22. That’s Where I Draw the Line #2
A strange sort of quiet settled over me as I put the lid back on the bucket and picked it up. I don’t know why I was surprised when it was light in my hands, but I was.
So fucking light, like— a weight had been lifted.
I swung the bucket in a wide circle over my head and then threw my head back and laughed. Actually laughed. Sloane chuckled quietly, and then we looked at each other and broke into hysterical, maniacal laughter.
I placed a hand on my belly, gathering myself, and still, she didn’t say anything. She just waited. Let me have my moment.
“Let’s go turn in my assignment.” I panted, and Sloane walked with me, a quiet reassuring presence, while we crossed through the buildings with me covered head to toe in paint.
Isaac looked surprised from across the walkway, and I didn’t say a word to him, nor did I say a word to anyone else that stopped and stared.
Sloane opened the door for me as we stepped into Professor Alden’s office, and my professor looked up, a split second of surprise on her face, before she smiled wide and proud. “You did it.”
“I did it.” I breathed as she simply pointed to her trash can. “Throw it away?” I asked in disbelief, half wanting to keep the bucket for some strange reason I couldn’t quite explain .
“You don’t need it anymore.” She sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “It served its purpose.”
“What if I’m not ready to be done with it?” I gaped. I couldn’t just get rid of it, not after everything. It just felt wrong.
“Then I’d say it sounds like you have a new series in mind.” She went back to grading the papers on her desk. “Best get to it if you’re going to submit in time for the exhibition at Basecoat Gallery.” I stood there not knowing what to say, but Professor Alden didn’t look up once after that.
I walked back to my studio dumbfounded. Professor Alden was right. I think I did have an idea. The need to create, to translate everything I’d been feeling all these months onto a canvas, had exploded out of me, and now there was no putting the dark, twisted thing back in the box.
The next morning, Sloane and I cried and said our goodbyes, and then I went to work gathering supplies. As I stared at the gallons upon gallons of clear wax and stacks of multicolored embroidery thread, I knew full well that I was going to regret my bright idea by the time I was finished.
But I’d done it. I’d used the paint, and it had all started with a simple line. And a damn good friend.
The grief was still there, but Professor Alden was right about another thing. I felt the tiniest bit lighter.
But I still had one more thing to do.
Sloane had already shared Carter’s new contact card with me, and with trembling fingers, I opened up a new text thread and composed a message.
Hey, heard you got a new number
A mere minute passed before I got a response.
Carter
Hey sweet girl, where you been?!
Sloane and I figured out that I had a random setting turned on, blocking unknown numbers
Ahh that makes much sense
After the funeral, I was getting too many messages from random people
I forgot I had that setting turned on
Totally get that
People mean well, but it gets to be a lot
Glad I made the cut
I hesitated before admitting the next bit.
I thought after that phone call… that I had pushed you away.
I’m really sorry about that btw I didn’t mean to call you in the middle of a workday and dump all my problems on you
The phone rang immediately, and I reluctantly answered it.
“Sara,” Carter said, scolding and gentle all at once.
“Yes?” I bit back a wince.
“Please tell me you don’t really think that.”
“I don’t know.” I shrugged nervously. “I just—I know it was a lot. I was too emotional, and when I didn’t hear from you—I just thought maybe it was too much for you.” That I was too much for you.
“You’re never too much for me.”
I felt like I could burst into tears from the relief, but I shoved it down rather than repeat our last phone call as I cleared my throat. “So why’d you get a new number, anyway?”
He sighed. “That… is a long story. ”
“I have time.” I waited with bated breath, unsure how he would respond.
He hesitated for a long beat. “Someone actually stole my phone.”
“You’re going to have to give me more details than that, Mr. It’s a long story. ”
“Yeah, uh.” I could hear the hesitation in his voice. “My place was robbed.”
My pulse spiked. “Carter! What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yeah, no, I’m fine now. I’m just sorry about the timing.
” He chuckled, but I wished I could see his face.
The feeling that there was something between his words that he wasn’t saying made me anxious.
“I wanted to call you that night after work and see if you were okay.” He admitted with a long sigh. “But alas, no phone.”
“I’m just glad you’re okay.” I murmured. “What happened?”
“Oh, it’s not a big deal.” He said casually. “There have been some thefts at the apartments around the base.”
“That’s surprising.”
“Just some smash and grabs.” He assured me. “I accidentally left my phone in my car.”
“Oh, it was your car?” I asked, feeling slightly relieved. “I thought you meant your house.”
“Really, I’m fine.” He chuckled. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“Sloane came by this weekend.” I started slowly.
“I heard.” He admitted, and I groaned. “All good things.” He assured me. “You painted again.”
“Yeah,” I murmured, wondering what exactly she’d told him.
I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks.” I smiled into the phone, far too wide, feeling grateful he couldn’t see my expression now.
There was an awkward silence as I wandered into the bathroom and turned the phone on speaker. “Are you brushing your teeth?” Carter laughed.
“Yeah, I’m getting ready for bed.” I mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste .
“Getting ready for bed, huh?” His voice lowered, but I could hear the mischievous smile that was definitely on his face. “ What are you wearing? ”
“Carter!” I pulled my toothbrush out of my mouth, scolding him with a grin of my own.
His laughter was deep, warm, and comforting as it leaked through the phone. I could almost feel it wrapping around me like a warm embrace. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
I spit into the sink and threw my toothbrush into the drawer. “Shouldn’t you be doing the same?” I accused.
“I’m already in bed.” He teased. “You going to think of me tonight?”
“Maybe I will.” I teased back, feeling lighter than I had in months.
He was quiet for a moment, and my pulse spiked at the pregnant pause, waiting to see what he would say next. “Maybe I’ll think of you too.” He said, his voice low, gravelly.
“Yeah?” I breathed as a tendril of desire wandered over my skin like a caress.
“Yeah,” he admitted, and then I could sense the playful jab coming before he even said it.
“I’m going to think about how you looked on your birthday, after you got your protein shakes.
” I groaned at the memory. “And wonder why you’re so damn cute, even when you’re more pissed off than a rabid badger. ”
“Hey!” I said with mock offense, even though I was now grinning from ear to ear. “You admitted it yourself. Those shakes were disgusting.”
“Speaking of, have you been drinking your very nutritious, very delicious shakes?”
“Yes,” I answered before even realizing it was a lie.
“Sarafina, you pretty girl, are you telling me the truth?” He asked flirtatiously, but I realized he knew I was lying.
Whoopsie! “Who wants to know?”
“Someone who cares about you very much.” He was teasing, but it was still nice to hear .
I snuggled into the sheets, and suddenly it was hours later, and I’d been asleep. The call was still connected and quiet on Carter’s end, so I left it running and drifted off into a peaceful sleep for the first time in months.