Eight
The firepit crackled and spit behind her, Celia’s shadow falling across the food table. Andrew, Trevor, and Kelsey chatted in their chairs, still eating. Andrew had refused to let her cook for her own birthday, bringing tamales from a place he knew. Kelsey brought cake. Trevor brought beer. Cooking was usually all she contributed. What was there to do now?
She fussed with napkins in the dark, then looked across the glowing pool to the pool house. Light shone dimly behind the lowered shades, but no shadows moved inside.
In her cardigan pocket, her phone dinged. The group chat. She pulled it out to read a text from Andrew telling León to come out. Okay.
“Celia, come sit down,” Kelsey called from behind her.
León had locked himself down after their fight. He’d pulled the shades and left the towel hanging on the pool house door, which was perfectly fine with her. Let him sulk. Celia hoped he was very happy, working on his art without the strain of trying to teach her.
She turned and drifted back to her friends. Kelsey had insisted she take the best chair, looking over the fire at the city view. She couldn’t lean back into the shadows in this one. Pulling her sweater cuffs down over her hands, she sat, exposed.
“What kind of music do you want, Celia?” Trevor was selecting a playlist on his phone. She shrugged.
“Relax, girl,” Andrew said, reaching to hand her a beer and a wrapped tamale. She held them in her lap, hoping the smile she gave him looked more genuine than it felt.
“I’m okay,” she said. She was! It was just harder to cram everything down lately. Dumb painter and his dumb lessons.
Kelsey slouched in her chair, curling her bare toes over the edge of the firepit brick, concentrating on balancing her ginger ale on her stomach. Trevor’s music started.
Celia almost missed the sound of the pool house door sliding open. Almost. Stock still, she looked covertly sideways to see.
León’s dark figure approached, briefly lit by the aqua pool lights as he passed it, then flaring into gilt as he came into the circle around the fire. He was in his smudged painting clothes, hair loose. His eyes raked Celia, then turned to Andrew.
“Hey,” he said. “I can’t stay.”
“Aw, come on, man,” Andrew complained. “I’ve barely seen you lately.”
“At least have some cake,” Kelsey said.
León’s brow knotted, and he turned to look at the food table. The decorated cake drew him closer. Then, bending to read the writing on it in the firelight, he snorted.
“Of course,” he said flatly, then stalked back to the pool house.
“Not real social, is he?” Trevor asked.
Andrew began peeling the label off his beer bottle, sprawling in his chair nearly as low as Kelsey. “He’s like this when he has trouble painting.”
Celia set the beer and food on the arm of her chair and pulled her sweater tighter around her. She had trouble painting too, but was still polite.
“Is he making anything good, Celia?” Kelsey asked.
“I haven’t been in to see.”
The sliding door on the pool house grated again, but she didn’t look, eyes staring through the fire.
Something touched her head, and she jumped, her hand flying up to feel something weightless and fluttery.
A…hat? A paper hat?
León stood over her as she took it off to see. He’d cut paper into a wild fringe and folded it around a disposable bowl.
“I couldn’t paint it,” he said. “It would have taken too long to dry.” He took it from her hands and set it back on her head. “I didn’t know it was your birthday. You never said.”
León aimed a scowl at Andrew, who grinned crookedly and spread his hands. “Read the group chat sometimes.”
León’s black eyes snapped back to Celia. So, he was still annoyed with her? Was it because she’d talked back in the gallery?
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.
She held the hat on her head to look up at him. His face, seen through the silly fringe, was hard-edged in the flickering firelight.
“Yes,” she glared. What did he care, anyway?
He raised fingers to the hat, pushing aside the fringe that hid her eyes. “That’s not true, is it?”
“Man…” Andrew started. Celia looked around hopefully, but he said no more.
“It’s a thing we’re doing,” León said, still poised above her. “Emotional honesty. Or else she’ll never paint.”
Andrew and Trevor exchanged frowning glances. Kelsey turned to sit sideways in her chair, watching. No one was going to rescue her here.
Celia swallowed and gave it a shot. “I’m embarrassed that everyone’s making a fuss.”
“Why?”
“I guess I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
“Let’s ask them.”
Trust León to make this happen out loud! Andrew swallowed some beer as León raised his eyebrows at him.
“You don’t have to do anything,” Andrew said. “We just want to celebrate. We like you.”
Trevor fell under León’s gaze next.
“You are doing something. You’re hosting us again. Only you didn’t get to cook this time.”
Kelsey didn’t wait for León. “We want to enjoy your birthday too. Let us.”
León’s head swiveled back to Celia.
“That’s one for no expectations, two ‘you already are doing somethings.’ How do you feel about that?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. He wasn’t going to let it go.
“Better,” she said, “but annoyed that you’re making everyone talk about it.”
He finally smiled. “Good girl.”
“And don’t patronize me.” She took off his stupid hat.
“I meant it,” León said. “That was some good truth. Anyway, you’re supposed to squirm on your birthday. That’s half the fun for everyone else.”
Oh. Thanks so much, everyone.
Kelsey laughed. “That’s true,” she said. “Here, presents will make you feel better.” She pulled a small package from her capacious purse, handing it across. “Happy birthday.”
The gift was a delicate necklace with a jeweled painter’s palette hanging from it. Celia threaded the loose clasp under her hair, then ducked her chin, trying to fasten the tiny ends. León leaned in to help, not asking. His fingers, when they brushed her neck, had rough traces of dried paint on them that tickled her skin.
She let him fasten the clasp. Telling him no was futile.
Finally, he crossed to the last open chair. So, he was joining them.
“Here,” Trevor said, handing around another package. It was flat, maybe a book. But no, it was a framed photo of Celia and Kelsey from a punk-themed shoot he’d done with them years ago. Celia had to smile at the fishnets, boots, and wild hair, their thinner faces harshly lit under an iron bridge.
“Finally, art to hang on your walls,” León commented.
She shot him a sour look across the fire. He was stiff-backed, thumb tapping on the sides his thigh.
Andrew took his time getting up to retrieve his bag, looking satisfied with himself, as usual. The heavy duffel clinked lightly when he set it down in front of his chair. Ceramics.
He began setting out forms wrapped in miles of paper on the edge of the firepit surround, four small ones and one about two feet tall.
“Okay,” he prefaced. “The big one is simply to show off. But, Celia, you can choose which of the smaller ones you want to keep.” He ceremoniously unwrapped the large one, then turned it to catch the firelight. Everyone leaned in as one.
It was his bronze and green sculpture, a nude torso. The glaze looked liquid in the firelight, slick and rich. It was a celebration of motion and delicacy, the curves unapologetic.
“Oh, Andrew,” Celia said, “it’s gorgeous.” She shook her head, heat on her cheeks. “I don’t look like that.”
“Yes, you do. I just found your best angles.” He began unwrapping one of the smaller packages. “These are the studies. You choose one. Happy birthday and thank you for posing.”
Gradually, smaller sisters of the large sculpture came out to sit near the fire. Celia picked up each to look them over, then handed them to Kelsey, who passed them around further. Fuss was made over Andrew’s workmanship. Trust him to give himself a gift at the same time.
Celia chose her statue, cradling it in her lap. León drew her eye again. He was turning one figure over in his hands, scowling. Still annoyed for no reason. He looked up, catching her watching him, and stood.
“I’ve got to get back to painting. I’m not ready for the exhibition.”
Kelsey and Andrew groaned.
“You work too much,” Kelsey complained. “Hang out, I brought a card game.” León shuddered, and she laughed. “More players, more fun.”
He shook his head, stepping over their feet to get around the firepit. “Andrew, come with me? I want to show you something.” He still had the ceramic figure in his hand and gave it to Andrew, who rose and followed him into the dark.
Celia finally lifted her beer to her lips. Fine. Let him go back to sulking so she could enjoy herself.
···
Once inside the pool house, León held his hand out for the figure again. Andrew handed it over, puzzled.
“I don’t really have anything to show you,” León said. “I just wanted to ask, can I keep this one for a while?”
“Why?”
Why?
He’d hoped that not seeing Celia for a few days would kill his thoughts about painting her. It hadn’t worked in the least. Her face had gleamed in the firelight like just-forged copper, her apprehensive huddle inside that oversized sweater telling a story he could capture in burnt sienna and cadmium reds and yellows.
Those uncertain hazel eyes of hers sparked something unkind in him, and he knew better than to mix inspiration with complication. But, maybe he could scratch his itch another way.
“I want to paint a few studies of the statue,” León said. “The shapes are really…honest.”
Andrew grinned. “Sure, man. You know, she’ll sit for you if you ask.”
León shook his head. “Just studies, that’s all. It’s your work. I want to try out some lines without, you know, bringing her in.”
Andrew looked at him thoughtfully. León tried to rein in his expressions, aiming at casual and noncommittal, but swallowed uneasily.
“Did you…improve on this?”
Andrew’s eyebrows shot up. “You asking if that’s really what she looks like naked?”
León exhaled hard. Of course, he would find this funny.
“You’re into her!” Andrew grinned.
“I am not!” León said. “Oh hell, call it curiosity. You dated her. I bet you could do her from memory anyway.”
“My memory’s not that good. It needs refreshing sometimes.”
León ignored that. “There’s nothing to paint up here,” he said. “I just want to know if I can keep this for a week or so.”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. So, you’re definitely not into her.”
“Hell no.”
Andrew shrugged. “Okay then. But are you actually going to start now? Why not sit out with us? You used to be more social.”
“No time.”
“If you say so. Beat that deadline, man,” Andrew teased with a grin on his way back out.
León set the nude on the bedside table, then sat on the cot to inspect it. Gently, he reached out and turned it slowly, watching the light from his one lamp bounce off of the glazed organic curves, highlighting different angles and shadows. It was a fine piece of work. For once, he wasn’t stuck searching for a subject to paint. He still needed a story, but he was closer.
···
The fire burned low.
Unable to get anyone interested in her card game, Kelsey gave up and began showing Celia some photos she’d taken. Andrew and Trevor started leaning toward each other, talking about their exhibition pieces. Celia considered getting out her ‘excitement’ painting to show she could do work too, but it wasn’t good enough. It sucked being the one talentless person in the group.
You’re just useless, Celia Rose.
Ugh, that foul voice in her head again? She hadn’t heard it for a while, not since she lied to Mom about going out of town. It had been a vacation, after all, from the calls.
Wait. Tranquila. It had helped her that day.
She imagined floating in the pool at night. She hadn’t floated for so long, not since León moved in. She missed it.
Dark, calm, tranquil. Celia took slow and easy breaths, feeling her heartbeat slow. It was working.
And next… ‘What are you feeling?’ Pride that I remembered this trick. ‘No, in your body?’
She smiled suddenly, realizing she was conversing with León in her imagination, and he was still pushing her.
She looked up to the pool house. He’d come out for such a brief time tonight.
“Hey, you’re ignoring me.”
Kelsey was never shy about saying what she thought. Well, why rely on León for pushing? Kelsey was here. She was her friend, and she was honest. Safer than León, to tell the truth.
Celia took a deep breath. “Kelsey…I feel happy that you’re here. Thanks for coming.”
Kelsey’s mouth fell open, then she reached out to touch Celia’s arm. “I’m happy to be here,” she said. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say something sappy like that.”
Celia looked down at her hands in her lap. “It feels weird to say out loud, but it’s true.”
Kelsey leaned closer, over the arm of her chair.
“This is León’s work, isn’t it?” she asked. “I gotta know, why are you listening to him? I’ve known you for like ten years. You barely know him.”
“It’s my lessons. He says I have to be honest about feelings, or I can’t paint.”
“Is that working?”
“A little,” Celia admitted. “It’s embarrassing. I wish people could understand without me having to say it. Like, you see me smile, so you know I’m happy.”
Kelsey laughed. “It’s different when you say it, though.”
“Scary.”
“Maybe. But, you might want to kiss someone or you might say, ‘I want to kiss you.’ Totally different.”
Celia nodded slowly. Huh.
“If you say it,” Kelsey continued, “the other person gets to respond. Maybe they want to kiss you too. Plus, they know you want it bad enough to say it out loud. I guess, saying it is an invitation to the other person to react.”
Celia kept nodding but felt her throat tighten. Kelsey was right; having feelings was only the first step. Dealing with the other person’s reaction was the terrifying part.
Kelsey gave her a shrewd look. “I always thought you were just private, but now that I’m seeing León hound you, I’m realizing you don’t mean to be, do you?”
Celia tensed. Be honest. “I’m too afraid to say things out loud, sometimes.”
“And all this time, I thought you just didn’t want to.” Kelsey smiled. “Honey, I could have helped. You know me. I’m safe to practice on.” She looked over at Andrew and Trevor, deep in discussion. “You can trust them too. You could try honesty on Andrew. He’s always chill.”
Celia laughed. “With Andrew? You know where connecting with him can land me. Though, he doesn’t ask about staying the night as much as he used to.”
Kelsey nodded toward the two men, absorbed in their talk. “Actually, I think that’s why.”
Celia kept her face carefully neutral until she could lean closer to her friend. “You mean, Andrew and Trevor…together?”
“I’ve been noticing for a while. They have chemistry.”
“Hmm.” Celia could see it, actually.
Kelsey leaned in even closer. “You know who else has chemistry?”
“Who?”
“You and León.”
Celia’s face flamed instantly. Good thing it was dark.
“Yeah, no,” she countered. “He was nice at first, but now he’s either shouting at me or locked up in the pool house.”
Kelsey waved her hand at the chair León had been sitting in. “When you’re both in the same place, you always face each other. I’ve been watching it. It’s funny.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” Celia objected.
“He pays way more attention to you than anyone else.”
Celia shook her head. “He’s always mad, though.”
Kelsey grinned. “In movies, if they fight, they’re in love!”
Celia had to laugh along with Kelsey. This was no movie!
“What’s so funny over there?” Andrew called, drawn to the laughter as his conversation with Trevor concluded.
“I’m telling her León likes her,” Kelsey explained, “but she doesn’t believe me.”
“León likes her fine,” Andrew said, rising from his chair. “And so do I, and so does Trevor, and so do you. Let’s eat cake! Let’s spank her for her birthday!”
“Don’t you dare!” Celia cried.
Kelsey’s beautiful cake was demolished, mostly by Andrew. As the fire died to embers, Celia began collecting the beer bottles, exhausted from being the center of attention for too long. It was a sign they all knew.
Trevor helped her take dishes to the kitchen while Andrew and Kelsey straightened the backyard. Andrew had to carefully rewrap his little sculptures as well.
“You and Andrew had plenty to talk about,” she told Trevor as they cleared the kitchen. She managed to catch a blush on his cheek. Maybe, then.
“Just art, the same as always,” he said, offhand.
Kelsey and Andrew came in—she carrying a bag of trash, and he, his bag and large sculpture. He set them all carefully on the kitchen island.
“Kelsey,” Trevor said, “I’m parked behind you. You’ll have to go before I can.”
“I’m ready.”
The two of them hugged Celia, wished her a happy birthday one last time, and left together. Andrew eyed the last piece of cake, still out.
“How can you eat more?” Celia said.
“Sometimes I’m not finished when I think I’m finished,” he said, giving her a look she knew very well.
“Ah.”
He moved in closer to her, warm brown arms stealing around her waist. “We could make this a really happy birthday.”
Well. It did feel good to be held after being alone so much lately. “Happy for whom?”
“Both of us.” Emboldened, he pressed his luck with a quick kiss. “It’s been a while. I could remind you what you’re missing.”
“No one’s missing anything,” she smiled. “I’m just convenient.”
“So am I. Do you have anything better on offer tonight? You know it’ll be nice.”
Sweet Andrew with his one-track mind. Celia felt no electricity, but the brush of his cheek past hers recalled warm, familiar nights. They had laughed together, nude, soaking in touch and darkness. She hadn’t felt as safe and wanted in a long time.
Why not?
She kissed him back lightly, having to stand on her toes to reach. An image of León rose in her mind. Would he notice Andrew had stayed? Well, what did that matter? She had a history with Andrew, and it was her birthday. She could treat herself if she wanted.
Andrew’s hands roamed a little further down onto her hips.
“I won’t even ask for breakfast, Celia, promise.”
“You don’t have to talk me into it. Yes.”
He picked her up with arms back around her waist, kissing her neck, tickling her where he knew she liked it. “Maybe you’ll get those birthday spankings after all.”
She laughed and squirmed in his arms. “Oh, no, I won’t!” she said. “Here, put me down. Let’s get the lights.”
He helped her shut down the house, knowing as well as she did which low lights to leave on. The cake and sculpture they left out, shutting the bedroom door behind them.