Page 53 of Rivals
OBA isn’t like cocaine or heroin, but I definitely wish I had some right now. I would be a lot more chill instead of spiraling and feeling like I’m about to drown. I don’t want to drown.
You won’t drown, Revna. Let him help you float.
What the hell does that mean? I swear I’m about to check myself in because my brain likes to feed me cryptic messages that make me want to rip my hair out. I watch the judges observe a giant piece of pottery that is such a deep black it looks like a black hole about to suck me in. I would go willingly if it meant I could hide from all of this.
We’re up next. Lachlan’s hand squeezes again, and he drops it from my body. The judges walk up to us and nod their heads in greeting. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from shifting constantly. Lachlan looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world. They take a few notes. One nods his head, and the others tilt theirs. Then they just …walk away.
I’m going to explode.
Lachlan’s jaw is so firm it could crack marble. My hand reaches for his, and he takes it immediately. Our fingers intertwine, and my heart beats out of my chest. And it has nothing to do with the judges.
***
Usually, it takes the judges just a little bit to make their decisions, but there are thirty students now, and this is one of the largest cuts they’ve had to make, leaving only ten to get to the next round.
While we waited for the judges to deliberate, I looked at the other pieces presented, and it made me nervous. Some were stunning. All I can do is hope our take on the greats was enough. I’m not so sure it was.
“Revna!” Lachlan whisper-shouts and waves me over. I turn around, and the judges file in. It took them an hour to decide, and I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I hurry over to my place beside Lachlan and he squeezes my arm reassuringly.
Professor Tate walks to the center of all the walls so everyone can see her. “Alright, everyone, I wanted to tell you all congratulations. Some of you are my students, and some are not. But you really have outdone yourself. I don’t know that I have ever seen some of you, referring to my students, put out such good work. Looks like I just needed to raise the stakes,” she says, laughing a little. Light laughter fills the room, and she looks at Lachlan and me. I want to turn into his shoulder and hide. “It was very difficult for the judges to select ten of you. They will walk around shortly with their plaques to put next to the works if you made it.” Lachlan’s hand slides around my waist again as if holding onto me is keeping him from losing it, yet it also grounds me.
“If you did make it to the semi-finals, I am proud to announce that in a few months, you will be sent to Italy to compete in the semi-finals. Part of the rules is that you create your submissions, whatever that may mean, in their entirety in Italy. The additional rules will be handed to you after the winners are selected. Thank you all for coming, and good luck.”
The mic shuts off, and I am stunned.Italy?I have wanted to go there my entire life. Italy!
“Lach—“
“I know,” he says in a hushed whisper. I can’t breathe as we wait to see if the judges come to us. This would be our ticket. Even if we don’t win the competition, eyes would be on us, and this could be the break we need. We stay in our spot, and I wipe my forehead from phantom sweat as Lachlan’s hand twitches on my hip. A guy who made a beautiful painting was passed up and furiously punched a hole through the canvas. I hope I’m not that guy. It feels like hours until the judges make it to our section.
The judges look at the striking blown-up photo across from us first. One of the judges puts an opaque red plaque next to the photo. I hold my breath as they turn to face us, fearing I’ll sound like a dog panting. My stomach twists, and I think I’m about to upchuck the entire table of food Lachlan and I inhaled while we waited. The judges turn to us and step up to the wall where our names and information are labeled, sticking a plaque next to it.
Blood roars in my ears, and I stare at the red piece of plastic that says semi-finalist. My hands shake, and Lachlan won’t let go of me. One of the female judges approaches us. “This is utterly resplendent. I have not seen such a beautiful display of classicism and dramatic naturalism in a long time. This is a modern homage to the greats. You two should be very proud of yourselves. Keep putting things like this out, and you might just change the world.” My eyes widen.
“Change the world?” I say. Why would our paintings change the world? That’s dramatic.
“You two don’t see it, do you?” she says.
“See what?” Lachlan asks.
“I have been in this industry for a very long time. I have seen a lot of good and very bad art. I was there in the sixties with the rise of Warhol and that insane performance art, but we have pulled away from the classic for too long. We have lost sight of the power art has to speak to the soul to show us that there is more than yourself. You two have done that here, and I can’t wait to see what you come up with in Italy.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Lachlan rasps. She dips her head and catches up with the rest of the judges, doling out their final plaques.
“We did it,” I whisper.
His hands still haven’t moved from my hips, and he spins me around so I’m facing him. His palms frame my face as he searches my eyes for a moment and lunges at my lips. I can sense how he feels, what he can’t say with words as his tongue slides against mine, tasting of victory and a tinge of honey. I hold on to the hem of his shirt and fist it as tightly as I can. He pulls away just enough for us to breathe and rests his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t have done this without you, little bird,” he says.
“As much as I hate to admit it, I have to agree. I know I couldn’t have done this on my own.” He chuckles, and his breath fans across my cheekbones. His hands come to rest at the base of my spine.
“I don’t understand how we got here, Revna, but I know it was for a reason.”
I nod, my throat too tight to say anything else. It’s been a whirlwind, and I think he’s right. The voice in my head said as much. But if I tell him that, I’m sure he will think I’m crazy. He might be the best thing that has ever happened to me. He might be the very reason I can follow my dreams and not drown at the same time.
Dreams are those things you hope for, but you have to decide if you want to work for them. When I left my last foster home, I decided to try. I owed it to myself to try because I quite literally had nothing and no one to lose. Now, I’m here, and it’s possible Lachlan will stay, and that makes the lonely organ in my chest skip a beat because it means I have something to lose.
Or maybe you have everything to gain.
I don’t jump like I have been. I’m starting to get used to hearing the voice. Though it doesn’t scare me any less than it did before. I really may be losing my mind.
