“Harper said you’re an artist?” Kayla breezes in, pale hair fanned out over her long coat. “Like a sculptor or…”

I relax. “I’m into painting, mostly. Landscapes and cities.”

“What’s your inspiration?” Josh asks quietly.

I shift on my feet, feeling keenly aware of the fact that two attractive college guys are looking at me, waiting for a response. I’m grateful art is the subject. Art, I can talk about. Art is the center of my universe. I know I probably can’t make money creating it, but I want it in my life. I can teach it. Or curate it. Or restore it. Art itself is the thing that inspires everything else. But I know that’s not what he’s looking for.

“My biggest influences are Gustav Klimt and Jacob Lawrence, but for entirely different reasons. They’re nothing alike, but they both move me.”

Josh tilts his head. “That’s what moves you? I thought art was inspired by real life, not other artists.”

I laugh. “Well, yes, but most of the artists I know are inspired by better artists. When we connect with someone else’s work it inspires our own. Those connections are everything.”

“Connections,” Josh says slowly, smile widening. I can’t decide if it’s cute or if he’s teasing me, and I don’t really care, so I smile back and turn to the car.

It’s pretty swanky for a rental. Leather seats and cup holders in so many places that we’d probably need three drinks apiece to fill them. We load in without much discussion. Harper fiddles with the emergency kit, unzipping and zipping before she slides into the driver’s seat. Brecken sits beside her in the front, and Kayla gets in the back next to me. Harper’s back to texting, and Brecken pores over a map on his phone. Josh is rearranging his bag in the back, so I could get out and force him to take the middle, but honestly it feels like a crap thing to do to a guy on crutches. When he gets in next to me, I shift over to make a little more room for him.

It’s weird, being in a car with four strangers. I’m instantly glad Brecken’s up front. He’s all nervous energy, talking fast about alternate routes and weather forecasts. He sounds dire, but honestly the roads are beyond fine. And Brecken strikes me as…intense. Maybe it’s his eyes. Or all the jittering. Either way, I’m glad we’re not rubbing elbows.

My seatmates are low key in comparison. Kayla’s propped against the window like she’s ready to nap, and Josh is fiddling with his crutches. They’re making the cramped back seat even more cramped.