Jake

 

As my students worked, I sat at one of the high tables, staring at my phone. More precisely, I stared at the last text I’d gotten from Lauren yesterday. She’d called me as promised, and told me a little more of what happened between her and Nick. I wasn’t surprised she wasn’t telling me everything, and that was fine. I just wanted to know she was okay, which was why I kept checking in with her. If only the few black words on my screen could reassure me.

As soon as I dismissed my 2D design class, I walked into the drawing studio. Mr. Rossi had the room in near darkness with the only light coming from the skylight overhead and a spotlight trained on the two models on the stand. I walked around the back of the room slowly so I wouldn’t distract anyone. Finally, on the far side of the room, I found Lauren.

She was so completely focused, I knew there was no danger of her noticing if I watched her work for a while. As an artist, she fascinated me. In my own work, I was comfortable with measurements and precise lines, but Lauren thrived on fluid, wild strokes that somehow landed precisely where they should. It gave her work a sense of life and urgency that mine lacked.

Glancing from her paper to the models, I saw for the first time how intimate their pose looked from the angle Lauren was drawing them. With the charcoal, she deepened the shadows between their bodies, the contrast sharpening the highlights she created with her kneaded eraser where the light illuminated their skin. She used the play of light and dark to round their arms, legs, and torsos. Her skilled fingers fleshed out the girl’s curves and the taut, square lines of the guy’s muscles. The tilt of his head, the lift of her chin and the curve of his fingers indenting the skin of her bare waist became more than just depictions of human anatomy. She was drawing them as lovers, whether she realized it or not.

And heaven help me, but as a man in love with this artist, the sensuality of her drawing undid me. Thoughts came unbidden of my deepest, most heartfelt desires. My heart pounded and my breath quickened. Before my thoughts could become as clear as the picture in front of me, I closed my eyes and turned around. After taking a moment to put up some mental walls, I retreated to the far side of the room.

The overhead light flashed on and Mr. Rossi dropped into his chair. His voice flared with energy and impatience. “Time’s up. Get ‘em on the wall.”

The room filled with groans and tearing paper. Lauren joined the mob of students tacking their work up on the wall. From the way she bounced as she moved back to study them, she was extremely pleased with herself. I nearly chuckled, but fought it off to keep from drawing attention to myself.

“Critique,” Mr. Rossi said.

“The fourth one is the best.”

“It’s really good.” someone else agreed.

“Like, whoa, good.”

Mr. Rossi stood up and walked over to the fourth drawing, which was Lauren’s. “I agree. Lauren, as soon as I saw you put this up, I knew it was the best. It only took a moment’s glance to see it. The proportions are right, your use of chiaroscuro is superb, and the whole drawing is in the same state of completion. But tell me why it works.”

She tipped her head to the right and considered her drawing. “It works because I got the gesture right. You can feel the movement and weight of their bodies.”

He slapped his hands together in a loud clap. “Yes. Everybody look at your drawing. If it looks stiff or detached, it’s because you didn’t get a good start. There’s a reason why we start this course with an intense study of gesture drawing. Don’t forget it’s as important now that we’re moving on to long studies. It’s got to be the foundation of everything you do.”

He took down Brody’s piece from last week and pinned Lauren’s in its place. “I’d be surprised if that comes down the rest of the semester.”

I grinned as the rest of the students began cleaning up, but Lauren stood still, staring at her picture. As I walked towards her, she took a picture of her drawing with her phone. My phone jingled in my pocket and I laughed as I pulled it out and saw she’d sent the picture to me.

She turned around, surprised, so I said, “Thanks, but I’ve already seen it.”

She grinned. “I sent it to my mom too. Did you hear what Mr. Rossi said?”

“Yes, and I agree with him. I’m impressed.”

She raised an eyebrow, glanced sideways at her drawing, then back to me. “Do you think it’s too...”

I laughed. “Sensual? Not for Rossi’s tastes.” A worried frown pulled at her lips so I tried to reassure her. “Relax. There’s nothing inappropriate there, just amazing art.”

With frantic energy like she didn’t know what to do with her hands, she pressed them to her cheeks, fisted them at her sides, then clasped them on top of her head. “It was so amazing. I just went into this trance and suddenly I was drawing emotion, not just people, you know?”

I glanced around, seeing that we were alone now, and pulled her hands down from her head. Bending down close to her ear, I asked, “What were you thinking about when you drew them, Lauren?”

She looked down as her face flushed red, and that was answer enough for me.

“Never mind,” I said. “It’s great to see you happy. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I know, but you don’t need to be. It’s finally over.”

“How is Natalie treating you?”

“She’s avoiding me like I have leprosy. But I’m not surprised, really. I did just break up with her brother. Talk about awkward.”

“Yeah,” I said, knowing it was more than that. I took Lauren’s hand, hoping to somehow communicate my feelings to her in this brief moment we had alone.

“What’s going on here?”

We both turned to see Rossi striding towards us.

“I warned you about this at the beginning of the semester, Cooper,” he said as he strode up to us and crossed his arms over his chest.

I clenched my jaw to keep from yelling at him.

Lauren pulled her hand away. “I’m late for Psych class.”

As she left, I felt terrible. From the look on her face, she was really embarrassed. Seconds later, I heard the main doors crash open. Slowly, I turned back to Rossi.

“Are we going to have a problem, here?” he asked.

I reminded myself that he wasn’t my boss, and squared up to him. “No. Especially since it seems she won’t go out with me.”

“Pressuring her to do so would be even worse.”

I waved my hand impatiently, brushing away his argument. “There’s so much more to this than what you saw by walking in on us just now. Trust me.”

“Look, I just don’t want to lose you. You’re a great asset to our program.”

Narrowing my eyes, I said, “I get that you have a problem with me pursuing Lauren because she’s a student, even though she isn’t my student. But I would never do anything inappropriate.”

“I certainly hope not, for both your sakes.”

I started to walk away, but turned back to ask, “What’s the policy on wives?”

“What?” he asked, clearly confused.

“If your wife wanted to take art classes, your art classes, would that be all right?”

“It would certainly be complicated, but there wouldn’t be any rules against it. In fact, faculty spouses don’t have to pay tuition. Why?”

“Just trying to figure a few things out,” I said as I walked away.