Radiant by Christina Daley Read Free Book Online Page B

and turned to her. "Hello, Mary," he said politely.
    " Hey," she said. "Um, I know it's been a while. But I've wanted to say how sorry I am. About you and Laci."
    " Sorry?" he asked. "Why?"
    She shrugged. "Well, I'm not an expert on relationships or anything. But it couldn't have been easy breaking up."
    " Oh. I see." He paused for a moment. "Relationships are curious things. Don't you agree?"
    " Yeah. Totally. I—hey!" she said. "You just used a contraction!"
    " I did."
    Mary saw that he was still walking a little weird, but not mini-lunging any more. "How long has this been going on?" she asked.
    " I've been practicing." He stopped. "Mary?"
    " Yeah?"
    " Have you completed your painting?" he asked. "The one of Saturn's rings?"
    " Oh yeah," she said, recalling they had talked about it before. "I did."
    " May I see it?"
    Well, she had said he could. And Mary wasn't one to go back on her word. "Um, sure. It's in the Art room. But isn't basketball practice going on now? I don't know if you have enough time to see it."
    " I'm not on the basketball team anymore," he said.
    She stared at him. "You're not ?"
    He shook his head. Still a little dramatic, but not as much as before. "My coordination is not as it used to be. My doctor and coach agreed that I should not play for the rest of the season."
    Mary felt like ironing her hands again.
    "Did I say something offensive?" he asked. " Why do you look sad now?"
    "Oh." She shook her head, "It's just…I'm…I thought basketball's a big deal to you. And I'm sorry that you can't play anymore because of…well…because of me."
    " I do not blame you for anything," he said.
    She shrugged. "I know. But I still feel bad about it."
    He stared at her for a moment. Then he said, "I understand. But I hope that soon you will know that there is no need to feel that way."
    He was making it hard for Mary to sufficiently punish herself. "So, what class are you taking in place of basketball?" she asked.
    "I'm no t in another class," he said. "It is too late in the term. So, I will make up for it in the summer."
    Crap, she thought. Not only did she take away his car and basketball, but she set him behind schedule, too.
    "You're sad again," he said.
    "Sorry," she said. "I just…well, that must be nice, though. To have a free class period to do nothing."
    "I help at the library," he said. "If there are not books to shelve or other things to do, I work on my homework or read."
    That could explain how his grades were getting better. " You like reading?" she asked.
    "I like learning about humanity," he said. He paused for a moment and then added, "So yes. I like reading."
    Up until that moment, Mary had never heard of a boy who liked to read.
    " Your painting?" he asked.
    " Oh. Right," she said.
    They headed for the Art room, where they found Mr. Edwards stacking bottles of paint in a cabinet. "Hey there, Mary. And good afternoon, Carter."
    " Good afternoon, sir. How are you?" Carter greeted.
    " I'm well, thanks. Just tidying up a bit."
    " Would you like any help?" he asked.
    Mary noted the curious look on the Art teacher 's face. "I only have this last box of paint to put up. That's all. But thanks for asking."
    " You're welcome."
    Mr. Edwards still looked puzzled. Mary explained, "Carter wanted to see my Saturn rings painting. Is that all right, sir?"
    " Of course," he said. But the wrinkles in his brow didn't go away.
    She went to the drawer with her name on it and took out the canvas. "Well? What do you think?"
    Carter said nothing at first.
    " It's all right if you don't like it," she said.
    " No, that's not it," he said. "Not at all. It's… magnificent ."
    Mary had never heard that word used to describe her work before. "Really?"
    " Maybe that isn't the right word. I can't think of a better one, though." He looked at her. "You are gifted."
    " That's what I say," Mr. Edwards added. "Let's see if you can convince her to enter it into the contest. Or any of her other paintings, for that matter. I've