Page 33 of Chasing Me

Ugh.

I spent the rest of the day researching other art schools and hitting the pavement at various stores and museums, asking for applications while well-dressed receptionists wrinkled their noses at me, asking me first what my degree was in.

I didn’t care.In fact, I began sifting through the idea of doing something completely different.I’d take extra shifts at Joe’s, maybe add another odd job for the money, and build my own collection.Then I’d use the Internet to market it.I’d noticed some craft stores where artists gave up a percentage of commission to sell.Hell, I’d take the time to build my contacts, and create my own shit.I didn’t need Ava or the Brush Institute to validate my talent, and if I tapped into my own drive, I’d build something on my own.

I headed to the studio, feeling stronger about my direction, and when I got there a big crowd had formed around a posted piece of paper in the hallway.

“What’s going on?”I asked a pretty blonde, who was leaning against one of the art cases.

“The artists for the expo were picked.”

“Oh.”I didn’t even bother, not wanting to depress myself any further.I headed toward my workroom to set up for class, already prepping for my confrontation with Ava.I wouldn’t let her win.She’d probably made all that shit up just to cover her ass for not picking me for the expo.I was over it.

I was laying out my charcoal pencils when Tony, a guy from my class, came rushing in.“Dude!Did you see?I can’t believe it.”

“See what?”

He stood there, gaping.“The expo, man.Your name is listed.You made it!”

I blinked.Wondered if I’d heard right.Then, shaking my head, I raced back down the hallway and pushed my way into the crowd so I could read the list.

#4 – James Hunt.

What the fuck?I stood in shock while the students clapped me on the shoulder, offering their congratulations.Impossible.She’d picked me even after our episode.

But why?

I should have been over the fucking moon, but my gut clenched with worry.Something was off.I needed to talk to her, make sure she wasn’t playing any mind games with me.My head spun, but already, the possibility had been extended, and now I wanted it so badly I couldn’t think of having it yanked away from me.Would she blackmail me?No, she should have known I’d never agree to do anything that would hurt my relationship with Quinn, even for the expo.I tried to calm my beating heart, act cool, and wait for Ava to show up and make some sense of it.

She never did.

Instead, another instructor came into class, explaining he’d be taking over for the day.He congratulated the students who’d made the list, and everyone clapped for me since I was the only one from Ava’s class to get in.

Shit.I wouldn’t get my answers yet.

My head wasn’t in the right place, but I tried to make the best of it, using the class time to try to clear my mind by losing myself in work.

I checked my watch and decided to get something to eat.I kept thinking of Brian’s words, warning me I’d never be good for Quinn.I turned over Ava’s declaration that Quinn wasn’t a good fit.It seemed no matter who I spoke with, everyone was against us.Normally, it would make me want to fight harder, but the doubt had been seeded, and I was afraid it was starting to sprout.

Would she be better off without me?Was I being a selfish prick by not letting her go?

I didn’t know how long I’d brooded and thought and pondered.It seemed like no matter how hard I fought or tried to get into positive space, my doubts roared over me like a monster hiding under the bed.

I finally decided to do the only thing that made sense.Work.I quickly texted Quinn I’d be at the studio till late and offered her breakfast in bed, then headed back.Maybe if I immersed myself into the only world that ever made sense, I’d find the answer to this world.Scoffing at my philosophical thoughts, I decided to go for oils, setting up a brilliant white canvas before me.I stared at the blank space, relishing that first moment of competition, the stare-down between artist and canvas, the challenge on who would win.My blood warmed and my head cleared, and I attacked, letting all the mess flow through my brush and out.

I worked like a demon, losing myself, without any idea how much time had passed.Eventually, I began to surface, splatters of paint on my shirt, my hand cramped, and I blinked, coming to.

“Not bad.”

I jumped, whirling around.Ava stood behind me, studying the swirl of bold colors and jagged lines that made out a couple kissing, wrapped up in each other, pressed against the wall.I’d used colors rather than blacks and whites, and sketchy, rough figures rather than fleshed-out people, giving it an almost crazy, Picasso-like image I’d never experimented with before.It was weird, but arresting, forcing you to try to figure things out.I wasn’t even sure what I was trying to say with the piece, but it didn’t matter.

Anger shot through me, but I was still a bit weak from the burst of creative work.“What are you doing here?”

“Needed to catch up on some work.See, this is more structured with the lines here.”She brushed her finger over air, following the curves of the woman’s body and hidden face.“Yet you got messy and real.You’re fucked-up in the head right now, huh?”

I stared at this demon creature who somehow managed to beat me up in the same statement she gave me a compliment.I studied her for a while, trying to figure her out.She wore another of her favorite black pantsuits, but it was tight, hugging every part of her body, and the red tank underneath her jacket showed an impressive amount of cleavage.Her hair was scraped back from her face again.I couldn’t decide if she was wildly attractive or just plain scary, with the slight sneer on her too-full bloodred lips, white skin, and sharp features.

“Are you proud of yourself?”I asked.“You’re the one who fucked up my head.Why did you put me in the show?”

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