we're saving money It was the little things, like that casual "we" that both made Jackson nervous as all hell and relaxed him at the same time for how easily it was said. His hand tightened on Gatsby's, and he grinned. "I'm wowed," he said. "And impressed. You went to trouble for me."
He caught the scent of paints in the background; the spaces for each of the arts had a different scent. Oil and acrylic here, sweat and salt in the dance room, something faintly metallic or leather in the music room. He knew exactly what Gatsby meant about feeling comfortable, and the thought made him grin again. "Maybe I should've brought my guitar. I never feel awkward when I've got it."
But if he had a guitar in his hand, he couldn't do what he was doing right now, either, and he decided he rather like the warmth of Gatsby's hand in his instead.