The Art of You

13 | Spider Web

"Are you gonna tell me what's going on between you and Preston?" Reva gawked, leaning against the wall. "You were with him last night, now this morning... any other times I should know about?"

I threw myself onto the couch like a rag doll. "He comes to the studio," I mumbled into the cushions.

"Huh?"

"He comes to the studio and bothers me while I paint. Now he just keeps showing up everywhere, I can't get away."

Reva's stoic face twisted into a wicked smile. "Holy shit, he likes you."

"No," I said, "I don't know why, but I think he wants in my pants."

She narrowed her eyes. "Sade, you think that puppy dog of a man just wants in your pants? He dropped your car off, drove you home last night and picked us up, took the fall for you in class..." she knocks on the side of my head lightly. "You have to get out of this skull of yours."

I exhaled.

"I know how you feel," she continued. "You had this exact conversation with me not too long ago and now look at Penelope and me."

"I'm so happy for you both. Penelope is great." I beamed and stood, telling Reva I needed to get ready for my shift. I'd love to hear about her and Penelope. I could listen for hours about how happy she was, but she would eventually turn the conversation back on me and that was the last thing I wanted.

"Sadie." She called my name before I disappeared into my cave. "Promise me you are okay?"

I paused. "Yep, I'm okay."

ON MONDAY, I walked into the studio and scanned the room like an FBI agent. It was pristine, with no trace of me or Elijah. No leftover tea light candles or beer bottles, only the image of us tucked away in the furthest corner of the room.

I sat at my easel, making small talk with the other students as we worked on our current project. To say I was ecstatic to not be working on the sad girl portrait was an understatement.

However, I couldn't focus.

I hadn't heard from Elijah since he dropped my car off. As the days passed, my mind conjured so many unrealistic scenarios, despite knowing he was getting ready for a big away game this week.

Yet, my daily thoughts did not come close to my night thoughts. If people knew what I imagined in bed, my face would flush and I'd have to squeeze my thighs together to keep my cool.

You need help, my conscience scolded, but boy, did I already know.

When class was over, I hung up my apron and joined my professor at her desk to tell her my project was finished and laying on rack two. She smiled. "I saw it this morning. You did a great job. I appreciate your hard work and am still sorry for the baseball incident."

"It's not your fault," I chuckled. It's Elijah's, I wanted to say but didn't. Instead, I dug the key to the building out of my backpack and handed it to her. When she took it, my heart cracked.

No more studio sessions. No more Elijah barging in and driving me up a wall. Now, I needed to find a new painting spot.

"Ah, thank you. I'll have the projected graded soon."

After thanking her, I strolled to The Coffee Shack to do homework.

Maintenance crews were scattered around campus cleaning up remnants from the storm. I hadn't realized how hard it hit until I saw the damage to the beachfront homes on the news. I supposed being stuck in a sturdy brick building with a muscular man wasn't such a bad thing after all.