She grinned at him. "I'm trying to suggest that you're heartless," she said. "But it's not a very funny joke."
"That makes it sound like you're not enjoying yourself!" Poppy said cheerfully, glancing over her shoulder at him.
"I don't think Evan beat you up purely from this project," she said quietly, leaning against the wall. "It would have happened eventually anyway."
"No, you got beat up because he doesn't like you. And also, why do we always end up talking about Evan? You'd think that we would be able to find something else to talk about."
She looked back at him, her eyes narrowed in sympathy. "I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I know he packs a pretty good hit."
"It's okay," he said. "It wasn't your fault." He lifted up his shirt for a moment, revealing a bruise where he had been kicked. "He sucks."
"Jesus, Craw," Poppy said, shaking her head. "You know, I developed a salve a couple of years back that should take away the aching. I kept falling out of trees. I could bring you some tomorrow."
"Good," she said with a nod. She pulled the tray out and set it down. Peering at the clay, she poked them lightly. "I think they're done," she said cautiously. "Do you want to paint them here, or should I just do them at home? I'm fine either way."
