Rapheal

     Mom was the first out of the car,followed closely by dad. I was the last one out. Trying to enjoy my time pre exchange kid. We waited for him for a good thirty minutes. I was the first to see him as he approached. I don't know how but I knew that he was going to be the guy living down the hall from me.

     I knew mom was going to comment about me stairing later but I couldn't help it. He had golden olive skin, dark brown curls and green hazel eyes that could melt anyone's heart. I decided that I was going to do a painting of him within seconds of seeing him.

     He walked up to us so calmly. Looking at my father, he said, "Thank you Mr.Kerrigan. I highly appreciate you letting me stay at your home. I will help out in any way I can, it is the least I can do." Dad didn't have time to refuse him as he turned his gaze to mom. "Mrs. Kerrigan, you are a beautiful and kind woman. I hope that one day soon I may think of you like my own mother." Then lastly he turned his gaze to me. His eyes that had seemed warm and loving now looked scorching. "You must be Bronwyn. I cannot wait to get to know you better."

     If there was one thing that had to be said about Rapheal it was that he knew how to charm you. We all stood in silence before mother broke it. Her voice soft  and gentle, a sound I haven't known for years as she asked, "Well, Rapheal it is very nice to finally meet you as well. I can't wait to have you all moved in." She gave him a hug before asking, "Now Rapheal what do you want us to call you?"

     Answering mother while he picked his luggage up to put it into the car, "I go by Rafe back home." His accent was one I knew would make all the girls at school swoon. They were simple and he was something new and shiny. Not that it was any of my buisness. I had one thing to focus on right now and that was the gallery.

     As if my thoughts were written out for him to read he asked,"So Bronwyn, I here you are an artist. Perhaps you can show me some of your pieces."

     The cars low mumble was making me relax though Rafe was making me heated. "Yeah, I paint and rarely I sculpt." I answered. Then I realized something that my parents failed to realize. Though we had talked to Rafe many times prior to his arrival we had never discussed my art. I leaned into him, not hard to do since the car is a four seater, and asked, "How did you know that? We never told you about my art."

     His only answer was, "You have the look of an artist." That was the last thing anyone said the rest of the way home. Since his flight had arrived at only 4:30, mom had time to cook. We asked if he needed help unpacking and he said no.