edges. He bit his lip and looked away. “You a
greed to help out, remember?”
“Because you’re always hanging out with your new friends,” I muttered. Dylan gritted his teeth, and I fidgeted with my hoodie’s strings. My lips curled into a bitter smile, and I breathed sharply. “I don’t even see you in class anymore. You’re always with Jake and his friends; you don’t even respond to my messages anymore.”
“Vinnie,” Dylan scratched at his stubble harshly; he’d never grown it out so much before. Although his eyes were relaxed, he stared at me in attention for the first time tonight. Like he forgot that it was his best friend he was talking to. “Why are you bringing them into this? It’s not like they’re around.”
I kicked the spray can away when Dylan reached to grab it. He stood up rigidly but didn’t try to get it again. His voice was faltering when he spoke. He believed himself as much as I did. “Vinnie, I… I need the basketball team. It’s my only way to get a scholarship.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to push me away!” My voice echoed off the walls, and my index finger felt like a knife against Dylan’s chest. It was like someone else made me his
s at my best friend. He stepped away, and I watched as he shook his head.
Not wanting to let my emotions get the best of me again, I walked away in shame. As I shut the door behind me, I saw the paint can rolling away from me and I huffed.
The door clicked shut, leaving my best friend in the darkness.
