I stumbled into the kitchen, my vision blurry from lack of sleep and caked-on eyeliner that had smeared like a chocolate bar in the summer heat.

I was greeted by my overly chipper parents, nursing their coffee and tea before making their way to work.

I bet this will wake you up, my mom said, finding me bumping into the counter as I reached for a mug. Alexanders in the paper!

My eyelids shot open like a rocket.

Where is it? I scoured the countertop and dinette. Do you have it?

I think Billy read it last.

Billy? You let Billy touch it? I was horrified. How could you! I know he got his snotty paws all over it! He probably mangled the whole thing!

Calm down, my father said.

I stormed upstairs to find my brothers door locked. I banged so hard, my fist pulsed with pain.

Itll cost you, I heard him yell back.

It will cost youan arm and a leg!

The door slowly opened and I pushed myself inside. Billy was nowhere to be found. I jerked open his closet door, then heard his nerdy little voice from behind me.

He says he sleeps in a coffin! he teased.

What?

I spun around. Billy was standing at his door with the Gazette in his smarmy little hand.

Im not sure who took off first. We both tore down the stairs as Billy cried, Mom, shes trying to kill me!

Nerd Boy I screeched, as Id done all his life.

I hadnt called him that name in months, but in my anger it just naturally rang out.

I tackled him before he reached the kitchen. I tried to wrangle the paper out of his hand as he pleaded with my parents for help.

It had been a while since we had a major sibling blowout bodyslam event, and he had grown stronger. It took all my might to hold him at bay.

Raven, get off him, my dad shouted.

Billy, give your sister the paper! my mom ordered.

Shes sitting on my chest! Billy hollered.

My dad pulled me off my brother by my woven belt, and I grabbed the paper from his hand.

I took off for my room, locked the door behind me, and hopped onto my bed. I spread out the paper and carefully tried to smooth the wrinkles.

    

Staring back at me on the front page of the Arts section was my boyfriend, with the caption An Artist Amongst Us.

He is so handsome! I cheered.

OUR TOWNS BEST-KEPT SECRET. A budding young artist, hiding out on Benson Hill.

Id always heard ghost stories about the Mansion on Benson Hill, but I didnt see any spirits wandering through the halls. I was invited into an old-fashioned estate with a reclusive teen. Homeschooled his whole life, Alexander spends his days and nights painting.

What is his inspiration? I asked him.

A girl named Raven, he replied.

Though I only saw the first floor, the rest of the Mansion appeared the same. He claims to sleep in a coffin and have a wine cellar straight from Transylvania. This artist might as well be a writer, too. But this interviewer wasnt fooled. The only thing he was really hiding was his talent. Though Alexander Sterling may be able to spin a yarn, he is also able to paint.

There is more to this artist than could ever be told. It has to be seen. All you need to do is take a look at one of his paintings. You can see how he loves this town and the people who inhabit it.

Do you want to be famous? Like Picasso, Dal��Monet? I asked him.

No, he said. I just want to be likeme.

I riffled through my desk and found some tape. I placed my boyfriends article right over my headboard.

Even wrinkled, Alexander Sterling was still the most gorgeous guy Id ever seen.