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“Good.”
I hang up the phone, stuffing it back in its place before looking around at the apartments and houses surrounding me. What now? Seth and Alex are at practice, Lucas is at work, and Rachel should be at the art school working on her projects for the May Art Market. I have a key, but I don’t want to enter their place without them actually being there. I’m sure none of them would care, but it seems weird to me. It’s not like I can do anything there but wait for them to return home anyway.
Maybe I could try Rachel? She can listen to me while she draws, right? And if that doesn’t work, I can always get a coffee at Lucas’s cafe. I slowly get out of my car and my legs wobble the moment I put weight on them. Locking the car, I head towards campus. It’s a beautiful sunny day. The breeze is blowing lightly. A group of guys are throwing a football back and forth in the quad. It’s the perfect day to get a run in or have a picnic. Yet, even as I walk through the crowds of students walking from class to class, my gaze searches for Millie, wondering if she’s decided to give up on looking at the gym. Although, the gym is about twenty minutes away. I’m sure that’s not enough time to get all the way over here.
I dodge art students coming in and out of the school, wading through a mixture of darkness and neon colors. This is my first time visiting the art section of the school, and it’s amazing how different it is compared to the sporting world. Everyone is either dressed like they’re about to go swing dancing, or raving, or head bang at the metal concert. Their clothes are precisely chosen to exude their personalities, their creativity. Whereas, in my world, I choose clothes based on comfort and how easy it is to take off.
I have nowhere to begin in my search for Rachel. However, she is constantly talking about the art studio, so I make my way to a group of girls hovering outside a classroom. Their hair colors are a mixture of neon blue, pink, and purple and their clothes remind me of the Spice Girls if they ever decided to go grunge.
“Hey,” I say awkwardly, catching the eye of the girl with neon blue hair, whose dark eyes look me up and down as if to say I’m in the wrong place. “Where is the art studio?”
The pink haired girl next to her giggles while the one with purple hair rolls her eyes. Thankfully, the one in blue takes pity on me. “Follow me,” she says while striding past me and heading down the hallway.
She moves easily through the crowd, snaking through students discussing art theory and others working on last minute projects on the hallway floor. I bumble through, trying very hard not to bump into anyone with my large frame. I tiptoe around picture frames and people sleeping outside classes, turning down an empty hallway where the girl awaits me at the end of the hall. She gestures towards the classroom next to her, with a sign readingArt Studioin all black hung next to the door.
The moment I push the door open, I see Rachel in the back, her face pinched in concentration while staring at her sketchbook. Her fingers are blackened, and there’s even pencil markings on her cheek and chin. She looks absolutely beautiful and I don’t know if I should bother her now when she’s trying to focus.
I take a step back, deciding now is not the time to vomit up all my feelings, however, I step on something, hear a loud, “What the fuck?” Whirling around, I see a very short girl with cropped blonde hair and large glasses scowling up at me while clutching her books closer to her body. “Do you mind?” She asks angrily, her gaze flicking to the foot I’m currently stepping on and the horror on my face.
“Oh, my bad,” I say while taking several steps away from her, feeling like an absolute idiot for not realizing someone was standing behind me. I bump into a table behind me, earning a very loud squeak as the table legs slide on the floor. Just shoot me now, I think while my gaze lifts to the flickering lights above me.
My attention shifts when I hear a soft giggle floating my way, finding Rachel smiling at me, her hand covering her mouth. She waves me over, and like a loyal dog, I come instantly.
“What are you doing here?” she asks while I plop myself next to her. She wraps her arms around my neck and nuzzles her nose against my cheek. Her warmth pushes away all the despair I feel, leaving me loved and cared for.
“I haven’t been doing well,” I whisper while brushing her hair away from her face.
She pulls away from me, frowning while looking me up and down. I don’t know what she sees on my face, but I wonder if she’s a mind reader, because the next thing she does is take my hand and drag me towards the door.
“Let’s go talk somewhere with less people,” she says while taking me back out into the hallway, leaving all her things on the table except her purse. I follow her into the room next door, which is completely empty and devoid of any light.
“This is the darkroom,” she explains while turning on a small lamp on the desk near us before going to the door and locking it. It provides little light, but it’s better than nothing. Pictures hang from lines on either side. She leans against a desk, her arms crossing while she gives me a concerned look. “What happened?”
I grimace, not in the mood to talk about Millie for the second time today. It’s ironic I had just been talking about her with my therapist and I feel like I didn’t get quite a definitive approach to dealing with her. Changing my schedule won’t be enough. I will probably have to pursue legal action. If only I knew what she wanted from me.
“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Rachel asks, her eyes widening. “Did something happen?”
I run a hand through my hair. If I don’t tell her, she’ll only keep asking and continue getting more worried. “Millie was standing outside the gym today, practically waking for me to come.”
“What?” Rachel breathes, her hand pressing against her chest. “Really?”
I bob my head. “Yeah, I saw her looking through the windows.”
“What?” Rachel says, much louder this time, horror on her face. “Why? What does she want?”
I shrug. “If you find out, please tell me.” I groan and rub my eyes with the heel of my palms. “I don’t know how much more I can put up with this. Tony gave me a warning last time I had to deal with her and Amy keeps changing my schedule.”
“But Millie keeps finding out when you work,” Rachel says while stroking her chin. “This is borderline stalking.”
“Tell me about it. Rachel, I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I say, my voice quivering as I release all the fear and pain I’ve been suppressing. “I love this job, but Tony has already given me a warning after she lied and made it seem like I was being aggressive towards her. I don’t know what I’m going to do if I lose this job.”
“It won’t be the end of the world,” Rachel says while placing a hand on my shoulder. She strokes my arm, but it does nothing to ease my worry.
“It feels like it is. And all I can think about is getting a drink to drown out my worries.”
Rachel’s eyes widen and I can see the question in her eyes.
“I haven’t,” I say harshly, hating that look despite knowing I have earned it. It wasn’t that long ago I completely fell off the wagon. It will take years for that look to disappear, maybe even a lifetime.
