Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth Housman
Where is he? My God, this waiting is excruciating.
Draping my green uniform blazer over the back of the chair in the library, I scan the room again. Maybe I missed him, even though that feels impossible. My entire being senses him whenever he’s near.
I rest my elbows on the table, my eyes drawn to the beautiful bracelet Aaron gifted me. The figure-eight chain, the emerald, both unique and exquisite. But it made me uneasy because we’re friends… that’s even a stretch. Eric hasn’t seen it yet.
I’m unclasping it when my roommate and best friend, Amy Abbott, drops a stack of books on the table next to mine. “What’s that?” She grabs my hand to look at the bracelet. “Ugh, it’s so unfair. You get the best gifts. My boyfriend never gives me anything, unless you count anxiety… and a cold sore.”
Shaking my head at her, I tell her it was Aaron. Broody, mysterious, handsome Aaron, who gifted the bracelet to me for my birthday. My… friend?
“As if. Um, Biz, are you telling me that Aaron… Aaron Rothschild gave you that? He hates you, doesn't he?” She picks up the bracelet from where I laid it on my open textbook, looking at it intently. “Did he hit his head?”
From his first smirk, under-the-breath comment, and eye roll, I was on edge around him. But I’ve always been hyperaware of the guy. We share three classes, we both get coffee from the café early on Saturdays, and Eric cares about us both.
Aaron is Eric’s roommate and best friend.
Complicated emotions skitter through my chest. This growing attraction to him is dangerous. I’ll lose Eric if I don’t stop it.
I still grapple with the unexpected gift. He waited until I left their apartment to chase me down and hand it to me, a whisper of “Happy Birthday” before he turned to jog back. My face heats as I think about his mischievous glance as he left me standing there, staring at the gold gift box.
“...told him to just give up. But Hen likes to clobber dead horses.”
“Huh? It’s ‘beat a dead horse’. What are you talking about?”
Besides Amy, Henry is my closest friend. Lately, he’s been distracted. She tells me he’s convinced the government is on the verge of finding a way to track us all. Did I mention he’s a nut?
“Mmm… can you imagine that?”
I watch Amy examine the bracelet. “I bet this is real. Like expensive and real.”
On pure instinct, I feel his presence. Eric saunters into the library with his backpack over one shoulder, and his dimpled smile spreads across his face as he spots us. That’s all it takes for my pulse to pick up.
“Put that away,” I say quietly to Amy, pushing her hand down.
“Huh? Here.” She tries to hand it back.
“Just… just keep it for me. Please.” Amy’s eyes widen when she realizes that Eric is unaware of the bracelet.
“I’m asking you a million questions later,” she says sternly before kissing my forehead and nodding toward Eric as they pass. She turns to mouth behind his back, “So. Many. Questions.”
I don’t doubt it.
But what am I going to say when it defies explanation?
“Sorry I’m late. If I’m going to make the Olympic swim team, I need to shave some time off my backstroke.” He pulls his chair close, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
Watching him swim has become one of my favorite things to do, along with drawing him. He’s a work of art. From his piercing blue eyes and seductive smile, to his strong, sleek body, I’m at a loss for how to infuse my drawings with his very essence, a deep well of strength and integrity.
“I have no doubt you’ll get it done,” I wink at him, grabbing one of his hands to hold. “And just so you know… I’m not going to the Amherst party alone.”
Every first Saturday in May since the late 1800s, the Amherst family has thrown a party for the students at Rock Am on their estate, a sprawling, decadent mansion mere miles from the Rockefeller Amherst campus.
But it’s not just students in attendance.
It's not uncommon to hear of former alumni, people in positions of power, famous athletes, and entertainers making an appearance.
It’s not my scene.
In fact, I’d gladly miss it for some time alone with Eric, but this year, some of my paintings are being auctioned off to benefit the Children’s Hospital of New York.
He bites his lip, the smile dropping from his face. “If you want to go, then we’ll go.”
Something’s wrong. At first, I blamed my guilt over accepting a gift from Aaron and keeping it a secret, but now I’m not sure.
“Geez, that sounded… pained?”
Squeezing my hand, he leans back in his chair. “It’s no secret that I’m not fond of wearing a tux, but for you, I’ll do anything.”
I try to abandon my apprehension while we quietly do schoolwork side by side. I try, but my nagging thoughts just won’t ease up. It could be the Olympic trials for Seoul next fall. It could be finals in a couple of weeks. Maybe he’s picked up on Aaron’s shift in attitude toward me.
Whatever it is, I feel like we’ve been knocked off center.
Dusk on this spring evening gives a tranquil feeling on campus. With such a small student body, it’s easy to feel like the whole place belongs to us. I keep stealing glances at Eric as we walk to his car. I managed to keep my mouth shut while we studied. Now I’m weighing my words carefully.
He surprises me by detouring onto the stone path toward the Great Hall, pulling me along. “I want to show you something.”
At least his mood has improved.
We take a right inside the doors, past the chapel currently closed for renovations, three classrooms, and through the door to the side stairs.
In jest, I pull my hand away. “I’ve seen a horror movie with a scene like this.”
Even in the middle of the day, the darkened corridors of this building feel haunted.
Eric’s laugh echoes as he pulls the second-floor door open. The chapel has a balcony section accessible from this level. He tugs me through, putting a finger over his mouth to hush me.
Normally, this door is locked.
Eric grabs me to stop me from toppling over a carpet roll. My gasp bounces off the cavernous space.
He points to the floor below, where half the pews are being replaced. The altar is intact, the changing light of day casting strange shadows through the stained-glass windows behind it.
Then I see it.
Fascination pulls me closer to the edge of the balcony.
“Whoa, don’t lean on that, Biz.” He pulls me back slightly; his arm hooked around my waist. “That’s the painting, right?”
The Divinities. It’s breathtaking, even better in person than in a textbook. Tears fill my eyes. “How did you know it was here?”
“Aaron saw it delivered to the chapel earlier today. I knew you’d want to see it.” His voice softens as he pulls me back against his chest. “It’s… majestic-looking, I guess, but I love your paintings more.”
It’s sweet of him to say, but this painting… it’s not just a work of art. It’s history. It’s a call to something deeper. I did a paper in high school on The Divinities and the other two paintings in the collection. But of the three… I feel a mix of connection and hope when I see it.
I turn in Eric’s arms to hug him, but the expression on his face makes me hesitate. The tenderness pricks at my heart. “What?” I ask, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Do you need to tell me something?”
He shakes his head before leaning in to kiss my cheek. He shuffles back toward the door while holding me, pulling it closed tight. Then, he deftly picks me up to swing me around. My legs wrap around his waist.
We rarely get time alone anymore, with our roommates, his swimming, my painting, and school obligations. Any moment we’re able to touch… anytime we can make love, neither of us wastes it.
Breaking our kiss, he digs in his backpack for a condom, but I grab it eagerly. “I’ve got it.”
I quickly look around to make sure we’re hidden from view of anyone entering downstairs before we continue, then readjust myself as the shadows fully envelop us.
I take pleasure in the way he watches me undo his belt and unzip his pants. My hand reaches inside to free him. His head falls back with a groan.
As he lifts me, I pull my underwear to the side. With no preamble, we cling to each other, words half-said, a frenzy of movement.
Over his shoulder I can see the painting.
Instead of it deterring my behavior, the shame I would expect to come over me for doing this in a chapel, a burning, feral, gaping abyss of desire opens in my chest.
Eric looks momentarily shocked by my neediness before his movements become just as jerky, his sounds just as wild.
With one hand, he turns my face so our eyes meet. “Biz… Biz? Wha…” His release leaves him shuddering as he struggles to swallow his words. “God, I love you,” he says breathlessly as he finishes after several seconds.
In a shaky voice, I say, “Forever. I will love you forever.” A prayer, a promise, and an apology.
I’m never asking Amy for that bracelet back.