Fabrizio threw a pillow at the ringing phone. It missed the phone and bounced off the wall. He groaned into his blanket. "Stop calling," he said through clenched teeth. "I. Am. Sick." He breathed a sigh of relief when the ringing stopped a moment later. "Good. You got the point." He rolled over and closed his eyes. He had just pulled the blanket over his head when the phone began ringing again. "Damn it." He lunged off the bed and grabbed the phone. "Jack, seriously, I am sick…yes, I am…yes, I am…no…no, I won't come pick you up…because I'm sick! I feel like shit, Jack…no, a day off will not help me. What I need is to be home in bed. Why don’t you call Rose? Have her come over like she did the last time you ditched? What do you mean, you don't want to do that? Jack, just—what? No…no! I mean it…fine. I'll be there in ten."
He let the receiver drop from his hand. "How does he do this to me?"
*****
Jack took the stairs two at a time. The freshly waxed hardwood floor in the dining room was easy to slide across, and so was the linoleum in the kitchen. He stopped just in front of the refrigerator. He reached in and pulled out a pitcher of water and a peach. Munching the peach, he poured himself a glass of water. Ignoring the peach juice that dripped from his hand, he leaned against the counter as memories of his last self-appointed day off began running through his mind.
He and Rose didn't plan to ditch school that day; it just happened. He knew something was afoot when she was standing at his locker already. Their morning ritual had always been to meet at hers—it was closest to the door he used—and since their switch from friends to something else, that, at least, hadn't changed. "Do you know what I was thinking?" Rose asked with a smile.
He dropped his worn military issue knapsack on the floor next to his feet. "Nope." He flashed her a grin of his own. "But I'd like to."
"Sure you want to know?" she teased. "It might be a bit shocking."
"I think I can handle it."
*****
Jack's hand was warm over hers, his fingers bigger than she remembered. Her feet pounded on the sidewalk as they ran. The wind whipped her skirt back. She giggled, loving the feel of the air on her legs. When they reached the corner, Jack stopped. "Why are we—" she began. He pulled her close. Her heart skipped a beat. His blue eyes mesmerized her.
Jack tried to hold back when he kissed her. His hand curled around her cheek. She leaned into his touch.
*****
The sound of the doorbell brought Jack back to the present. Peach juice dripped from his hand. "Just let yourself in, Fabri!" he called, grabbing a towel.
"So, I'm here!" Fabrizio called. "What's so important?" He stopped at the open kitchen door. "What are you doing?"
"I was eating a peach."
"Do you not know how?"
"I got distracted."
Fabrizio hopped onto the counter. "Thinking about Rose?" he asked in a mock romantic voice. "About how pretty she is?"
Jack rolled his eyes. "No. Art."
"About making her into art?" He held up his hands as Jack moved toward him. "Last one!" He laughed. "You really are crazy into her, aren't you?"
"Yeah…I guess I am," he said pensively. "She's just not like anyone else." His eyes brightened. "Feel like making a phone call?"
"I feel like having breakfast. And who am I calling?"
"The school. You've got to get them to let Rose out." Jack opened the refrigerator. "Here." He tossed Fabrizio an apple. "We'll get something better in the city."
"In the city? No. We are not going there. And this is not a meal."
Jack popped the cap off a bottle of soda and set it down next to him. "Now it is." He hopped onto the counter, a soda of his own in hand.
"Why couldn't she just not go to school?" Fabrizio asked. "You're the expert on faking sick."
"Her mom sends her anyway. Remember when she had that cold in October?"
"How'd you get her out of school that time you ditched together? And what did you two do that day, anyway?" Fabrizio asked between bites of apple.
Jack took a slow sip of his soda. "We hung out," he said. He hopped off the counter and walked around to the other side. His bottle was still half full, but he put it in the sink anyway.
Fabrizio watched him, his apple forgotten. "Yeah, I know that," he said. "But what did you do? You didn't just sit around here all day…did you? ‘Cause I have to tell ya that would be a really lame way to spend one of your famous ditch days."
Jack stared out the kitchen window. Fabrizio kept talking, but he didn't hear it. Rose's voice filled his ears.
*****
"I can't believe we're really doing this." She giggled nervously. "I've never skipped school before."
Jack pushed the front door open. "Now you have," he said with a grin. He bowed low. "After you, miss."
She glided past him. "Thank you," she said curtly.
"It's quiet."
Jack nodded. "Everyone's gone."
Rose looked into his face. "So, we're alone."
He nodded again, his mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah."
She slowly walked around the living room. "There aren't any pictures of you," she said, stopping in front of the mantel. There was a picture of Cal, his parents' wedding photo, and a picture of the three of them.
"They take a portrait every year," Jack explained. "I wasn't here for this year's."
"But they should have one of you from before." She looked around. There were a few more pictures on the walls, but none were of Jack.
"They had one of me from when I was a kid," he said. "But it got broken. Cal accidentally knocked it off the wall."
"I'm sure he did." Rose's tone was clipped.
Jack smiled slightly. "He's clumsy sometimes."
She raised an eyebrow. "When he wants to be?" Jack was about to answer when she gasped, her eyes wide. She grabbed a book from the coffee table. "Klimt!" Flipping the pages, she added, "I assume this is yours?"
"My aunt's—though I think I've looked at it more since I've been here than she has since she bought it." He peered at the book over her shoulder. Avenue of Trees in the Park at Schloss Kammer, 1912. "I love that one."
"You can tell he liked Van Gogh."
"Yeah, but he makes it his own here." He traced the outline of one of the trees with his fingertip. "See how he uses color here?"
"It's extraordinary."
Their eyes met. Jack leaned forward, his gaze flicking from her lips back to her eyes. She moved toward him slowly. Their lips brushed. They were more caressing than kissing until Rose reached out and put a hand on the back of Jack's neck. Her lips parted. He—
*****
"Jack!" Fabrizio waved a hand in front of his face. "Jack, do you hear me?"
Jack blinked a few times. "What? Stop that!"
"You were just standing there," Fabrizio said. "You okay?"
"I'm fine. Just thinking. Let's go pick up Rose."