The Art of Life (16 page)

               
“Yeah,
be careful.
 
I fell down them once and am
lucky that I didn’t break my neck.”
 
When
we reach the top, Jeremy stops and turns around.
 
“My apartment is a mess.
 
So don’t be surprised.
 
Just don’t
worry,
I
am clean but a bachelor.”
       
    

               
I
snort, “Okay.”
 
He opens the door and I
follow him in.
 
“I should worry about
coming into your apartment at night…..alone.”

               
“If
you are nervous, we can leave.”

               
“No!”
I exclaim.
 
“I am fine.
 
I was just commenting.”
 
Jeremy nods his head and turns on more
lights.
 
My eyes scan the apartment.
 
Most of it is open.
 
The kitchen leads into the dining room and
living room.
 
There is a small hallway
with three doors.
 
The furniture is
surprisingly very new.
 
He has a flat
screen TV on the wall and stereo system.
 
Okay, Jeremy must rob banks….a lot of banks.
 
“Nice place,” I say slowly.

               
Jeremy
walks into the kitchen.
 
“Do you want
something to drink?”

               
“Sure,”
I reply.
 
I continue to look around.
 
There is stuff piled everywhere.
 
Nothing is really dirty.
 
It just looks like he sets everything down
wherever he is.
  
“I am really going to
need your help cleaning this place.
 
I
wouldn’t know where to go with your stuff.”

               
Shutting
the refrigerator door, Jeremy sighs, “Yeah, it’s going to be a team effort sort
of thing.
 
I think once I get organized,
it will help.
 
I sort of moved in,
unpacked and just left it there.”

               
“I
see that,” I retort.
 
Jeremy walks over
and hands me
a bottled
water.
 
“So, what do you want me to draw?”

               
“This,” Jeremy replies, as he points to the kitchen table.
 
On top of it is a vase of lilies.

               
Narrowing
my eyes, I open my mouth and then shut it.
 
“Did a girl send them to you?”

               
“No,”
Jeremy states.
 
“I always have them
around.”
 
He quickly adds on, “I won’t
get into why.
 
I know it’s not a manly
thing, but they are a…..security for me.
 
If you tell anyone that, I will deny it.”

               
“They
are wonderful,” I say, going over to smell them.
 
“What kind of lily are they?”

               
Jeremy
pulls out a chair and sits down.
 
“Stargazer
liies
, they are beautiful.
 
All lilies are beautiful, but these are
special.”

               
“Why?”
I ask.
 
Then I quickly go, “Never mind.
 
So, you want me to draw these?
 
Like do you want them in the vase or just the
lily or what?”

               
There
is a pause as Jeremy stares at the flowers.
 
“I just want two of the flowers.
 
I don’t care what you do to the rest of it.
 
I mean I don’t want a unicorn in the
background, but I trust your taste.
 
I
saw enough soul in your art.
 
These
flowers mean a lot to me.
 
If it is done
right, it will be pay back enough for everything.”

               
“I
will look a picture up on the internet and get going tomorrow.”

               
“No,”
he quickly interjects.
 
“I will drive you
to get the supplies tomorrow and you can draw these.
 
They are fresh from yesterday.”

               
“You
bought them with my flowers?” I ask.

               
He
nods.
 
“This means a lot to me.”

               
“What
you did for me means a lot, too.
 
We can
make each other happy then.
 
I already
have the pencils and everything that I need.
 
All I need is the paper and matting.
 
We can get that tomorrow.
 
You
will have to deal with me for one more day.”

               
“Do
you just want to stay over?” Jeremy asks.

               
I
gasp, “You want me to what?”

               
“Stay
over,” he repeats.

               
“Like….in
your bed?” I ask very slowly.

               
Chuckling,
Jeremy replies, “Well, I would sleep on the couch and you in my bed.
 
I guess it’s a dumb question, not very proper
of me.
 
Your mom would probably flip.”

               
“My
mom wouldn’t even notice, but I have not stayed anywhere but home since I was a
kid.
 
I think staying at a guy’s house,
even if he is a friend, is a big step for me.
 
Plus, it probably is a little improper.”

               
“I
would never touch you,” Jeremy states quickly.
 
My mouth drops open and he thrusts his hands out.
 
“Don’t take that the wrong way. I don’t mean
it as a slam!
 
I am just saying you are
safe with me.”

               
Trying
really hard not to laugh, I say, “I know I am safe with you.
 
I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.
 
I would stay over but I am not quite there
yet.
 
Sonya probably would be all on top
of that and probably you.”

               
“She
isn’t my type,” Jeremy responds.
 
“You
can tell that she has issues about five miles away.
 
A girl like her needs to be taken down a few
notches.
 
Truthfully, her baggage must be
pretty big if it makes her lash out on the weak.”

               
“I
am not weak!” I snap.
 
Then I think about
it.
 
“Okay, I am, but still.
 
The more you hang out with me, the more you
make me believe in myself, and the stronger I get.
 
Maybe one day, I won’t let what Sonya says
and does get to me.”

               
Jeremy
nods his head.
 
“When that day happens,
she will lose her power over you and that’s what you need.
 
She won’t be able to push you around anymore
and will move on, sadly, to someone else.”

               
“I
wish I could get her to stop it completely.
 
I don’t want her to move onto a weaker victim.”

               
“Hopefully,
I will be able to come up with something that will make her think twice about
lashing out at people.
 
I don’t mean I am
going to beat her up, but maybe outwit her.”

               
“Sounds good to me.”
 
With a deep breath, I yawn.
 
“I
think I should go home now.
 
The art
store is only open from 9 to 1 tomorrow.
 
So, it is up to you when we go.”

               
“How
about I pick you up at 9:30 and we go to breakfast.
 
After that we go to the art store?” Jeremy
suggests.

               
That
makes me smile.
 
“I have a better idea,
why don’t you pick me up, we can stop at the grocery store and we can buy stuff
to make breakfast.
 
Making breakfast is
my thing, real hash browns and killer omelets, plus whatever you want as a
side.”

               
“A
real home cooked breakfast, I would die for that.”

               
“Then
that’s the plan.
 
You need to at least do
your dishes tonight.
 
I need some space
to cook,” I mention, pointing to his kitchen.

               
Saluting
me, Jeremy says, “I can do that.
 
The
dishes shall be done.”

               
“Okay,
I want to go home and go to sleep now,” I yawn.

               
Jeremy
walks over and grabs my hand.
 
“Let’s get
you home then.”

               
When
we pull up to my house, I turn and look at him.
 
“Thank you so much for today.
 
You
have no idea what it meant for me.”

               
“I
am happy when I can make you smile.” Jeremy leans forward and kisses me on the
cheek.
 
“Good night toots, sleep tight.”

               
The
touch of his lips on my cheek makes me stutter for a minute.
 
“I will.
 
You too, okay?”

               
“Definitely,”
Jeremy replies.
 
“I will see you in the
morning.”

               
“Okay,”
I say, as I climb out of the car.
 
As I
shut the door, I say, “Bye.”
 
Jeremy just
smiles at me through the window.
 
I wave,
as he drives away.
 
I quickly put my hand
to my cheek.
 
I know it didn’t mean
anything, but that was the closest thing to a kiss that I have had.

               
With
a skip in my step, I go in the house.

               
“Let
me carry something,” I say, as Jeremy climbs the stairs to his apartment.

               
“No,”
he retorts.
 
“You are carrying the art
supplies.”

               
Gesturing
my hand, I snap, “That is one light bag.
 
You are carrying three grocery bags!”

               
“Oh
please, this is nothing.”
 
When we
finally get to the top, Jeremy turns to me.
 
“Grab my keys out of my pocket.”
 
I just raise an eyebrow.
 
“Really?”
He groans.
 

I open my mouth and, “That
is way too personal for me,” comes out.
 
Wincing, I can’t believe I just said that.

               
With
a roll of his eyes, Jeremy sets the groceries down.
 
“It’s my pocket, not the top of my pants.”

               
Now
I am mortified.
 
“Sorry,” I mumble.
 
“I have never really been around a guy.
 
You are the first guy that I have really had
a lot of contact with.”

               
“What
a great specimen of a man for you to have contact with,” Jeremy laughs as he
opens the door.

               
“Wow,
full of yourself much?” I ask, snagging a grocery bag.
 
I push past him.
 
“Hey, you did not clean your kitchen!”

               
Slamming
the door behind us, Jeremy exclaims, “I did the dishes like you asked!”

               
Guys.
 
“Yeah, but your
counters are still full of stuff!”

               
“
Whatever,
then help me clear it, miss picky pants.”

               
My
head hangs down.
 
“Please, do not call me
names.
 
I have dealt with that enough in
my life.”

               
“Seriously?
 
Miss picky pants is
me teasing you?” Jeremy inquires with a
very sarcastic tone.
 
“Well, per our
friend creed, I am allowed to pick on you ISABELLE.”

               
“I
need to come up with a stupid nickname for you,” I snap playfully.
 
“I am not very creative that way though.”

               
Jeremy
places his two bags on the floor of the kitchen.
 
“I know what you need to call me.”

               
“What’s
that?” I ask, setting my bag down next to the others.

               
“Stud.”
               
A groan escapes me.
 
“I am not calling you stud, or anything else
like that.”

               
“Why not?”
Jeremy laughs.
 
“If the name fits?”

               
“Jeremy,
you are ridiculous.
 
If you want someone
to call you that, call one of your girlfriends.”

               
He
opens the refrigerator.
 
“Yeah, but the
question is, which one?
 
There are so
many.”

               
Choosing
to ignore him, I start to move his mail from the counter.
 
I see a few envelopes written in
calligraphy.
 
They are all from the same
return address.
 
I pick one up.
 
“Are you going to open these?
 
There are like five of them.”

               
Jeremy
snatches them from my hands.
 
“You know
it’s illegal to read someone else’s mail.”

               
“Not
the outside of the envelope!”
 
He shoves
them in a drawer and slams it shut.
 
Turning to put bottles in the recycling, I whisper, “Sorry.”

               
“Its
fine,” he sighs.
 
“I just don’t open
certain mail.”

               
“A longing ex lover?”

               
That
makes him chuckle.
 
Jeremy grins and
says, “That’s a different pile and way more than one sender.”
 
I just shake my head in disbelief.
 

               
After
we are done clearing off the counters, I start to prepare breakfast.
 
Jeremy just leans against the counter next to
me.
 
“So, how did you learn to cook if
all your mom does is drink?”

               
“Lots
and lots of trial and error, I had to learn to do it myself at a young
age.
 
I have a whole bunch of scars from
burns.
 
First aid kits come with
instructions.”

               
“You
had the most horrendous childhood didn’t you?” Jeremy gently asks.

               
Biting
my lip, I shrug.
 
“I was lonely, but
didn’t know any better, so I found what made me happy, which was art.”

               
“You
will no longer be lonely.
 
I promise you
that.”

               
My
mouth twitches up into a smirk.
 
“That’s
nice of you to say.”

               
“It’s
the truth,” Jeremy retorts.
 
“No, no,
no!
 
No mushrooms in mine!
 
Nasty!”

               
“They
are good,” I reply.

               
Jeremy
makes a gagging face.
 
“Don’t make me
throw up!”

               
“Fine,
I won’t even let them touch any part of your food.”

               
Crossing
his arm, he says, “Good.
 
So, tell me
when did you start crushing on Eric?”

               
“Eighth
grade,” I reply.

               
“I
thought you only knew him in high school.”

               
I
shake my head.
 
“He moved here in the 8
^th
grade.
 
I never talked to him and I doubt
he knew I existed.
 
Then came freshman
year and our lockers were next to each other.
 
He still barely acknowledged I existed.
 
It seems as though having a good looking guy interested in me has
finally grabbed his attention.”

               
“That
makes him a jerk you know,” Jeremy quietly declares.

               
There
is silence as I cook.
 
“I guess,” I
finally say.
 
“I wouldn’t have noticed me
either though.
 
I really tried to stay
off the radar, except Sonya wouldn’t really let me do that.”

               
“Why
does she have it out for you?”

               
Snorting,
I sigh.
 
“Well, when we were in the
seventh grade, I was at the little drug store downtown.
 
Sonya was there with some friends and they
decided to steal something.
 
Well, the
pharmacist grabbed me and demanded me to tell him which one stole
something.
 
He very well couldn’t search
them.
 
So, I told the truth.
 
I told him Sonya stole it.
 
The police were called and blah, blah,
blah.
 
She has hated me since.”

               
“A
criminal, you would never have guessed.
 
I mean a pain the butt or horribly mean, sure, but a thief, I wouldn’t
have thought so,” Jeremy says, popping a piece of green pepper in his mouth.

               
“I
don’t think she is a career criminal because she stole some lip stick when she
was in middle school,” I retort.

               
With
a shrug, Jeremy says, “She just has issues.
 
Somewhere there is a skeleton in her closet that she is desperately
trying to hide.
 
That is why people like
her are mean.
 
Somewhere they have
insecurities of their own and they lash out at the things that remind them of
those insecurities.”

               
I
toss the rest of the ingredients into the pan.
 
“You sure seem wise for someone who is only 21.”

               
“A
lot can happen in 21 years,” Jeremy whispers, as he moves away.

               
His
past looms over us again.
 
My eyes look
over at him.
 
He has his back to me and
is turning his stereo on.
 
He seems so
distant.
 
What is he hiding?
 
I am so curious.
 
I mean, there is something there.
 
I just don’t know what.
 
Those letters are important but he refuses to
read them.
 
Is it from a girl; if so, I
wonder how important she was if he is hiding from it.
 
That makes me feel a little perturbed, almost
annoyed.
 
Stop it Isabelle!
 
What is wrong with you!?
 
I quickly shake my head and concentrate on
cooking.

               
Getting
lost in my own little world, I just listen to the music.
 
As Jeremy’s omelet is almost done, I suddenly
feel his hands wrap around my waist, pulling me against him.
 
My chest tightens and my heart drops.
 
He rests his chin on my shoulder and says,
“It smells good.”

               
“Thanks,”
I squeak, totally terrified.
 
No guy has
ever touched me this way!

               
Jeremy
loosens his grip a little bit.
 
“Am I
making you nervous?”

               
“No,”
I say way too quickly.
 

               
He
lets go and backs up.
 
“A guy has never
really touched you before huh?”

               
Turning
around I look at him.
 
“I have never had
an experience with a guy before.
 
You are
it!
 
I mean, people joke about being a
virgin at my age but I have never even kissed a guy!”

               
“You’ve
never been kissed?”

               
“Of
course not,” I slightly snap.
 
“What guy
would I have kissed?”

               
Jeremy
shrugs.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Well then, maybe Eric will kiss you.”

               
“Yeah,
that would be great, but I would act like an idiot.
 
A first kiss at 15 is sweet, not so much at
18.
 
That is just sad.”

               
“I
don’t think that is sad.”

I roll my eyes.
 
“Of course you don’t, you have probably
kissed a million girls.
 
That’s a lot of
experience under your belt.”

“Well then, let me help you
out,” he replies as he steps forward.
 
In
an instant his lips are on mine.

               
Everything
in me stops.
 
My hand actually lets go of
the spatula and it hits the floor.
 
His
kiss is soft and gentle, not that I have a lot of experience in this.
  
It actually makes my nerves tingle.
 
Now I know what everyone is talking
about.
 
When he pulls away, my eyes stay
closed.

               
“There,
now you have experience.”

               
The
only reply I can come up with is, “Huh?”

               
“I
am glad I could take your breath away,” Jeremy lightly chuckles.

               
Opening
my eyes, I just look at him.
 
“Why did
you do that?”

               
He
answers, “Because you deserve to be kissed and now you don’t have to be so
shy.”

               
“Okay,”
I breathe out.
 
Jeremy bends over and
picks up the spatula.
 
Throwing it into
the sink, he brushes against me.
 
I savor
the touch.
 
Then I snap out of it.
 
What are you doing Isabelle!?
 
“Thanks for that,” I say.
 
“Now, I know what it feels like.
 
You didn’t have to kiss me you know.”