I’ve avoided speaking to Siler, sticking to texting instead. I’m afraid I’ll slip up and tell him what I did with the bracelet he gave me.
My parents have left a couple of messages asking how I’ve been feeling. They deserve more than a vague text back, but they feel so removed from my life, like strangers.
My appointment with Dr. Fraine is tomorrow morning, but I’ve been tempted to cancel it. Since I’ve been here, I’ve only had a couple of instances of being short of breath.
Well, if I don’t count the memories that have cropped up.
“...Place that leaning against the desk. It’s too big to hang.” JJ points as he turns back to repairing the loose handle on the door.
A local artist loaned their work to the gallery for an event tomorrow night. This picture shows Commons Hall at Rock Am painted in the fall. I wonder if I’ll see it tomorrow when I’m on the campus. The mystery surrounding the place gives me some anxiety. Unlike Cornell, which is open to the general public, Rock Am is gated, and admittance is granted through the Regents Office.
It would be easier if Dr. Fraine’s office wasn’t on the Rockefeller Amherst campus, but nothing about my medical mystery has ever been simple, so why should this be any different?
JJ shoulder shimmies to the upbeat music filling the gallery while I sneak a quick peek at him. Sometimes I worry he’ll catch me staring and out my growing crush.
“Are there more paintings to set out for tomorrow?” I call out over the music.
“In the back, by the tapestry rack.”
The smell of the back room has become a soothing favorite. Old, preserved fabrics, paint, even the fresh scent from the humidity controller. I move the green hatbox of drawings JJ keeps aside to pick up the box containing more artwork, but in my haste, the hatbox tips over.
“...That’s mine,” the mystery boy says playfully. “This one is mine.” He plucks the drawing out of my hands, then quickly kisses my temple. The smell of his aftershave makes me suck in a deep breath.
I turn to watch him admire the picture.
The scrape of the wooden chair against the floor is loud as I lunge at him with a laugh. “Hey, it’s not done…”
He backs away from me, tucking it into his pants pocket. “Biz, it’s perfect the way it is. Just like you.”
An alarmed voice shakes me out of the memory. I’m lying on the back room floor, clutching a stack of drawings, blood from my nose covering my upper lip. JJ stares down at me. “What happened?”
Damn it. I want to tell him everything. The memories, the problems I’ve had for months. I want to unload it all, but I can’t do it.
Alone. I can handle all of this alone. Don’t scare away the only friend you’ve managed to make here.
He gives me a hand to help me sit up. I cover my bloody nose with a cupped hand as I cough, scanning the room for a tissue or towel.
My voice muffled, I reply, “I tripped, no big deal.”
“You sure, darlin’?”
He watches me closely as I turn slightly, wiping my upper lip and nose with the inside of my sweater sleeve. Gross move, but I don’t need the scrutiny a bloody nose could bring.
My mood is subdued as we finish up preparations. The longing these memories bring settles heavily in my chest. All I can do is nod at JJ while he talks about the pieces we’re placing.
“...The play of colors on this one is exceptional. See how the blend here looks like…” He stops when he looks at me. Frowning, he continues, “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”
Not in the slightest.
Wiping my hands down my legs, I respond, “Do you have a favorite piece?” I decide to go with a nonanswer, since lying to Josh is getting harder. He's been nothing but incredibly sweet to me. Bringing me my favorite apple cinnamon muffins from thebakery across the street, walking me to campus, getting me this job…
I won’t say he’s replaced Siler, but he’s the only friend I’ve made in Ithaca. I’ve been tempted to text Mya once or twice, but all I need to do is remember her dismissiveness to stop me.
He moves closer, his dazzling smile spreading across his face. “I do. It’s a painting from J.D. Rockefeller’s personal collection that hangs in the Regents’ Great Hall at Rock Am, calledThe Divines. I’ll have to show it to you sometime. Breathtaking.”
“Tell me about it… an angel and demon thing?” Good. We’ve moved past my issues. Besides, JJ loves to talk and tell me stories.
“Hard truths are usually shrouded in secrets.” Leaning against the desk, his eyes search mine, the intensity making me break eye contact.
