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Julie smiled and hugged me. “Thank you. I love you, too. I hate that I have to do this, but I think ideally it will make us stronger because when I finish school, I’ll be a much stronger, happier person. It will help me develop the person that I want to be. And that will be better for us together, as a family.”
Family. That was the first time I believed I had heard Julie use that word to describe the three of us. I knew then that I would definitely marry her one day. For now, I would continue to shop for the perfect ring. And when the time was right, I would propose to this wonderful woman.
Three weeks later, I drove Julie to the airport and Zoe and I watched as she got on the airplane heading to New York. She was not going to need a car on campus. She said she didn’t want the distraction of it, anyway. I could understand that. Or at least I was trying to.
I just wasn’t sure how this was going to end. But I knew that I had no say in the matter. Only time would tell.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Julie
One Month Later…
I finished the painting I’d been working on all week and stepped back to take an exhausted look at it. It had been a crazy few weeks and I’d barely slept. The deadlines that my classes had me under, half the time were insane. Art took time to achieve. It wasn’t something you could crank out like you were a machine. But these idiot professors just didn’t seem to get it. And they would critique your work, something they couldn’t do in ten years, and tell you where you went wrong and berate you that it was a few days late. That was rich.
I’d been at school a month and I already hated it. It was not nearly as glamorous as I thought it might be. I thought my days would be filled with making friends who were also artists and we’d critique each other’s work and talk about art, while basically doing the same thing in class. I thought we would support each other and have a wonderful thriving community of artists all being together and growing, similar to the music scene in Greenwich Village back in the sixties. That was the vision I had in my head.
But I quickly discovered that most of the students were not real artists. They were narcissists who craved attention and validation for their mediocre work and talent. They would ridicule anyone they perceived as the slightest threat to their greatness and they would suck up to the professors as much as possible. The professors were the same way. It seemed that the only good artists in the classes were constantly told that they were not good enough. I’d seen a few of them in tears.
So far, most of the feedback I’d received had been mediocre. But I was not going to let it get to me. I was not going to be beaten down by anyone, including embittered professors who were far past their primes, not that they ever really had any.
School had turned me a little bitter too. I missed Ricky. I missed Zoe. I missed working on my art without outside interference. I missed creating what I wanted to create and doing it on my own terms. I always hoped others would like it, but deep down it all belonged to me. I had to be happy with it. That was the key.
“That looks great,” a voice behind me said. I turned to see Angie Cline, my roommate walking into our room where I was finishing up. Angie was one of the relatively sane people in the school. She was timid and shy. She was just starting to really find her stride as a painter, but she was coming along by leaps and bounds. At least I thought so. I wished that she could have been given a good dose of confidence. That would have done wonders for the girl.
She was the exact opposite of Tessa, who I talked with on the phone at least once a week. I missed her and my old friends. I missed my family. I missed everyone. I wasn’t sure I really belonged here anymore and I was starting to think that I might pack it in and go home.
“Thanks, Angie,” I said.
“Do you think Ricky will like it?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him in a few days, actually.”
“I hope you guys are ok.”
“Yeah, we are fine. He’s been busy and so have I. But now I’ve got this done and I’ll have a few days where I can actually get some time to call him.”
Angie smiled. I hated lying to her. Things with Ricky were not as good as they could have been. Ever since the fight that day in the park, we had not been quite as close. We still loved each other greatly and we had amazing sex during the last few weeks before I left for school. But I could feel that there was something off in our relationship. There was just something there that was now missing.
I had actually accused him of trying to get in my way. But I’d felt that. It was why I’d said it. I just shouldn’t have said it then in the heat of the moment. It was really more of a feeling than a thought. I wasn’t even sure I really believed that in any way. I knew I’d hurt him with some of my comments, but he’d hurt me too.
The long distance thing had been tough. It was so much harder than I thought it could be. Not being with someone would literally make you lose some of the attraction and feelings you had for them. It was like Ricky had started to stale off in my mind just a little bit, and I had to really work hard to try to keep that connection going. The thing that helped most was how unhappy and lonely I was at school. I missed that sweet love we had. I missed Zoe.
“I’m going to get something to eat. Do you want anything?” I asked.
“No,” Angie replied.
I left the dorm room and started walking towards the MoNally’s restaurant on the corner. It was a good burger joint that all of the students frequented. They were close and cheap. And I was starving. I’d started working that morning and I had forgotten to eat during the last twelve hours. I was now famished.
I was almost to the restaurant when I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It startled me and I stepped back. The walkway was dark since the streetlamp had burnt out. I could see nothing. There was no one else around. I couldn’t help but feel a bit spooked.
“Who’s there?” I called. I was still a good two hundred yards from the restaurant. And it seemed that everyone else was attending the party in one of the other dormitories. That’s where I wished I was. But work always came first.
“Oh, don’t be frightened,” the voice said. A man’s voice. All I could see was a dark figure standing in the shadows. Slowly, he stepped forward coming into the slight reflection of the lights from the main walkway. I could barely make him out, but the voice belonged to Frank Murray, a senior in one of my painting classes. He was taking it as an elective since he primarily sculpted. I’d noticed him checking me out several times in class, always giving me a weird eye.
“Frank?” I asked. “What are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” he said shrugging. “I wasn’t sure if it was you or not. There are a lot of weirdos around.”
