Jake

 

As I dismissed my 2D Design class on Friday, I wondered what was wrong with me. A twenty-five-year-old college professor and owner of a graphic design company should be able to keep it together better than this. Yet here I was, desperate to figure out why Lauren hadn’t come in to do homework in my classroom yesterday. Instead I’d ended up with two girls I was completely uninterested in, who glared at each other for an hour until I could shake them both off.

I now knew the blue-haired girl’s name—McKenzie. Hopefully, if nothing else, she’d think I had a girlfriend. The only reason I’d been able to endure Natalie’s surprise “picnic” was the hope it would make McKenzie lose interest. But the whole time they were glaring at each other like two cats who wanted the same sardine, I thought of how different things had been with Lauren.

Watching her sink into her own world as she drew or painted was fascinating. She was fascinating. I found myself wanting to know everything about her, and making her smile had become a daily ambition. And for the most part, she seemed totally oblivious to the fact that I was growing more and more attracted to her. It irked me.

So of course, as I walked to my office after my last class, I was dwelling on what the chances were that she would come today—obsessing really. Then I froze as I passed Rossi’s office and heard her voice through the open door.

“I promise I can handle it.”

“I don’t know. It’s going to be hard, physical work sometimes.”

“Believe me, I’m tougher than I look.”

Curiosity turned me around. I leaned inside with my hands propped on either side of the doorframe. The movement caught Lauren’s attention and her eyes shifted to me, widening slightly before dropping to the floor momentarily.

“Oh, hi,” she said, finally looking at me again.

“Hey. What’s going on?” I asked.

“This young lady is applying for the studio assistant position we posted.”

I looked at her sharply and caught the blush that briefly flooded her face, lending a note of vulnerability to the stubborn set of her mouth.

Mr. Chavez was there too, seated in a cluttered corner of the office. He nodded at me and said, “We are only concerned because of the physical requirements of the job.”

My thoughts raced as I stepped further inside and crossed my arms over my chest. They had discussed the position with me before. The school janitors were throwing a fit about how hard it was to clean the building. We needed someone to do all the grunt work of moving model platforms, setting up lights, scraping paint, and more. But that wasn’t the only reason I hesitated to give an opinion. The job would put her in the art building so much more. Could I handle it?

“I have to agree. I’m not sure it’s a good idea either.”

Lauren shot an angry look at me and turned her back to me. Facing the other two men, she said, “Please give me a chance. I promise I can do it.”

“We’ll keep you in mind, but we’re going to wait to interview other applicants before we decide.” Rossi dropped his pen on his desk. “We’ll let you know early next week.”

Lauren nodded, but her voice sounded tight as she said, “Thank you.”

I stepped back to let her pass by me, feeling a tightness in my chest when she didn’t so much as look at me. Shutting Rossi’s office door, I called after her. “Lauren.” When she kept walking, I raised my voice and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She stopped, but didn’t turn around. A few seconds later, she turned, but still didn’t make eye contact. I walked ahead and opened the door of my office, knowing this wasn’t going to be fun.

She walked in and took her backpack off and sat in a chair, her posture stiff.

“Why do you want this job so bad?” I asked.

“I need the money.”

“There have to be dozens of other places to get a job.”

“But if I work right here in the art building, I’ll be able to spend more time in the studio.”

“I’m sorry, but it just wouldn’t work out.”

Her eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t know that.”

“I can guess. I know what it entails, and frankly…”

“You don’t think I’m strong enough. But I am. Why are you always messing things up for me?”

I looked at her, trying to decide how to answer, and got lost in her cinnamon-sugar eyes. Shaking it off, I said, “I’m just thinking of you. You’d hate it.”

Standing, she squared up to me. The top of her head just reaching my collar bone, but she still managed to look fierce with her lips clamped tightly together and her eyes boring into mine. “That’s not your decision to make.”

I shrugged. “It is, actually. Partly anyway. Rossi, Chavez, and I have to agree.”

“I’ll arm wrestle you for it.”

Surprised, my eyebrows shot up and I sputtered, “What? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. Come on.”

“Lauren, there’s no way you can beat me.”

“Maybe not, but it’s not like I’m going to get the job anyway. At least if I can beat you, you can’t say I’m not strong enough for it.”

I chuckled and gave in, following her over to my desk where we sat on opposite sides. She planted her elbow and opened her hand, waiting for me to take my position. I did so, and her fingers slid into mine. I felt her smooth skin and small calluses as her palm pressed to mine. The contact sent a fire down my arm like sparks falling from a sparkler. It jolted me to my core, and it was nearly my undoing. In the instant I gripped her hand, she torqued her arm, nearly slamming mine all the way down. Exerting all my strength, I barely managed to stop the downward momentum. A scant inch from the desk, and with all the leverage to her advantage, I fought back.

And so, I discovered that Lauren was freakishly strong for a girl. I pushed back, centimeter by centimeter until finally I got a good angle and could gain the advantage. It was over quickly then, but as we sat across from each other, both of us breathing hard and Lauren rubbing her shoulder, there was no doubt she’d won my respect if nothing else.

“You’re sneaky, but I have to give you props anyway,” I said, reluctantly releasing her hand.

She stood and picked up her backpack. “I’d rather have the job.” And then she left.

All the energy seemed to have been sucked out of the room. I leaned back in my chair and smiled up at the ceiling. What a strange way to hold hands for the first time.