11. Chapter 11
My mood bounced around like a ping-pong ball. It was annoying, and Shay and Jordan’s not-at-all-subtle attempts at matchmaking did not help.
I had survived the stupid dinner party, but that wasn’t enough. The pair were currently exulting Russ’s praises in the group chat. I gritted my teeth as my phone buzzed on my desk. I prepared my fingers to fire off a string of swear words, only to smile at the name on my screen.
Summoner OMG: May I ask what’s on this week’s agenda?
I hadn’t given this week’s “therapy” much thought. I fired off the first idea that popped into my head.
Poppy: thinking we could go to the Met could u get us tickets?
Summoner OMG: Sure. Why wouldn’t I be able to?
Poppy: worried ur too old to understand how online ticket sales work…
Summoner OMG: I’m going to say no comment on that. I’ll add this to your tab.
Poppy: Dude ur a millionaire I make like 40k a year
Summoner OMG: Fair enough. I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow at 4:30 if that’s okay?
Poppy: Great! C u then!
***
Exactly at 4:32 the next afternoon, I stepped out of the Popbyte office and into a black SUV on the curb. Summoner sat in the back seat. He leaned against his door and grinned at me from behind his horn-rimmed glasses.
I’ll never get used to those damn eyes.
Lower half clenched, I climbed into the car and pulled on my seatbelt. When I looked up, Moore gave me a quick wave over his shoulder before pulling into traffic.
“… So, is the Met still, okay?” I asked.
“It’s fine with me.”
“Were you able to get us tickets?”
“Age notwithstanding, I might have been able to purchase tickets.” He smirked.
I was worried about us having enough time to look at things.
But we were at the mercy of New York traffic.
Unlike last week, I actually did some research and learned that little bursts were best when beginning exposure therapy.
I liked having an insight into how Summoner’s brain worked.
I liked putting in the work to understand him.
“Hope we make it in time,” I sighed.
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Summoner said as he turned his head to look out his window.
My brow furrowed as Moore pulled down a side street and past the main entrance to the Met Museum. I leaned between the front seats and smiled carefully at Moore.
“Not to be a literal backseat driver, but you missed the turn for the entrance,” I pointed out.
“Sit back, Poppy. He knows where he’s going,” Summoner scolded.
I slumped back in my seat. Confused, I watched out the window as Moore drove us up onto a museum loading dock.
“Come on, Poppy,” Summoner said as he exited the car.
More confused, I stumbled behind Summoner, following him inside. Before I could ask questions, a voice shrieked in excitement.
“I cannot fucking believe it’s actually you!”
A blur of purple rushed past me and attached itself to Summoner. Wrapped in a bear hug, he laughed.
“Vinny, thank you for this. I really appreciate it,” he mumbled.
The purple blur was a man, a tall man with a gray shock of hair molded into a bowl cut.
“Anything for you, you asshole.” Vinny stepped back and held Summoner at arm’s length. “You must forgive me, but you’re looking quite good. Let me guess, this is Kay’s doing?”
Kay? Why would he assume his ex is still in his life?
Summoner shook his head. “Nah, just working on something with a friend. This is Poppy.”
Vinny’s eyes widened as he sidestepped Summoner to focus on me. I waved.
“Oh! I’m so sorry for being rude! I’m Vinny Rhoads, a curator here at the Met.”
We shook hands. “Nice to meet you, Vinny.” I smiled.
“Nice to meet you, Poppy. Your name is just lovely. Just everything about you is as cute as a button.”
I had no idea what Vinny saw beside a girl in dirty boots and an oversized coat. “Thanks.”
Vinny clapped his hands. I cringed inside, instantly wondering how I looked in my excitement.
“Here I am, holding everything up. Sorry about that. Follow me!” Vinny turned on his purple heels.
I glanced back at the car where Moore reclined in the driver’s seat, reading a book. Eyebrows raised at the utter weirdness of everything, I fell into step beside Summoner.
“What’s going on?” I whispered.
Smirking, Summoner kept his eyes ahead and offered no answers while Vinny led us through the clean basement of the Met. Several turns down long corridors made me think we were in an episode of Doctor Who. Fortunately, we hadn’t fallen through a hole in space and time.
We eventually stopped at an elevator. Vinny retrieved a key from around his neck and pushed it into the wall panel. The elevator opened with a ding. I rubbed my eyes as they adjusted from the dim basement lighting.
“I hope you enjoy the left wing on the second floor. I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to get anything better. You know I tried, right?” He pouted dramatically.
Summoner laughed. “I sprung this on you last minute. You’ve always taken care of me, Vin. God knows I’ve given you enough money over the years.”
Vinny squeezed Summoner’s shoulder. “You only give because you love me.”
“Of course.”
What is happening?!
The elevator dinged, and we stepped into an abnormally quiet museum.
“Oh! I’ll take your coats and come find you two in an hour.” Vinny held out his hands.
Summoner and I shrugged out of our coats and handed them over.
“Thanks again,” Summoner said, smiling.
Vinny dismissed him with a flick of the wrist. His heels clacked on the floor tiles as he left us on our own. When I couldn’t hear Vinny’s shoes any longer, I turned to Summoner and exclaimed, “What the hell is going on?!”
Summoner shoved his hands into his pockets.
“I’ve known Vinny since the 80s. An amazing guy.
Former artist who pivoted into the business side of it…
” He paused. His jawline clenched as he searched for words.
“…Ah, when you know the right people and toss enough money at them, things happen…I asked Vinny to close the museum down for a couple of hours before closing. He could only do a few wings on such short—”
He said he was open to trying this with me.
“What the actual fuck?!” I blurted out.
My rage was all-consuming, blinding me with its intensity. The muscles in my neck and jaw tightened. Fists clenched at my sides, I stormed off. I didn’t have a specific destination in mind, just anywhere that would take me away from him.
Eventually, I flopped onto a nearby bench and let out an exasperated sigh.
I hunched forward and grabbed the edge of the bench.
I felt a bit ridiculous. This outburst didn’t exactly fit the situation.
But everything inside me had been simmering just beneath the surface until it finally boiled over.
My overflowing emotions were the cherry on top of a shit sundae.
It was a recurring feeling that the people in my life always knew better than me. They humored me by going along with my “silly whims” while knowing they were right and I was wrong. I would never be anything more than crazy, emotional little Poppy.
I squeezed my eyes shut. Maybe they were right. I was stupid for thinking that, just maybe, Summoner was different. That he understood. I held onto this little piece of hope that I could be someone special to him.
Very stupid.
The sound of footsteps echoing off the polished floor tiles interrupted my thoughts, and I opened my eyes to see Summoner’s shadow looming over me.
“Is this seat taken?” he asked.
“It’s a free country,” I grumbled.
He chuckled, a hint of sadness in his voice. “Many would argue otherwise.”
“Touché.”
Summoner sat beside me. The surrounding air crackled with static, loud and disorienting like the black and white pixels in between channels.
“…Poppy,” he whispered.
His signal came through clearly. No need for adjustment. The melody of my name on his lips played in my head. My fingers gripped the bench edge tighter.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Why did you do this? I thought we agreed to work on the exposure therapy together.”
“We did.”
“Why cut me off at the kneecaps like this? I know it’s hard, but I hoped it would be easier together.”
I took a chance and peeked up. Summoner thoughtfully gazed into the distance.
“Please believe me when I say I never intended to hurt your feelings.”
“Then what were you trying to do?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “… I, I was being a jackass…but all is not lost.”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Kinda hard to do exposure therapy in an empty museum.”
“Empty wing of the museum,” he clarified with a mischievous glint in his eye.
My eyes narrowed, but any lingering anger melted away as Summoner’s words washed over me like a gentle breeze.
“I’ve got you, Poppy.”
I’ve got you, Poppy.
Fluttering butterfly wings tickled my chest, replacing any remaining traces of anger. Weightless, as if on the fluffiest cloud of desire (and cotton candy). It was easy for me to walk when Summoner stood up and motioned for me to follow. We quietly admired the brush work on Monet’s Water Lilies.
“So, what does the future look like for Poppy?” he asked.
“That’s a hell of a question,” I laughed.
“As you know, I’m very out of practice. Humor me.”
“If I’m ever able to pay my rent and pay off my student loans, I’d love to make money doing something creative. Maybe writing books or comics. Writing is my dream.” I shrugged.
Summoner nodded along to my disjointed rambling.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “That question is totally unfair, by the way, because I can’t turn it back on you. You’ve already done everything.”
“Maybe. But there are things I still want to do. Getting back on stage is a goal of mine.”
My eyes widened and an ear-piercing screech left my mouth. My noise bounced off the walls in between the decades-old paintings.
“Good to know that people would be into that,” he laughed.