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I blink at him. “You don’t trust yourself anymore, with anything, do you?”
“No.”
I want to punch him and hug him. I want to scream and weep. How could he do something so despicable? “I don’t know what to say.”
“There’s nothing to say.” We stand there for a moment in an uncomfortable silence. Josh turns away and leaves without another word.
CHAPTER 7
The rest of the week crawls by at slug speed. College was supposed to be this glorious chance to start over, to be the woman I always wanted to become. The problems that flared up around me like little evil infernos prevent me from s
eeing that far ahead. I’ve been in survival mode the entire time I’ve been here, patching things up with tape instead of actually repairing anything the right way. That would have taken too much time, and that’s a luxury that I don’t possess. My life is covered in Band-Aids at the moment and there’s no reprieve in sight. At least I have Beth. She’s been a true friend when everyone else disappointed.
Beth strides next to me as we walk across campus. The sky is inky and littered with stars. It’s late Saturday night and we’re both wearing ankle length full skirts with floral prints. Beth gave me mine as a present and I’m surprised how much I like it. I figured I’d trip over the hem, but so far there’s no problem. Coupled with a t-shirt and flip-flops, I feel cool, confident, and pretty, which is a nice combination.
I’ve wanted to talk to Beth about my meeting with Ferro tomorrow and get her caught up on Carter. I have no idea how to talk to her about Josh, so I don’t. I have to finish a painting I’ve been working on all semester and we were given access to the building on weekends in order to complete the assignment. I pull out my ID card, swipe it through the card reader, yank open the glass door, letting Beth pass through.
She glances over her shoulder, speaking as she walks. “I can’t imagine what he wants to ask you to do. The guy thinks you’re a criminal.”
I step in behind her and make sure the door closes and latches shut behind me. I don’t like being in the dark halls by myself at night. The building creaks and makes freaky sounds. “Not anymore. If he didn’t look me up as soon as I left, I’d die of shock.”
As we make our way up the staircase and down the darkened halls, there is amber light spilling beneath Nate’s office door as we pass by. Is he still here? I glance at my Fitbit to check the time, still wearing it because I’m worried about Carter ratting me out. It’s after ten. Why is Nate still here? I haven’t seen him outside of class after the night we were together. Since then he’s acted distant, detached. It irks me if I think about it too long, so I don’t think about it at all.
“Hottie is here, huh?” Beth tips her head toward the door as we walk by, her long skirt billowing around her ankles.
“Apparently.”
“Maybe he’s waiting for a booty call.” She smirks. When she sees the look on my face her smile falls. “What’s wrong?”
After we’re in the classroom, I flick the lights on and close the door. When I’m sure no one else is there, I confide in her, finally telling her what happened with Carter. “He’s tracking me with this. I can’t take it off or he’ll tell the dean and then I’m toast. Everything I worked for, all the respect I earned will be gone. If anything, Nate has been grading me harder to compensate for things. That’s the only class where I didn’t pull straight A’s. Beth, I don’t know what to do.”
Beth’s small face pinches together as she listens. “What an asshole.”
“Carter isn’t who I thought he was.”
“I’m sorry. I know how much that has to sting right now.”
“It does, but I don’t want him to lose it and say something. I’m the one who pissed him off, and I don’t want to take Nate down with me.”
“So there’s only one thing to do. Stop seeing Nate.”
I pull out my canvas as we are talking and put it on the easel. Then I grab my pallet, brushes, and paint and start mixing my colors. As I blend the right hues, I say, “I have, but there’s no promise Carter won’t say anything. He was really mad. He thinks I cheated.”
“Cheated with what?” Beth sits on the floor and leans back against a cabinet.
“I’m in upper level classes. It’s unusual.”
“Uhm, did he look at your work? It’s not like you’re drawing stick men, Kerry. You’re good at this.” She gestures to my painting. “I really like that. It’s different.”
“Thanks.” I step back, and examine my work before taking a brush to it again. It’s a dark piece made of swirling lines. A young girl wears a white shift. Her back is to us, and she’s standing in a garden facing an open gate that leads into darkness. I didn’t plan this piece. It just happened. I wonder how much of this reflects my life and cringe at making my thoughts so visible.
“What else do you need to do to it? It looks finished to me.”
I stand there, staring at it. “I wish I knew, but it’s not done. There’s something missing.”
The highlights and shadows are well distributed. The focal point is clear. The flow of the piece allows the eye to enter, rest on the focal point, and move through the work easily. It’s not an issue with the composition or the color, but something about it is lacking.
As I stand there and think, I tweak some highlights and shadows, but it doesn’t finish the piece. Beth and I talk for over an hour and eventually she pushes up off the floor. “I need to head back. Josh will have a fit if I’m not at the house tonight and I still need to crank out a paper before morning.”
