I cleared my throat, cramming all my emotions way deep down. Enough already. “Yeah, I’m alright.”
“Safe?” he asked again.
“Safe.” I confirmed with a roll of my eyes.
“Good.” He murmured and then, “Hey listen, I’m at work right now, but you know you can call me anytime, day or night, right?”
“I promise I won’t bug you again.” I tipped a pile of rocks out of the palm of my hand.
“Sarafina, sweetheart.” He huffed a laugh. “I really hope you do.” There was a gap of empty space before we said goodbye, and when the phone went dead, I forced myself to uncoil and brush myself off.
I patted my cheeks dry with the back of a sleeve and headed towards my professor. “How’d it go?” She asked, looking up from her phone. “Did you get the address?”The address.Shit. I’d completely forgotten.
Carter picked up on the first ring this time, sounding frantic. “Sara?”
I cleared my throat. “I’m so sorry to bug you again—I need your address.”
“You’re mailing my piece.” He exhaled, pure delight in his voice. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Thanks, Carter.”
“Anytime, pretty girl. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”
“Okay.” I shook my head, embarrassed at myself.
“Gotta go. Bye.” He hung up the phone quickly, but I got a text from him with an address a mere minute later.
I nodded to my professor, and we went inside and did the impossible thing.
We mailed it.
Professor Alden patted my back as we stood outside the post office soaking in the sun, basking in its warmth for a moment. “You realize this makes you a professional.”
I scoffed. “It doesn’t count if a friend bought it.”
“Was money exchanged?” She asked.
“A wad of hundred-dollar bills.” I rolled my eyes and muttered, “And an obscene amount of money for shipping, that I have to send back.” I added, “Again.”
“Well, if the amount you keep is enough to profit, that means you’re liable for taxes, Sara.” She smiled knowingly. “Do you know what that means?”
“I need to hire an accountant?” I asked, puzzled.
She chuckled. “That meansyou’re in business.Family friend or not.” She shrugged. “Besides, that’s what being an artist is. Selling art to your friends. Because in this industry, it’s all aboutnetworking. Everybody is a friend of a friend, and everybody want’s to buy their friends’ art because they want to brag about how well they know the artist.” I chewed my lip. I hadn’t thought of it like that.
I supposed there was no going back now. She was right. The ball was rolling whether I liked it or not.
“Now, you just need to use that bucket of paint.” She reminded me. “Or don’t.” She looked me up and down. “You might put some muscle back on, which it looks like you could use.”
I realized maybe I wasn’t fooling everyone as well as I thought I’d been. “Is that what this assignment is?” I asked as we got back into the truck to drive back to campus. “A workout regimen?”
“Is that what you think it is?” She looked at me as she turned on the ignition.
“Honestly? I have no idea. A punishment for falling behind?” I winced, trying again.
She looked me square in the eye. “No, Sara, it’s just a physicalmanifestation of the process. We all carry emotional baggage around with us all the time. Some things are heavier than others, and unless we go through the process of letting go, we have to keep carrying our shit around with us. Whether we like it or not. And right now you’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.” She eased out of the parking space. “The more we let go, the lighter we feel. It’s going to be painful as hell, but your mother would want you to keep moving forward. Even if it’s just a tiny bit every day.” She smiled sadly, keeping her eyes on the road. “Don’t get stuck. It’s harder than you think to get unstuck.” And then she added more sternly. “And don’t you dare send that money for the painting back.”
“Why?”
