Page 7 of Rivals
I basically had to scrape myself out of bed. The come down from some intense OBA was bad enough that I will never touch that shit again. Lesson learned.
I walk to my place to grab my canvas, and I freeze. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. He knew it was me. That’s the only thing I can think of. Only this prick didn’t even try to hide his handiwork. He was blatant about it, using the same damn colors on his own painting. At least I messed his uptastefully.
My breath stutters and I take a second, letting the anger, the pure rage of getting caught and losing my chance at the MoMA, run through me. I can’t not show up. So I take a deep breath, grab my garbage, and walk to the presenting gallery. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but I couldn’t stand to see him win. At least I know he won’t make it to the next round, either.
Bury it right now, Revna. You can let it out later, just not here. Don’t let him see you break. He isn’t worth the canvas you paint on. I walk through the space quickly, looking for my designated spot. Of course.
Lachlan leans against the short wall next to his ruined work. He sips his coffee and stares at me. His jaw is so firm I’m sure his molars are being ground into dust. I hang my canvas and step back, returning my glare to his. I know he knows it was me. I know it was him. I could tell Professor Tate. But if I do, I would also out myself. Not only would I lose the competition, but would lose the degree I’ve killed myself to earn. I didn’t work multiple jobs, deal with the worst artists and best artists I have ever seen, to be put down by a pompous asshole who thinks he’s better than me. Oh no, I have to be smart about it. I’ll get him back and not leave a trace behind. But I will make sure he knows it’s me.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we are going to get started. I would like for all of you to stand next to your piece. Be prepared to answer questions and present if asked. As a reminder, this is the first round of many. All fifty of you will not make it to the next round, so thank you in advance for your hard work. Twenty of you will make it to the next out of five total. You will be notified after all works are observed and all questions answered. Do we have any questions?”
No one speaks.
Professor Tate claps her hands and guides the judges to the other side of the room. My heart is slamming in my chest. Not because I’m nervous, but because I am so angry, I swear steam is coming out of my ears. We’re both going to lose now. Which I guess means I got what I wanted. But I’m also mad at myself for not thinking ahead, anticipating that this asshole would try something with me. It doesn’t matter if I deserve it or not.
I feel his eyes on me even though my back is to him. I’m watching the judges, trying to gauge how they see things. It’s a moot point, but I’m curious nonetheless. Professor Tate introduces each artist and then allows them to explain their work if asked. Each judge seemed to consider each piece carefully. I personally think they probably have already decided who made it and who didn’t with one look.
The group of judges eventually make their way to the wall where my painting hangs next to Lachlan’s. Professor Tate stares at me and then turns to Lachlan. My eyes follow the same direction as hers. His jaw ticks, but he seems to keep his cool. She looks back at me, and then she looks at our paintings spaced apart. The judges study each of them carefully. I want to scream that I was sabotaged, but that would admit fault, and I refuse to do that. If I’m going down, he’s going down with me.
I wait for the judges to ask us something, and our Professor stays silent. I glance at Lachlan, and he stands with his hands clasped in front of him. His rings glint off the light, catching my eye. He doesn’t look at me, but I know he knows I’m watching him. Rather glaring at him. The judges carefully seem to study each of our canvases. They take a few notes on their notepads, and then…walk away. Not a single question or “very good.” I guess I shouldn’t be surprised it’s awful, and there isn’t anything to ask about.
Professor Tate lingers and eyes both of us. “Both of you in my office when we are done here.”
Shit.
I’m going to get kicked out of school when I am less than half a semester from finally completing it. I glance at Lachlan, and if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right here. I nod, and he does the same. She strolls away, joining the judges.Deny, deny, deny.I won’t admit to anything. Maybe Lachlan can dig his own grave and save me the blisters from the shovel.
Lachlan takes a step toward me and leans in. My stomach does something weird as I narrow my eyes on him. “I know it was you.” I shrug, feigning indifference.
“I know whatyou did,“ I say, glaring at him.
The judging ends, and they all leave the room, likely to discuss who will move forward and who will not. “The judges are going to take some time to consider all of your work and will come back to let us know who will make it to the next round. In the meantime, relax and be back in about thirty minutes.” She comes over to Lachlan and I. “Both of you, follow me, please.”
I could run. I could get out now, and she couldn’t confirm anything except go off of Lachlan’s word, which may or may not be a bad thing because he doesn’t have proof, at most assumption. But I don’t. I follow them into her office, though my legs continue to tingle with the need to take off. Lachlan fidgets with one of his rings. He does that when we are in class sometimes. I figure it’s some kind of nervous tick.
Professor Tate crosses her arms and gestures for us both to sit. I remain standing because I don’t think I can sit still. Lachlan smugly walks around to one of the chairs in front of Professor Tate’s desk and plops down, not a care in the world.
The Professor’s lips purse as she studies both of us. We are a sight for sore eyes, I’m sure. Most art students are. I lift my chin, faking all the confidence I can in my thrifted jeans and decent blouse I wore for presentations.I tried, ok?
“Alright, I’m not going to ask either of you anything directly, but I want to make myself very clear. I know you two did something to each other’s work.” She pauses, and neither Lachlan nor I make a move to say anything. “Uh-huh. Well, here is what’s going to happen. You can continue in the competition as a team, or you are both disqualified, and Iwilldig further into what happened between you two. That isn’t either of your own work, that much I do know.”
She cannot be serious. Work withhim? I can hardly stand in the same room as him, breathing the same air. What makes her think I could even consider working with him on a project that has this much weight? It’s not possible, and I would rather lose it all.
I don’twantto give it all up. But hey, people like me hardly ever get what they worked to earn. That’s the way of the world. I accepted that a long time ago. At least I sold one good piece. Maybe I can go somewhere else and see if I can start my own shop or something. It will take longer to get exposure, but I’ll figure it out. I always do.
“Alright,” Lachlan says.
My jaw drops to the floor, I’d need some kind of carjack to get it off the ground. “Um, no, absolutely not. I don’t know who you think you are, thinking you can speak for me, but absolutely not. Nope,” I say, gesturing with my hands out as my heart races in my chest.
“If you don’t, Revna, you won’t graduate. I have known you ever since you started here. You really don’t want to at least try and get along long enough to get your degree? You’ve worked hard for this, and frankly, I don’t see any other option. I am the only one who knows well enough to know you both did something. Don’t put me in the position to have to kick both of you out. You each have a talent I haven’t seen in a while; don’t make me do this. But make no mistake, I will if I have to. The choice is yours.”
“But—“ Professor Tate holds up her hand, halting my words. I won’t yell at her, I won’t disrespect her that way. She has been there to help me a lot over the years and deserves nothing but respect from me.
“Nope, no buts, Revna. Talk it over between the two of you.” She glances at her watch. “You have about twenty minutes before the judges are back, so decide quickly.”
She promptly walks right back out of her office, closing the door behind her. I stand there, stunned and completely unsure of what to do. She’s right, I’m so close. No, I shouldn’t have done what I did, but I couldn’t help myself. I’m pissed and jealous. I’ll never tell him that. It would be a cold day in hell before that happened. But, I made my bed so now I have to sleep in it and well… I guess it’s kind of like the movie. I have to sleep with my enemy. Well, no, not likethat. Again, cold. Day. In. Hell.
Lachlan still has his back turned to me. His neck is tight, and his shoulders are bunched. His t-shirt is so threadbare I can see the black ink on his shoulder. I can’t tell what it says, but then again, I don’t care. He sighs, and my eyes immediately roll into the back of my head.
