Undertow (Dragonfly)

by Moore, Leigh Talbert

  Now, finally, I’m back at school. Suzanne’s back as well, but she only brought a small suitcase and isn’t moving in. When she told me why, my heart broke. She landed an internship at a big advertising agency in Atlanta, and I have to find a new roommate after the first week of classes.

  “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me like this,” I said. “Who will I go to for advice on my love life?”

  “You say that as if you’ve ever listened to anything I told you,” she smirked, tossing an arm over my shoulders.

  “I listened. It’s just, sometimes I have to do some trial and error work, that’s all.”

  “You should look up Evan,” she said, placing her head against mine. “He’s back, and the summer months were very good to him.”

  I sighed. “Evan’s nice, but he wasn’t too thrilled when I cut things off abruptly last fall.”

  She smiled and gave me a squeeze before releasing me. “As pretty as you are, I think you could change his mind if you wanted.”

  “Besides, I’m still with Nick,” I said, trying to be positive. “I can’t go chasing after somebody else when I’m still seeing him.”

  She gave me a skeptical look. “And have you seen the narcoleptic professor yet?”

  I pushed her arm. “Stop calling him that. No, I haven’t made it to his office yet, but I’m planning to give him a call in a few days.”

  “A few days? If you guys are so together, what are you waiting for?”

  I looked down. “I was hoping he might call me first.”

  “Oh, Alex. You’re hopeless.”

  I didn’t need her to tell me that.

  Aug. 25, 19--

  Several days did go by, and I never heard from Nick. I called and left a few messages, but he never returned my calls. I decided to chalk it up to the craziness of getting back in town from a trip abroad and preparing for the start of classes, but I was getting a sick feeling in my gut.

  School was in session, and this year I’d signed up for figure drawing. I knew the instructor Ms. Finch shared Nick’s room, and that had been part of my motivation for taking the class. Now I was dreading getting there, but I had to face this sooner or later. I decided to make it sooner and arrived early.

  My heart stopped when I saw him. There he was, his shaggy dark hair swept back, his long elegant hands spanning a finished piece as he made a point about color or composition on the canvass. I could hear the vibration of his voice, and I leaned my head against the door frame watching him through the glass. He was dressed in his usual blazer and jeans, and I imagined sliding my hands up his body underneath them. I wished we could blow off classes and spend the afternoon catching up.

  It was very selfish of me to begrudge him a trip to study with a master painter. Now he could show me all he’d learned, and it would be like I’d gone and studied with a master too.

  I tore my eyes off him to survey the new class of students. Freshmen. They were so bright-eyed and chubby-cheeked. The excitement and nervousness of not knowing what to expect and not wanting to fail was plain on their faces, and in some of the eyes I recognized my own first-year infatuation with this handsome instructor who stood there holding the keys to all things art.

  Nick stepped down from the platform to make his way around the room. I remembered his way of checking each canvass and offering constructive criticism. His tips were usually helpful and not petty or small the way some art instructors’ were. I saw him pat a male student on the back, and then he stopped at the canvass of a pretty blonde female. He pointed to the top of the canvass and then turned to look at her. He smiled. He turned back to stand beside her and look at her work. His hand went down and lightly rested on her lower back…

  “Alex, you’re here!”

  I almost jumped out of my skin at the sound of Evan’s voice. I turned quickly, putting my back against the wall outside the classroom, and noticed Suzanne was right, he had changed. He’d filled out or something. His shoulders seemed broader, but I couldn’t care. I couldn’t see anything except Nick caressing that pretty blonde student.

  “Are you feeling okay?” Evan’s brow creased. “You look like you’re going to puke.”

  “I’m sorry.” I shook my head and looked down. “I was just early for my next class. How was your summer?”

  “No complaints here,” he said. Then he leaned past me to look through the window. “Looks like Professor Slimeball’s found his newest Freshmeat. Can you believe that guy?”

  I blinked. “Who? Professor Parker?”

  “He’s infamous. It’s the same game every year,” Evan groaned. “Finds some unsuspecting freshman to hook up with then ditches her just in time for summer break. Asshole. Didn’t he try that shit with you last year?”

  My stomach felt like it was lurching. “Yeah,” I said. “We went out a few times.”

  “Well, good thing you’re smarter than that.” Evan placed his arm across my shoulder, but he was right. I did feel like I was going to puke. “So I was thinking, we never seemed to make a connection last year. Maybe we could try again? You up for grabbing some lunch with me sometime?”

  I had to get away from Evan and this building and the stench of old walls and molding paint before I lost my breakfast. “I gotta go, Evan. I’ll see ya around.”

  I turned and fled back to my room as the tears started streaming down my face. I couldn’t believe I’d been so stupid. I’d waited all summer to get back and throw my arms around him and tell him how much I’d missed him. I’d laid awake nights sweating in the heat and humidity of Miss Stella’s poorly insulated old home thinking of him and wondering if he missed the touch of my hands and the feel of my lips as much as I missed his.

  I was such a fool.

  My apartment was empty, and I threw myself on the bed to cry until I had no more tears left. Hours later, Suzanne came home. She only had a few days before she moved to Atlanta, and I didn’t know what I’d do without her.

  “Alex? You here?” I was curled in a ball in the center of my bed listening to her bang through the door. “What’s up?” she called.

  I rolled over to look at her, not even sure if I wanted to talk yet. I shook my head.

  “Oh my God!” She crossed the room to me quickly. “You’re a wreck! What happened?”

  My voice sounded almost feral as I wept out the answer. “I saw Nick.”

  “And?” she urged.

  “And nothing. I didn’t even speak to him. He was teaching a class and then he went and started touching this blonde girl.”

  “Touching? What do you mean? Like he was feeling her up?”

  “No, he put his hand on her back.”

  Suzanne shook her head. “I’m lost. Have you been back here crying all day because you saw Mr. Parker put his hand on another girl’s back? Don’t you think that’s overreacting a bit?”

  I sniffed, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. “It’s the way he put his hand on her back. Down low like he used to do mine.”

  She slumped back. “Well, did you talk to him about it? Did you at least stop in and ask about Paris?”

  I rolled over and put my face in the pillow. “No. I saw Evan first.”

  “And yeah, right? Evan wins ‘most improved male student’ this year.”

  I shook my head, face still in the pillow. “I don’t know. He looked different I guess, but it was more what he said.”

  “Which was?”

  “That Nick does this every year. He picks up with some new ‘fresh-meat’ and then dates her until summer break. Just like he did with me.”

  Suzanne pressed her lips together. “You have to confront him.”

  “I don’t want to confront him. I want to die.”

  But my roommate was getting mad. She stood and started pacing our small apartment. “You have to go in and act like nothing happened and give him the chance to either say it was nothing or break up with you. You can’t just throw in the towel over a potential misunderstanding.”

  “You think i
t was a misunderstanding?” My voice rose a bit.

  “I think you need to find out.”

  Suzanne was right, although I knew in the pit of my stomach this was going to go badly. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls,” I said. “Don’t you think that means something?”

  “It might, or it might not. What if his phone’s not working?”

  “I never took you as an optimist.”

  “And I never took you as a quitter.”

  Aug. 30, 19--

  So here’s how it all went down, Journal. Today I left early again for class, and while he wrapped up his lecture, I slipped into Nick’s office before he saw me. As the students were leaving, I saw him talking to the blonde freshman again, but I decided to stay put and focus on Suzanne’s words. I was no quitter.

  Before long he walked through the door. When he saw me, he seemed to tense. “Alexandra! What a pleasant surprise.”

  “I didn’t mean to surprise you,” I said. “I tried to call a few times, but I guess you didn’t get my messages.”

  “Oh, I got them,” he smiled, stepping forward to kiss my head. “It’s just been so busy with classes starting and getting back into the swing of fall semester.”

  “How was Paris?” I asked.

  “What? Oh, Paris. Very French.” He laughed.

  “Is that good?”

  “That depends on how you feel about the French.”

  I wasn’t letting him off that easily. “And how do you feel about the French?”

  “It varies from day to day, but enough about me. How was your summer?”

  “Short, but long at the same time.” I studied his face. “I missed you.”

  He smiled, making his eyes go warm. “My sweet little painter. That’s kind of you to say.”

  I waited, and when it became clear he was finished speaking, I curled my toes and jumped in. “So when are we getting together again? I was hoping we could catch up.”

  He shook his head and walked around his desk, back to me. “I’m afraid my schedule is going to be so full this semester. I’m sure you understand. You’re probably just as busy, no?”

  I crossed my arms, determined to make him say it. “I can make time for you. I always have.”

  “Yes, well,” he turned to face me then, a sad little smile on his lips. “I guess what I’m saying is maybe it’s time for us to stop making time.”

  My jaw clenched. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” he dropped into his chair. “Oh, what do I mean? It was fun while it lasted? Let’s don’t make this hard, Alexandra. Just shake hands, and we’ll walk away.”

  I nodded. “So you’re breaking up with me.”

  He sighed, placing his hands behind his head. “That’s such an unkind way to put it. I prefer we’re bidding adieu.”

  “What if I don’t want to bid adieu,” I said. “What if I want us to be together?”

  He lowered his hands, breathing deeply. Then he leaned forward on his desk. “I was afraid of that. I knew this would happen after Christmas when I realized I was your first.” He chuckled, “and here I thought all you country girls were so experienced. Didn’t you have a boyfriend in high school with a Chevy?”

  My face grew hot. “You knew?”

  “Not initially, of course, but as it was happening, I could tell what was going on. I tried to be gentle, and I hope I gave you enough space after… to take care of yourself.”

  I felt ill. “You mean, you went to sleep on purpose?”

  He shrugged, “I really was telling the truth when I said grading midterms just wiped me out. I was tired! Besides, what could I have done? Those things are best handled on one’s own.”

  My body was vibrating with shame and anger and wanting to kill him. “I can’t believe this. Both nights?”

  He shrugged. “I figured that’s how long it would take. And I was right, wasn’t I? By our next meeting, you were all fixed up.”

  I stood quickly, turning to the door. “I’ve got to go.”

  “What? Have I offended you?” He dared to sound concerned. “Don’t be that way, Alexandra. We had a lot of good times after that.”

  “I think you’re right,” I said. “It’s time we said goodbye.”

  I grabbed my portfolio and dashed out of his office. Pushing my way through the bodies in the hall, all I could think of was how frightened I’d felt that night and how alone I’d been. And in his mind I was simply taking care of an annoying distraction.

  Tears were filling my eyes, and my breath was coming in short hiccups. I thought I loved him. I devoted myself to him all last year. Whenever he called, I dropped everything to run to his side, and now he was telling me I was just another dalliance. Another face in a long line of forgettable rejects.

  I didn’t want to cry for that scumbag as Evan had appropriately labeled him, but tears were streaking my cheeks as I climbed the stairs to our apartment. I had to leave Savannah. There was no way I could enter that classroom again. I couldn’t see his face or run into him in the halls without the shame burning a hole through my body. I would have to figure out another way to take the art world by storm. It wasn’t going to happen for me here.

  Just then the phone rang. For half a second, I thought it might be Nick. I thought maybe he’d remembered what we’d had and was calling to beg me to come back. He would tell me he was sorry, and he was changing his ways. I’d be the last freshman art student he’d introduce to the ways of the world and then unceremoniously dump.

  I hesitated for a moment before pressing the button to take the call. It was Meg, and she was crying, too. “Lexy! Oh, Lexy, I need you to come back right away.”

  “Meg?” I could feel myself pulling together. Involuntarily, my pain was surrendering to my concern for my friend. “What’s wrong? Has something happened to Will?”

  “No, it’s Daddy. He was at his office, and the nurse said she hadn’t seen him for a while. They were worried, and when they went to check on him, he was passed out. Nobody knew what was wrong, but they think he had a heart attack.” She sobbed hard into the phone. “Oh, Lexy. He’s dead.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Sept. 7, 19--

  Dr. Weaver’s sudden death surprised the entire community. There wasn’t a dry eye at the funeral. I was glad to have the excuse to cry. I was broken-hearted for Meg losing her dad so unexpectedly, but I was also reeling from my own loss.

  Losing a jerk like Nick Parker was admittedly insignificant compared to the loss of a doting parent, but it was still devastating to me. I’d trusted him. I’d told him all my dreams and my goals for the future and my art. I’d slept with him, given him my virginity. But he was just playing around, waiting for the next bright-eyed dreamer to enroll in his art class. I’d never felt so stupid in my life. God, I was so humiliated.

  I sat behind the family at the funeral, and I could feel Meg glance at me every few minutes. Being in the middle of all that raw emotion really brought it out in me, and the tears wouldn’t stop coming. After the service was over and we were back at her house, she took me aside to talk.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered. “You haven’t stopped crying all day, and I mean, I know you really liked Daddy, but you guys weren’t that close.”

  “Oh, Meg,” I sniffed. “I’m just so sorry for you, and for little Will… not getting to know his grandfather. It seems so unfair. And your mom looks like she’s really taking it hard. They were so close.”

  “Um-hm,” she blinked her red eyes. “What’s happened to you?”

  I couldn’t hide it anymore. I burst into tears. “I feel so ashamed and stupid. Nick completely humiliated me, and I don’t think I can go back to SCAD. It was so awful.”

  I could see my friend’s personal pain surrendering to her concern for me, just like mine had for her, and I wanted to curl into her arms and never leave.

  “What happened?” she said, smoothing my hair back from my face.

  I sniffed and quickly told her everythin
g that happened, from the unreturned phone calls to the pretty blonde in class to what Evan had said.

  “Did you give him a chance to explain?” she asked, unable to believe it.

  I nodded. “That’s the best part. I did, and he said last year was fun, but I was getting too attached. He said he was afraid that would happen, his being my first and all.”

  Everything in her face stilled. “He said that?”

  “Yes.” And the humiliation washed over me afresh.

  “Okay, I take it all back. That guy’s a complete jackass. I hate him.” I watched her jaw clench. “There’s got to be something we can do to get him back.”

  “Just forget it.” I shook my head. “But I’m seriously considering dropping out. The school is so small, and I’ll have to see him all the time.”

  She reached out and held both my hands. “I’m so sorry, Lex.”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said. “Here I am at your dad’s funeral, and all I can think about is myself. I’m the most selfish person.”

  “You’re not!” She threw her arms around me, and we hugged each other. “You had a horrible experience. That guy’s a monster. Of course you’re miserable.”

  We leaned back, still holding each other’s arms. “But you can’t quit school,” she said. “Then he wins! What if you… I don’t know, took a semester off or something? What do you think? Is there someone you could talk to about it?”

  I shrugged. “Maybe a counselor, but I couldn’t say why.”

  Meg rose and crossed the room, beautiful even in all-black. “Use Daddy as your excuse. Pretend he was like a father to you, and say you’re taking it so hard. I’ll back you up.”

  “Oh, Meg.” She came and hugged me again, and all I could think of were her old words. How it was so wonderful to be home with people who loved me.

  Sept. 10, 19--

  Wow. Reading back over that last entry, so much has changed! Everything, it seems. Let’s see… I’m living in Atlanta now. Yes—Atlanta! I know, that was fast.

  After the funeral, I did return to SCAD. Sure, I was humiliated and my heart was destroyed, but Meg was right. And I knew it. I wouldn’t let a loser like Nick Parker take away my dream. I was stronger than that, and I wasn’t quitting or running home.