Amy
“There’s no fascia,” my professor criticized.
I looked down at the sketch on my desk and then at my professor, who was sitting in my chair.
“Do you see it?” he asked. “Or, rather, not see it?”
I nodded and he continued, “See, you need a fascia.” He turned to the next page of my sketchbook and drew a part of my roof. “The fascia is what closes off the roof rafters. Without a fascia, you have no way of attaching the gutters and, without gutters, you are going to have water going straight down.” He demonstrated with thick arrows. I watched carefully and he looked up at me. “Do you know where that water will go?”
I didn’t answer, waiting for him to answer his own question. He enjoyed that—he never really expected anyone else to know.
“Straight into your foundation. And trust me, sunshine, you do not want that to happen,” he sighed, writing “sunshine” in capital letters under his arrows and giving it a bold exclamation point. He got out of my chair and asked, “Making more sense?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“All right, I want to see those fascias.” He tapped my desk and moved onto the next person.
I continued to stare at my sketch, now looking completely wrong without the fascias. I flipped to a new page and began sketching again. I could hear clattering around me as others shared their ideas and thoughts.
“That looks like a barn, Mel.”
“It does not. And even if it did, so what? What is wrong with a barn?”
“It’s not a house, usually.”
“There are barn-shaped houses!” I looked up at Mel, who was protectively holding her sketchbook away from Tina. Tina rolled her eyes and tucked back a stray piece of her blond hair.
“Oh, give it a rest, Tina,” said Dan, who sat at the table next to me. I peeked over at Dan’s sketch, which was, of course, perfect. Fascias and all.
“Hey, do you want to grab some pizza with a bunch of us?” Dan asked me three hours later. The studio was practically empty now. Only he and I were left.
I shook my head. “No, thanks. I’m good here.”
He nodded, and I went back to sketching. He stood there for a moment. I could feel him watching me before heading out into the hallway.
I glanced up at the empty room and let out a deep breath. I set my pencil down and looked at my sketch again. It was better but not great. I looked around again and then plugged in my earphones. I put my iPod on shuffle and a slow piano followed by guitar filled my ears. I froze for a moment before changing the track, allowing the next one to drown out the previous. I turned to another blank page and began again, knowing that practice makes perfect. Over time, new pages cover up the past ones and those improved images would allow the old mistakes to be forgotten.
I left the studio around ten and headed out into the busy streets of Chicago. Even this late, the city was still alive, not giving me too much uneasiness as I boarded the L, to head one stop further downtown. Chicago was a lot different from Shelby and all that I was used to, but that was exactly what I loved about it. There were so many people, strangers with unfamiliar faces, all with stories of their own.
I got off the train at Lake Street and walked past several people waiting for the next train. Coming and going never stopped in this city. After watching people get on and off, walk quickly and talk to nobody, I wondered if they ever got tired of it or if they found it as exciting as I did. The residence hall I lived in was only half a mile from the Art Institute, or SAIC as everyone liked to call it, so I easily could have walked, but I liked taking the train at night.
When I reached the dorm one block later, Cassie opened the door before my hand reached the brass doorknob.
“You will not believe what just happened,” she said. I raised my eyebrows. It wasn’t the first time Cassie, my roommate, had bombarded me with such a statement about news involving people I didn’t know. Not that she bothered to stop and ask herself whether her roommate really cared about her drama. Nope, she just shared it with me anyway. She reminded me of Kelly in that sense, only Cassie seemed to have never-ending energy.
I walked past her into the room we shared. She continued, following me. “Okay, so Mark was dancing pretty heavily with Brittany, who, you know, is Dan’s longtime girlfriend from high school.”
We entered the bedroom and I pulled out a pair of sweatpants.
“Anyways,” she began again, with her back turned to me so I could change, “Apparently he saw her dancing with Mark. Although I wouldn’t call it dancing—it was more like animals mating. Dan didn’t say anything to Brittany until after the party was over.” She turned around, facing me. “Which, by the way, you should have gone to. Mel said she heard Dan tell Brittany to do whatever she wants and that they are over.”
“How exciting,” I said dryly. Cassie didn’t seem to notice.
“I know!” she practically squealed. “Now Dan is on the market and he is cute!” I walked past her, going into the kitchen.
“Wait,” she said, following me. “You haven’t heard the best part.” I opened the fridge and grabbed the yogurt and orange juice. I noticed Cassie had stopped talking and was looking at me expectantly.
“What?” I said, opening the freezer and grabbing the frozen strawberries.
“Mel said that Dan told her he already had decided he was going to end things with Brittany because someone else has caught his interest.”
“Huh,” I grunted, putting all the ingredients into the blender. I didn’t blend while I waited for Cassie to finish. Cassie was my only roommate, which I was glad for. It was less expensive to room with three other people, but I had made my case for wanting just one roommate, and my dad had agreed to it. I was glad he was the one paying for it instead of my mom, especially since she didn’t want me going here in the first place.
“She also said that Dan asked if you were coming to the party and wanted to know where you were.”
At this I looked up. My mind flashed back to his pizza invite and the way he had watched me sketch. Dan and his perfect fascias.
“Really?” I said, trying not to act too surprised.
“Yup. It was a bit of a hint.”
“I doubt it,” I said, looking down at the blender. “We have two classes together, and he’s barely ever talked to me.”
“Yeah, well,” Cassie said. “You never know. But that means you are coming to the next party.”
I pushed the ice-breaker button on the blender and drowned out Cassie’s voice. She stood there a moment longer watching me before going into the living room.
I watched my smoothie blend and turn pink. I waited until it was smooth before taking it out and pouring it into a cup. With my smoothie in hand, I sat at the counter on a stool and took a sip.
Three months, two weeks, and five days was how long it had been since I had last seen Seth. I wasn’t keeping track because I was completely miserable—I just liked knowing. I took another sip of my smoothie. It was missing mango and Kelly’s special touch. But for now, it would do.