Jake

 

Thrilled that the first week of classes was finally over, I walked into my classroom late Friday afternoon, planning to get some design work done before I went to Grams’ house to do some lawn work for her. I halted in the doorway, however, when I saw Lauren. She was seated at one of the work tables, her head bent over her sketchbook.

“I thought everyone had gone home.”

Raising her head sharply, she saw me and took out her earbuds. “Is it okay if I’m in here?”

“Sure. I was just surprised. Usually no one hangs around on a Friday.”

“Mr. Rossi assigned a ton of work in our sketchbooks and I’m afraid if I don’t do it now, I won’t get it done. Nick wants to go to a movie later.”

At the mention of Nick, a shade of annoyance marred my good mood, but I didn’t let it show in my voice. “What about the rest of the weekend?”

She sighed and untied the bandana around her head. As she smoothed it out and retied it, she said, “I’ve only lived here a week, but I know what it will be like. Fifty different people dropping by, an impromptu party, or Beth coming into my room to talk. I’ll never get anything done.”

Chuckling, I set my laptop down on the table in front of her, sitting so I faced her. “Tell Beth to leave you alone.”

“No way. She’s so nice.”

“She’s a nosy chatterbox,” I said.

She grinned at me. “That too.”

“Well, I don’t care if you stay, but I hope you don’t mind if I work for a while too.”

She picked up her graphite pencil again, but asked, “What? Don’t you have a hot date tonight?”

“Uh, no.”

“Why not?”

“Because I have plans with my grandma,” I said, grinning at her.

She laughed. “Awww. Aren’t you sweet?”

Wiggling my eyebrows, I just smiled and got to work. Lauren popped her earbuds back in and we both worked for an hour without talking. But the whole time I worked, I was hyper-aware of her. Every time she shifted, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, or turned a page in her sketchbook, it drew my attention.

Finished with my work, but not wanting to leave, I got up and walked over to her. “Can I see?”

Her eyes widened and she shook her head.

“Come on. What good is being an artist if you don’t show it to people?”

“I’m not an artist yet,” she said, her voice deep with self-derision. But, to my surprise, she pushed her sketchbook toward me.

Flipping through the pages, I realized her homework was to copy drawings from the book of human figure drawings on the table in front of her. She’d been drawing torsos, both front and back. They weren’t perfect, looking flat instead of round with three dimensions. But her proportions were good, and there was a free-flowing quality to the lines.

“Well?” she asked.

“They’re good. You should focus on increasing the contrast on these and they’ll be better.”

She tipped her head sideways, considering them with me. “Okay. Thanks.”

Even though her words were perfectly polite, there was a note of tension in her voice. I closed the sketchbook and turned to face her. She was only a few inches away, but she didn’t step back.

“Taking critique is hard, huh?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“Tell you what—return the favor. I just finished a logo for a client—a gourmet ice cream company in Wisconsin. Come tell me what you think.”

She followed me over to my computer and I pulled the design up in full screen. She looked it over with sharp concentration. Just when I started to get nervous, she said, “As much as I’d love to find something you can improve, I can’t. This is awesome. I love the mint green and chocolate color scheme.”

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a surge of warmth at her praise.

Still looking at it, she said, “Actually, what would it look like if the letters were spaced further apart?”

After a few seconds of considering this, I sat down, deciding to try it. As I worked, she put her hand on the table and leaned over my shoulder to watch. Her clean, lightly floral scent washed over me, and I could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. I had to wrench my attention away from how close she was and back to the work at hand.

I made a few adjustments and asked, “How about that?”

“See? Isn’t that better?”

“Yes.” Thrilled with the improvement, I turned toward her, and my arm brushed hers. She straightened quickly and pulled her arm away. “Sorry,” I said, quietly.

“No, don’t worry about it. It didn’t bother me. I was just surprised.” Then she laughed. “Which is stupid after the way you were manhandling me in the pool that one day.”

“I wasn’t manhandling you. I was just trying to get an answer to my question.”

“By drowning me?”

“By not letting you get away.” The words hung oddly in the air between us.

“Do you still want to know?” she asked softly.

“Know what?”

“What Natalie told me about you.”

“Not particularly.” My voice came out cooler than I intended.

Her brows drew together, but she didn’t push the matter. Instead, she sighed and said, “I’d better get going.”

While she walked over and put her books in her backpack, I put my computer in its case. We walked out the front door together, into the hot afternoon. Moving from the air conditioning into a sauna was always a shock.

Lauren groaned. “When you look out of the windows, it looks so nice and cool under these big shade trees. Then you go outside and it’s not.”

I wasn’t sure, but I suspected Lauren was talking to cover the awkward end of our conversation. I was surprised that she kept walking next to me even when she could have easily gone ahead or fallen behind. Did it feel as natural to her as it did to me?

When we got to the edge of the parking lot, she stopped and said, “I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you parked?”

“Oh, I walked today.”

“Still haven’t found your keys?”

She laughed. “No, I found them. Would you believe they were in the ignition?”

“It’s a good thing no one stole your car.”

“That piece of junk? They’d bring it back if they did.”

I chuckled and asked, “So why are you walking then?”

“I needed some exercise. I’m not used to all this sitting around.”

Nodding toward my truck, I said, “I can give you a ride again.”

Lauren looked down and kicked at a dandelion that hung over the edge of the pavement. “Thanks, but I won’t bother you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

“Aren’t you on your way to see your grandma? Besides…” she paused, her eyes flashing to my face, “Someone might see and get the wrong impression.”

“Ah,” I said. “Would that be such a big deal?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I think it would be. Natalie is probably home. She might read something into it.”

“Ah.”

We looked at each other for a few seconds before she took a deep breath and said, “Okay. I’ll see you around.”

“Bye,” I called after her, forcing myself to head for my truck.