Your sketchbook?

Still getting the hang of coloring in Photoshop elements. But I also spent some time writing down the story I had when creating these scenes. A look at Kenny while covered in the green hood of his.
A small section explains the title:

“You…came back. Shouldn’t have come back. Why?”
“Kenny?” I started to explain, rather quickly and loud. He winced visibly. So I slowed down. Max had padded over to my bag and was nosing it.
“Your sketchbook? That book…” he dropped his arm and turned. “…Yes, I had seen it.”
Oh no. “You didn’t peek inside it, did you? It’s…like…” I signaled like I was embarrassed. “my diary.”
I could barely see it, but his cheeks reddened. “Didn’t mean to. The pictures were pretty.”
Now I felt my own cheeks redden. Pretty?  My drawing was what I hardly called good, let alone pretty. He pulled it out from under a cover. I took it abruptly, hugging it to my chest.

Edit: Art club win for January, bank display.