“Pretty soon you’ll be eating those words!” Ryan’s feet dug into the grass as he sprinted for us. Orange streaks seemed to litter the air around us. In an act of pure desperation, Ry began firing his water gun relentlessly, in the hope he would be able to hit one of us.
And yet, all of his efforts were in vain. Wren and I were able to avoid his attacks with ease. For someone in such great shape, Ry sure didn’t have a handle on this game.
“Are you trying to be this shitty at water gun fights, or are you really just this shitty at them?”
Ryan stopped mid-attack to consider my question. As he stood there, his clothes dripping with green and pink water, he was too distracted to notice Wren sneaking up behind him. When she fired off her shot, it was as if the stream of water was moving in slow motion. Bright green catapulted through the air, only to make contact with Ry’s pristine derriere.
“Double points for an ass shot!” she yelled.
“Is there no part of my body that is safe?”
“Only that pretty face!” I added, dousing each of his thighs.
“I have to look ridiculous right now.”
In every direction, other students skirted around our game, their eyes fixated on us with looks of amusement. I could only imagine the kind of spectacle we were creating for them.
“Not going to disagree with you there, Ry,” I stated in the sweetest tone imaginable.
“Was it your plan all along to gang up on me?” he questioned.
Wren and I nodded in unison. “Yeah, pretty much.”
Ry dramatically clutched his heart, dropping to his knees. “Is this the betrayal Caesar felt in his final moments?”
“Sorry, but I had to do something to make up for the pillow fight the other day. I sided with you because you promised to cook for me, and this beauty over here will never let me forget it.”
Flipping my hair over my shoulder, I couldn’t fight the grin spreading across my face. “You better believe it, babe. We will be in the nursing home together one day and I’ll be reminding you of it.”
“Can I be in the home with you guys too?” Ryan asked hopefully.
“If you want,” I answered.
“Awesome.” Before I could even comprehend what was happening, Ry dropped his water gun and lunged for us. Even though Wren was just a tiny little thing, she slipped away at a speed that would’ve made an Olympic sprinter proud. However, I had the strange suspicion I was the intended target all along as Ry crashed into me, his arms fastening around my waist. A single scream escaped my lips as we began to plummet toward the ground. My fingers dug into his back as I braced for impact.
But when I finally opened my eyes, Ry lay beneath me, his back flush against the grass.
“I may not have been able to land a hit on you, but I think I prefer this.” His clothes pressed against mine, dampening the dry fabric. I shivered as the tips of his fingers brushed my waist. “If you’re cold, I’d be more than happy to warm you up.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Absolutely.” A light breeze blew by and I shivered once more in response. “You really are cold,” he whispered, tightening his arms around me. Our chests pressed further into one another with each breath we took. This wasn’t the first time I’d found myself in Ry’s arms, and I prayed to heaven above that it wouldn’t be the last.
My thumb traced the line of his jaw as I continued to stare at him. I was aware that the world all around us kept spinning. Light radiated from the sun, illuminating everything in sight. Our fellow students bustled across campus in groups as they headed to their next class of the day. But as far as I was concerned, we were completely alone.
“I should get up.”
“Don’t,” he begged. “Stay here with me.”
“And why should I do that?” The words leaving my mouth may have been posed as a question, but it was actually a plea. Even if staying in his arms was dangerous, I needed Ry to give me a reason to stay. I wasn’t brave enough to navigate these waters on my own. There were a million things I could do alone, but this wasn’t one of them.
To build up the courage to leap, I would first have to know someone will be there to catch me.
“Because I’m not ready to stop holding on to you.”
“Good, because I’m not ready for you to stop either.”
I watched as the expression in his eyes brightened at my reply. Pure, unadulterated joy lit up my skin like a fireworks display on the Fourth of July as Ry brushed his nose against mine. The playful gesture elicited a smile from both of us. After a few seconds, the smiles faded as the space between our mouths began to vanish. In another breath, my lips would join with his.
And for the life of me, I couldn’t think of anything I wanted more.
My body had been craving his touch since the night we fooled Brooklyn into thinking she had stumbled upon us mid-hookup. I thought denying myself this kind of satisfaction was the smart thing to do, but the more time passed, the more I wanted him.
“Umm, guys.” The sound of Wren’s voice was like a swift kick in the gut. “I know y’all are having a very intense moment and everything, but a lot of people have gathered around to stare at you.”
I glanced upward only to see two dozen bodies hovering around us. Those students who were booking it to class a few minutes ago had stopped dead in their tracks to watch Ryan and me. Whistles and cheers sounded out. They were rooting for us to kiss, but what they didn’t realize was the moment had already passed.
Ryan helped me to my feet before putting some distance between us. The gathering crowd slowly began to dissipate once they realized the show was over.
“Wow,” Wren breathed.
“Can we pretend like that never happened?” I asked in a hushed voice.
“Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”
I groaned. “Of course not.”
“Hey, you’re the one recreating scenes from a steamy soap opera in public, babe. Not me.”
“You always have to add insult to injury, don’t you?”
She slid her arm around my waist, pulling me into her. “You know I love you.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
My spine stiffened as I noticed Ryan making his way over to us. “Are you still wanting to take pictures of our clothes?” he questioned. “Other than a single spot on Wren’s shirt and a few splotches on yours, you guys pretty much look spotless.”
I stared at my shirt. Even though I hadn’t sustained a direct hit from Ry’s water gun, some of the stains on his clothes had transferred to mine when I’d been laying on top of him. “Pristine outfits kind of defeat the purpose of my project.”
“I figured as much.”
Wren and I accepted the Super Soakers he handed off to us, knowing we wouldn’t be able to gang up on him again. And much to Ry’s elation, our trio was joined by two bystanders. Now, the Crayola War was a free-for-all match of epic proportions. A shower of red, blue, orange, pink, and green littered the air in a colorful display. It reminded me of the little fight between two of the good fairies in Sleeping Beauty and their incessant dissent over whether pink or blue should reign supreme.
We battled to our heart’s content until our stores of water had been depleted. Watching my friends, I realized this project was more than a simple visual representation of color. My teacher wanted his students to push past the limits of conventional thinking. Had I turned our bodies into living canvases and created something eye-catching?
Yes.
Yet, this project broke through those boundaries. The smile on Wren and Ryan’s faces said it all. The real art being created today were the memories we would share for a lifetime.
“EVERYONE SETTLE DOWN AND pull out your completed assignments,” Jonas stated. Even though he was our teacher, calling him Mr. Elam just didn’t feel right.
I filtered past a few of my classmates to my assigned table and proceeded to pull out the dried clothes and pictures I’d taken following the Crayola War. To be honest, the clot
hes turned out better than I was expecting. I was hoping for something similar to one of Monet’s paintings, and that goal had been achieved.
Taking a quick survey of the room, I studied all the projects people had been working on. It seemed creativity knew no bounds. Some people had painted elaborate pots while others constructed ornate jewelry. One girl even painted classic fairytale scenes on a shawl.
“So far, I’m pleased with what I see. I wanted to push you to think outside the box and it looks like most of you ran with that idea.” Jonas approached the front row, bending to get a better look at Ben’s project. “I am going to talk to each of you about your projects and the inspiration behind them. Then I’m going to select my five favorites pieces. If your piece is chosen, you will be able to exhibit your work on an entire wall in the art show next month.”
Hushed whispers sounded throughout the room at his announcement. The art show was a huge deal, and most students were lucky to get a single painting or drawing included. But an entire wall to ourselves? Shit . . . That was like the equivalent of giving a historian the Holy Grail.
I nervously chewed on my fingernails while waiting for Jonas to make his rounds. Walking into class, I had been so confident in the work I’d done, but after seeing a bit of everyone else’s projects, that confidence faded. Who was I kidding?
Everyone else had spent their time working their fingers to the bone to create something beautiful while I basically played water tag with my friends.
Ugh.
Why in the actual fuck did my brain have to think of this now?
Whipping out my phone, I sent a quick text to Ry, hoping he could convince me I wasn’t a complete and utter failure.
Me: I feel like the biggest failure of all time. I mean, why did I even think my project was anything special? Compared to everyone else in my class, I’m a freaking amateur. I’ll never be taken seriously as an artist.
Almost immediately, my phone vibrated in my hand, and a sense of relief filled my bones as I realized he had already texted me back.
Ryan: What are you talking about? Your project is great! Did someone say something to you about it?
Me: No. But I’m sitting here in class, and as I look at the projects everyone else has come up with, I can’t help but feel that mine is subpar. I mean, we played with Super Soakers, for God’s sake.
Ryan: Ter, you’re the most creative person I’ve ever met in my life. Not only was your project extremely imaginative, it was a fucking blast too. And if anyone tells you anything different, I’ll beat their ass.
Me: Promise?
Ryan: Of course. When do you get done with class?
Me: I still have two hours left.
Ryan: I won’t be done with my internship until 5:00. Come over to my place at 5:30 and I’ll spend all night convincing you of what an amazing artist you are.
Unable to help myself, I chuckled at his text. It didn’t matter what kinds of thoughts or negativity were swimming about my head, Ry always knew how to make me smile. Not to mention, there were so many sexual innuendos lurking in that message that it was impossible to keep a straight face.
Me: You didn’t think about how dirty that message sounded before you sent it, did you?
Ryan: Nope.
Me: LOL I suspected as much.
Ryan: I made you laugh though, didn’t I?
Me: Yep.
Ryan: Mission accomplished. I’ll see you later.
Despite having a few momentary confidence issues, my smile never faded. No matter what Jonas thought about my project, I was going to hang out with Ry later. And that was reason enough to be happy.
Those positive vibes lasted until Jonas arrived at my table. “So, tell me what we have here,” he said, reaching for one of the colored shirts I brought.
Tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I explained my entire thought process behind the Crayola War. “Well, I was originally inspired by the impressionistic painting styles of Monet, but as I delved deeper into the assignment, I also realized that I’d drawn a lot of inspiration from my childhood. My friends and I used to spend our summers soaking one another with water guns, and I thought the nostalgia from those memories would also be interesting to incorporate.”
“I can see that,” Jonas murmured as he looked through all the pictures Wren, Ryan, and I had taken. “And it looks like the three of you had a lot of fun as well.”
I laughed, my mind recalling the way Wren and I had stood victorious against Ry. “Not going to lie, it was a freaking blast.”
“So, what is the true art you created here?”
I smiled, already knowing the answer to his question. “The memories.”
“Care to elaborate on that?”
“When I started this project, I thought the clothes would be my medium, and then I changed my mind and decided the pictures would be the true art because they would capture all of our expressions. But then, after everything was said and done, I realized the true art was the laughter and fun I had with my friends. My memories of that experience will stay with me for a very long time.”
Jonas nodded his head before breaking into a wide grin. “I love it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I pushed you to think outside the box and you delivered—not only with your actual concept, but with the art you created as well. Art is meant to touch our souls, and yours has clearly been touched.”
He patted me on the shoulder before moving on to the next person. At that moment, I was riding on the highest of highs. Maybe my dreams of being an artist weren’t as farfetched as I thought.
Jonas spent the remainder of the class analyzing each project. He spent a considerable amount of time not only studying the items we’d created but talking to us as well. After what felt like an eternity and a couple new sketches in my pad, he returned to the front of the classroom. “I want to commend each and every one of you for a job well done! You all took a difficult assignment and made it your own,” he announced. “Thank you for making my decision a very hard one. However, my favorite projects were created by the following students: Ben, Amara, Janine, Zachary, and Terayn.”
An invigorating mixture of surprise and elation surged through my body. Holy shit! Jonas liked my project enough to not only let me be in the art show but have an entire wall to myself as well. If I pinched myself, I would surely discover this was all some wild dream. So, just to be sure, I squeezed a bit of skin between my thumb and index finger. After a few seconds passed, I released my fingers and opened my eyes. But nothing had changed, and I most definitely wasn’t dreaming.
“Hey! Nice job,” Ben said, walking over to give me a high five.
“I should be saying the same thing to you!”
“Feels pretty good, doesn’t it?”
“I think incredible is the word you’re looking for,” I answered.
“You’re right. Well, I have another class after this, but I just wanted to come over and say congrats.”
“Thanks, and same to you! I can’t wait to see your wall in the show.”
“Same here,” he called out, backing up toward the door.
With a final wave, I slid the sketch pad and pens I’d been drawing with into my messenger bag.
“I don’t see what is so great about her project. I mean, she just made tie-dye shirts,” a voice stated loudly from behind me. “I’m sorry, but I thought we were supposed to create an actual work of art.”
My vision went black. I spun around to see who the owner of the voice was. McKenzie stood before me with her arms crossed over her chest defiantly. Although her comment was directed at me, her friends flanked her on either side. So, she was unhappy with Jonas’s selection but wasn’t brave enough to speak up about it in class? “I spent hours on the necklace I made, and you got to have a water gun fight. How is that an accurate representation of all the work we put into this assignment?”
There was only so much insult I could withstand before opening my damn mouth. I mean, did she expect m
e to sit there and say nothing? I’m all for constructive criticism, but her bitchy tone was far from it.
“Believe what you want, but I put a lot of thought and effort into my project. Not to mention, Jonas likes it, so if you have an issue with the projects he selected, then you should take it up with him.”
“I just think the quality of our projects should be taken into account.”
“I’m sure he factored it into his deliberation. I’m sorry your project wasn’t chosen, but I didn’t make that decision. In fact, you’re nothing more than a sore loser, so if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” I flung my messenger bag over my shoulder dramatically and waltzed out of the classroom like her words had zero effect on me. Even if the venom spewing from her lips had infiltrated my brain.
McKenzie had taken the word rude to a whole ‘nother level. I’d been floating on cloud nine ever since Jonas uttered my name, but that mood had been pretty much obliterated by McKenzie’s comments.
With a heavy sigh, I headed toward my car and began the drive to Ryan’s apartment. The pit stop I made for milkshakes was a necessity. There was no way I could face these feelings of inadequacy without massive amounts of sugar.
Walking up the steps leading to Ryan’s apartment, I rang the doorbell and waited patiently for him to answer.
The moment the door opened, I barged inside. “Here,” I said, handing off a strawberry milkshake.
“What is this for?” Ry asked.
“A bitch in my art class was super sucky and made me feel like a fraud so I decided to ease my pain with a couple of milkshakes.”
“A couple?”
“I drank half of yours in the car. Sorry, I couldn’t decide between chocolate and strawberry.”
“That’s okay,” he replied with a slight laugh. “So, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Dropping my bag on the floor, I crossed the living room of Ry’s apartment and collapsed on the couch. “Well, Jonas, my art teacher, selected my project as one of his five favorites out of the entire class.”
“Ter, that’s amazing! I mean, the top five in the class is a good thing, right?”
Not Without You Page 10