My chest fills with my raspberry tea's steam and I pick up my jacket. I lick my lips and the air outside dries them quickly. A calm shiver runs from my shoulders down to my wrists. There's no snow on the ground yet, but I wish there were. The crunch of fresh snow under my boots always echoes inside my body. Amidst the heavy clouds, some sunlight peeks through. Its rays are stunted by the dewy mist in the air. The mist hangs low, clinging; a timid embrace. My skin chills, although I anticipate nothing.
I love sweeping my thick brushes, dripping with color, onto a plain canvas. I'm creating something that wasn't there a moment before. My arms and hands do what they please and I let it happen. I've always painted or drawn, ever since I was young. I was always in detention for not paying attention in class because I was drawing on my homework or tests. My cousin Pam accidentally threw up on one of my pieces I did in high school when she was sick with the flu. Cassie always jokes that my work evokes a high amount of emotion. I really want to paint Cassie. Her innocence.
From the window of the studio, my eyes trace outlines and profiles in the mist. My hand, suspended in front of the canvas, is steady. I am a fountain, stone and marble, spouting endless ounces. My cheeks relax and the window fogs over, leaving my mind to trace new outlines. I end up painting a large shape, like an odd oval. There are short spikes, or growths, coming out from all angles. I lean back in my seat. It almost looks like.... I've drawn a potato. Jake walks past. His jeans are splattered with paint and he smells like lemon. The soap by the sink.
"That's not your project, is it?" His face not sarcastic, but intrigued.
"No, no absolutely not. I don't think a potato counts as part of my deepest desires. Unless I was on Atkins." Jake still stares, interested, at my potato. My colorful, funky potato.
"A potato? No, it's a cell. Something not yet born. See these flecks on the outside? Yeah... It's like an amoeba or some original cell that hasn't been discovered yet."
"Original?"
"Yeah, you know... primitive. That's the word. It feels very primitive. Did you just draw this?" He turns his head and really looks at me, right into my eyes. It's hypnotic.
"Yes. Just now." His gaze is making me blush. He senses that and moves a bit further away, hands seeking pockets. He's a nice guy, but I've never seen him like this. He's always so quiet.
"Well, don't throw it away. It's fantastic. It's very moving." He walks away facing me and not letting go of our eye contact. My mind wants me to make him stay there, but my mouth is mute. Say something! Say something!
"Thanks." Idiot!
"I'll see you around." He turns away from me now and my eyes follow him out the door. I turn back to my funky potato... or rather my primitive cell. It could be so many things. He wanted it to be something potential. I wanted it to be a potato. He saw it as moving and emotional. I saw it as shapes and colors.
I drag myself off my stool and put my canvas away. My shoulders feel heavy and my temples are beginning to throb. The brightness of the sky is nearly overwhelming. Like coming out of a dark theater in the middle of the day. The clouds have released the sun, but it's not warm enough to feel happy. Wind makes the leaves on the ground dance; twirling around each other in a reluctant tango.
Maybe I should take up Cassie on her offer. Of course, everywhere's beautiful when it's summertime. Even if I'm cramped into her tiny studio apartment, I need to visit her. I'll surprise her. I'll come see her over Christmas break.
I hurry into my building, just as it starts to cloud over again, the wind getting stronger. I shake off a few leaves attached to my shoes and sigh as I close my door behind me. My bag slumps when it hits the floor and my nose starts to run after I take off my jacket and shoes. I boot up my laptop and check for flights. The prices are good. Cross-country flights that are non-stop are always the best. Then I don't have to schlep my bag around an airport. A cheap, non-stop flight to Seattle, staring at me. I buy it. I guess I have to tell her soon then.
Suddenly, my shoulders aren't as heavy and my temples only throb slightly. I undress and take a shower. The hot water feels good against my cold feet and hands. I let it massage my back muscles with its strong pounding force and the heat helps too. When I'm out and drying off, my head starts to feel woozy. I jump into my warmest pajamas and climb into my bed. My comforter is cozy, as I wrap myself up inside it. My eyes close as I lie against the pillow. My whole body is tired. My arms are limp and I can't move them quickly. I grin. I love this feeling of exhaustion. Because eventually, it feels so good to fall asleep.
Three days later in class, Kyle is passing notes to me. Your hair is beautiful today. What do you do to it? I reply, Nothing. It's wild. He replies, Just like you. I smile and start writing my reply, except I have nothing to say. How do you respond to that?
We actually did go shopping. He bought shampoo, soap and hair gel. I picked out some ugly socks for him. And he bought them just to spite me. But we laughed and joked and didn't kiss. I knew I'd have another chance.
My hand stays still, hanging above the note. My eyes stare into the distance, as if I can see something through the wall. What's-his-name was fun in bed. But there was something about him I couldn't stand. Maybe it was his smirk, or his arrogant laugh. Brian, too clingy. Paul, who was much too handsome for me. He used my bathroom mirror twice as much as I did. Freddie. Actually, Freddie wasn't that bad. Until his girlfriend got involved. But Kyle....
Kyle makes me laugh. His smile makes me smile. And there's something about the way he walks and carries himself. He talks about new things he's learning like it's a secret. A big, wonderful, mysterious secret. He showed me some photos of his family yesterday. And he didn't try anything with me. No fumbling hands attacking me or the unwanted, lingering hug. But he looks at me like he wants to kiss me. Well, sometimes. Other times, he looks at me as if I'm saying something really interesting. He said he thinks I'm really talented.
His finger taps me on the shoulder. Snapped back to reality. The professor starts asking questions about our assignments from yesterday. I fold the note up and stuff it in my pocket. I hear Kyle sit back in his seat.
Oh God... Now, I'm nervous. My mind is a blur. Images of Kyle and me doing fun things together. Images of us fighting. I wonder how he gets angry. Even an image of him painting a sunset. I shake my head and close my eyes. Class ends and I head for the door, my car. In the parking lot, Kyle jogs after me.
"Whoa there, girlie." He's a little out of breath, but not by much. I turn toward him, a fake smile.
"Yeah, Kyle... What's up?"
"What's up?! What's up with you? What's with the face?" He looks confused.
"Face? What face?" I am a terrible liar. Always was.
"You can't fool me. Something is definitely up." He pauses, his voice lowering. "Was it my notes?" He looks a little concerned.
"Of course not. But I have to head home."
"Well, you saw my place. It's time I saw yours. You have a photo album somewhere too, I'm sure." He walks over to the passenger side door. He smiles at me sweetly and I can't say no.
"You're right. It is your turn. But I'm afraid I don't have any albums." I open my car and we get in. My small car forces us to sit very close together. I'm completely nervous again, my stomach fluttering.
"Giddy up!," he quips.
The drive is almost silent. We both try to make small talk, but we end up with nothing left to say. It's very uncomfortable and he tries to shift in his seat, which makes me laugh. My seats aren't meant for movement. Especially when you're a big, broad-shouldered guy.
When I park, he gratefully gets out and stretches his legs. I lead the way upstairs to my door. Jasmine is outside her door, locking it with her back towards us. She turns around and nearly jumps when she sees us.
"Jesus, Ang! You scared the shit out of me." She notices Kyle and immediately straightens her posture, arching her back so her breasts point out. He smiles, a slightly stifled laugh. "So, are you two staying in tonight?"
"Uh, no. Just hanging out."
"Oh really. Well, I'm just down the hall. I'll be back later tonight, maybe 8-ish. So, if you're bored of hanging out..." I grab Kyle's hand and drag him to my door.
"Yeah, thanks Jas. Bye!" I quickly open the door and shove him inside. Before entering, I flick her the finger. She mouths "Fuck you" and grins. I close the door behind me. Kyle is looking at my charcoals by the window.
"Who was that?" His eyebrow arched.
"Nobody," I say with emphasis.
"I think that was a somebody." He picks up my charcoal of the sunrise.
"This is beautiful. It looks real."
"Except for the colors." I walk over to my hotplate to heat some water.
"But it looks real. Even without the colors. Because I can imagine the colors. It was bright pink. Or at least that's how I see it. Was it pink?"
"Some of it was." I sit next to him and point to where the colors were. A line of deep red, bleeding into oranges and pinks. I'm leaning across him. My shoulder almost brushing his chin. I lean back slowly, our eyes catch. My breath comes slower and deeper to me. His eyes move from my eyes to my mouth. His cheeks look a bit flushed. Without knowing, my body reacts to his. I'm moving closer to him, my lips parting. When our lips are about to touch, something pulls me back. It feels too right. I don't know if Kyle sensed it or not, but he moves quickly. His hand wraps around my head and his lips come crashing onto mine. At first, it's both surprising and painful, my lips hit my teeth. But he moves his lips again and we're kissing.
It's a strange feeling. His lips against mine are warm and comforting. But there's a tiny part of me that wants to stop and think about why I shouldn't be kissing him. There's things he doesn't need to know about me. But if this goes any further, he might find out. He's such a nice guy. His hands have crept up to my face. He's holding my face now, running a finger along my jaw line. It's a sweet kiss, without any sexual agenda. Ultimately, the part of me that loves to be kissed wins.
I kiss back with more energy now, a sound catching in his throat. I lean into him a bit and we're holding each other suddenly. My hands grip his shirt, pulling him towards me. His arms around me, holding me closer to him. When my mind starts to shut down and just let my body feel, Kyle slows down and eventually breaks the kiss. Our faces are still very close together and his breath on my cheek is hot. I let go of his shirt, embarrassed by my eagerness. We laugh and look away from each other.
"So..." He sighs, his face bright with a smile.
"So..." I smile back at him, forcing doubts into the back of my mind. It's an intimate moment, no longer kissing. My lips throb a bit and my chest wells up with a sense of satisfaction. Neither of us wants to move. We sit close to each other, still. His hands reach for mine and he circles a thumb inside my palm.
"I like this, " he says. His eyes look into mine and I notice the color isn't all blue. There are hints of bright green inside them. I learn something new about this guy everyday.
"I do too," I say.