Shades of Truth by Naomi Kinsman

Author:Naomi Kinsman [Kinsman,Naomi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-310-72663-0
Publisher: Zonderkidz
Published: 2011-08-27T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Shading

I slid into the seat next to Ruth at lunch. “Are you ready for your report?”

She finished her bite of celery and then said, “Yeah. I’m doing it on family.”

Maybe I should have decided what to say before I sat down, because now, watching Ruth eat celery, my mind flooded with questions I couldn’t ask. Did you tell on the boys and let me take the blame? Do you really not believe me?

Before I could sort out my thoughts, Frankie appeared and leaned across our table toward Ruth. “So, I’ve talked to every single seventh grader, and no one seems to have told on the boys. Sadie here insists she didn’t do it, and I’m starting to wonder if she’s right. So that leaves one person.”

“Leave me alone, Frankie.”

“What’s the squeaky-clean pastor’s kid more likely to do? Tell, because she’s so pure and innocent and can’t have anything weighing down her conscience? Even when that means letting her new friend take all the blame?”

Ruth ripped the peel off her orange. “Go away, Frankie.”

Frankie gave her one last glare and began talking to Ty. As soon as I was sure Frankie was totally preoccupied, I said in a low voice, “Ruth —”

“I suppose you don’t want to come to youth group with me tomorrow?”

“I never said …”

“I thought all this was over.” Ruth shoved all of her garbage into her lunch bag and stood up. “I hate being a pastor’s kid.”

After she walked away, I didn’t find another chance to talk to her all day. She hadn’t admitted anything, but she hadn’t denied Frankie’s accusation either. My anger grew all day, anger punctuated by each gunshot that echoed through the woods and into our open classroom window.

By the time I sat down to work in the blue room, anger sizzled out of my fingers. Peter walked into the art studio with a plate of cookies, just as I was busy attacking my page with the graphite stick.

“Woah!” He set the cookies down on the table. “I didn’t realize drawing was a contact sport.”

“Why am I doing this?” I looked at my blackened fingers and the dark box on my page. “I can’t draw over this.”

Peter exchanged a look with Vivian before grabbing a cookie. “Later, gators.”

As he left, Vivian walked over and stood behind my shoulder. “Maybe you can try again, more lightly. We’re going for a light silvery gray.”

I drew a new box on fresh paper and tried to rub more lightly. The paper ripped, and I shoved the book away.

Vivian looked me directly in the eyes and then nodded. “Right. We’ll do this lesson backward.”

“I can’t even do it forward.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”

She led me through the kitchen into a small cement-walled room. A pile of brightly colored dishes waited in a stack on the floor. Vivian flipped a switch and the room filled with colored light: red, orange, blue, purple, and yellow.

“What are we doing?” I asked.

Vivian picked up a blue plate.

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