“I thought you’d be more excited. You wanted to know all my secrets, did you not?”
I just stared at him.
“Unfortunately telling secrets is strictly forbidden by the Society. But you’d be surprised by how much you can learn about a person based on their art critiques.”
“Oh yeah? What did my critique reveal about my soul?”
“That you’re too shy to say what you really think. That you’re scared of embarrassing yourself and saying the wrong thing.”
I opened my mouth to protest. Nothing came out. He had gotten me exactly right. I was always worried about saying the wrong thing. So I usually overthought everything and somehow ended up saying something way worse than the original thing in my head.
“See?”
“Okay, Mr. Smarty Pants. What do you think of the painting?”
Ryder ran his fingers along his five o’clock shadow as he stared at the painting. It looked like he was really studying it.
And I was studying him. Because all I wanted was to feel that stubble against my face again. God, why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome? The fact that he’d been an ass for weeks just melted away when I was looking at him. I bit my lip.
“This is actually one of my favorite paintings,” he said. “Do you know what it’s about?”
“No.”
“It depicts the death of Socrates. Politicians accused him of corrupting the youth and gave him the choice of renouncing his beliefs or drinking hemlock. He chose the hemlock.”
“Ah, well it’s clear what your critique says about you. You’re a showoff.”
Ryder laughed. “That wasn’t even my critique. I was just giving you some context so that you’d understand why the use of negative space in the piece was so bold. And why the harmonious palette is so evocative.”
“Yup, you’re definitely a showoff. Do you even know what those words mean?”
“No clue. I just heard some douche use them last time I was here.”
Now it was my turn to laugh.
“Really though, I think the message behind this painting is so important. Imagine if everyone was so willing to stand up for what they believe in.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is. Take my colorful tuxedos.” He pulled the jacket open to reveal the gold lining. “Do you know how many insults I’ve gotten about them?”
“Depends on how long you’ve been wearing them.”
“Doesn’t matter how long. Because the answer is zero. Not a single insult. But I’ve gotten a ton of compliments. And they got you to stalk me, so I’d say that’s a win…”
I shoved his arm. “Uh, excuse me. But if I recall,youwere the one stalkingme. #StalkerProblems.” I almost squealed. I’d used that hashtag perfectly! It was definitely the best I’d ever done. #Ever. Eh, I ruined it. But #StalkerProblems would go down in history as my best use ever.
“If you say so. Speaking of stalking, you’re going to need your stalking skills to find our tour group. It appears we’ve been left behind.”
I looked around. Yup, we were alone. How had I not noticed them leave? Was Ryder really that distracting?
A phone ringing startled me.
“Whoops,” said Ryder as he fished his phone out of his breast pocket. Then he narrowed his eyes. “I have to take this. I’ll be right back. Don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.” He winked at me and walked out of the room.
I took a few minutes to admire some of the other art in the room. But after I had looked at every piece and read all the placards twice, I started to get antsy. Where was he? Did he think I wasgoing to go find the group? For all I knew, Ryder was with the tour group wondering where the heck I had gone.
I decided to go find him. But the room he’d gone into was empty and the lights were off. Same story for the next room. And the next.