Page 60 of Caught in a Bad Fauxmance
I’ve already taken two, but I give him a thumbs-up. My scalp is as raw as my chewed up lower lip, but hey, third time’s the charm, right?
Dad closes the door with a promise to bring dinner once it’s ready, and I’m left alone with my thoughts again.
I pull out my sketchbook. The latest sketch is still bare bones, but it makes my heart flutter the way none of the other pieces I’ve worked on have. For the first time, it feels like I’m creating something that mightreallydefine who I am, and what I can do as an artist. It may not be as flashy or high concept as the pieces I’ll be up against to win over Professor Cardarelli, but like everything that lives in my sketchbook, it doesn’t have to be. Because that’s not what this piece is about.
A boy with untamable hair, a jaw carved by angels, and the most kind and wonderful smile I’ve ever known, gazing up at the starlit sky. A portrait that bottles every complex emotion I’ve felt about its subject, of a moment I’ll always want to remember.
Okay…Maya may have had a point.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I don’t know if it’s the guilt, regret, or longing, but I can’t sleep.
My mind isn’t allowed to wander unsupervised anymore. Every time it does, it goes somewhere it shouldn’t. A slew of ASMR videos make me drowsy, but something always wakes me up, prickling down my spine until all the exhaustion melts from my body.
One can only go down so many YouTube rabbit holes. After seven true-crime videos in a row, I’m a new kind of nervous, because hello, we’re in a remote cabin in the middle of the woods. How have we not revisited the possibility of an ax murderer in our midst? I shift over to music once I’ve figured out the perfect escape route in case the potential murderer decides to attack tonight.
I find my way to New Nostalgia without thinking, hovering over the title of the song Julian had played earlier. I hitplay and settle into my blanket cocoon, cranking up the volume to drown out Andy’s snoring.
It’s easier to connect with the lyrics this time. On a closer listen, it’s not really about a giant squid. Well, it is, but it’s also about regret. About hurting someone you barely knew and falling slowly for them in the aftermath.
I’m only halfway through the song when I smash the Next button, unable to make it through to the end. It’s too on the nose, as if it transcribed the static that rings in my ears whenever I think about Julian into lyrics and melodies. The next song isn’t as loaded, a more upbeat track about new love in the spring. It takes three more songs until my heart slows down and I’m able to think coherently again. New Nostalgia’s songs all sound a bit similar, but they’re the type of catchy I won’t be able to get out of my head for weeks.
After streaming the album twice over, skippingthatsong both times, I text Julian.
Hey
I’m really sorry about today. I was distracted by family stuff
Leaving it there doesn’t feel like enough. Less is more when it comes to texting, but I don’t know how to keep from word vomiting.
are all of New Nostalgia’s albums this heavy on the ocean creature imagery? or was this album a one-off?
that said the amount of ways they managed to make octopus rhyme is very impressive
It’s not an ideal way to bridge the gap between us following this afternoon. I could’ve led with the truth, but this sounds way better than “Hey, sorry I shut you down today; I had to protect you from a literal bloodbath.” He doesn’t owe me kindness, though, especially not after blowing him off. So I set my phone on my nightstand, not expecting a reply.
But his response comes almost immediately.
Just this one. But their last album had a bunch of metaphors involving goats? Maybe they’re very into animal imagery in general
I snort, double-checking that I haven’t woken Andy up before hiding my phone beneath my comforter. While his reply is clearly casual, he didn’t acknowledge the apology either. Maybe he’s still pissed?
I’m halfway through typing out a response when I remember the time. With the exception of the night we’d spent at Mami’s secret pier, I’ve never seen or heard from Julian past sundown. I assumed he’s one of those gremlin people who can’t be seen or fed after dark, which is fair considering his dad makes him get up at the ass crack of dawn every day.
what’re you still doing up? aren’t you supposed to be waking up in three hours for a jog or hot yoga or something?
Ha ha. I’m taking the morning off. Watched a horror movie with Stella and now I can’t sleep. The clothes on my desk chair are too suspicious.
The thought of him cowering under his own comforter makes me laugh so hard I have to cover my mouth, sure that I’ve woken up Andy this time. But thankfully he’s as knocked out as ever.
be careful, I heard deaths by clothing are on the rise
Well, guess I’m a goner. It’s been nice knowing you. Mourn me for 30 days before you find a new fake lover.
I bite back a grin, holding my fist up to my mouth. Why can’t everything be this easy? No drawn-out apologies, no explanations, just moving on as if nothing happened.
He sends another message before I can reply.
