‘Not enough, apparently.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I query, genuinely curious.
‘No one wanted to put my art in their shows. I finally managed to get my paintings into the local markets, but I hardly sold anything.’
‘Don’t give up yet. This kind of thing takes time.’
She is silent as she gazes at me, looking tense. It seems I don’t know how to talk to her properly anymore. Our conversations feel stilted and awkward, as if I’m not saying the right thing. That’s never been a problem before.
‘So, you’re studying some sort of art major, I’m guessing?’
She nods. ‘Yeah. A Bachelor of Fine Arts.’ She swirls the liquid around her glass, eyes glued to it.
‘Are you excited to start classes?’ I ask her, just to saysomething.
‘Yeah,’ she replies, leaning forward and resting her arm over her knee. ‘I can’t wait for a fresh start.’
‘Me too.’
She stills, narrowing her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’
The corner of my mouth twitches and I lean forward, mirroring her position, placing our faces close to each other as I rest my arms onto my knees. She glances down at them. She once told me how much she loves tattoos, and since then I have been inking myself more and more. ‘I enrolled at Stratton too.’
She blinks. ‘You did?’
‘I did.’
‘Are you studying Exercise Science?’
My heart skips a beat at her casual question. She already knows what I want to study, despite us not talking for so long.
She remembers.
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘I am.’
‘That’s good,’ she says softly. ‘You always wanted to do that.’
My heart is beating fast and I drag my eyes away from her, needing a moment to catch my breath and calm down. She makes me feel all over the place.
‘And since you travelled ...’ she trails off, the crease in her forehead deepening as she puts two and two together. ‘This will be your first year.’
‘You’re good at this.’ I nod encouragingly, leaning even further forward and giving her a sarcastic grin.
Rolling her eyes, she takes a long sip of her drink. ‘Therefore, we might be in some of the intro classes together.’
‘Potentially, yes.’
‘Great.’ She forces a smile onto her face, as if the thought of sharing classes with me is the worst news she’s heard all day. Maybe it is.
‘Excellent.’
‘Superb,’ she counters.
‘Swell.’
She snorts a laugh, which makes me laugh too. She has always done that.
‘Since we’re now roommatesandclassmates, we can carpool and study together,’ I suggest with a flirty wink.
