“I guess I built myself up in my head. It’s refreshing to be brought down a notch.”
The pro fessor walked in, saving me from replying. Art history was a newfound interest of mine and I had the urge to drool as we went over the syllabus. We were concentrating on a broad spectrum of art works and I looked forward to studying the Renaissance, Baroque, and Rococo periods since they featured many of my favorite artists.
After the professor discussed several slides we’d be studying more in depth later in the semester , she flicked the lights on and announced the end of class. I looked over at Blake and saw him stretch lazily before climbing out of his chair.
I gave him a short wave after I gathered my books and began walking out of the classroom. “All right, I’ll see you on Thursday then.”
Instead of replying, Blake fell into step next to me , flashing a charismatic smile as he caught my eye. “Where are you headed?”
“Umm…” I trailed off. After pulling the straps of my backpack tighter, I said, “I don’t have class for another couple of hours, so I’ll probably get something to eat before going to the library.”
“Good, I’m starved. I’ll come with you,” he said and pushed open the building doors. Once outside on the walkway, I stopped in my tracks. Noticing I was no longer walking with him, he double backed and faced me. “What are you doing?”
“Blake, I wasn’t inviting you to eat with me.”
“Okay,” he said, stretching out the syllables slowly. “We’re both hungry, why wouldn’t we just grab something to eat together?”
My face flushed and I suddenly felt exposed. The way he said it made me feel foolish. Like going to eat with him was no big deal. He had no clue it was the closest I’d be en to a date since I was seventeen years old. At nineteen, I couldn’t even have breakfast with someone of the opposite sex without having an internal freak-out.
“I’m a little confused about your reasons for hanging out with me.” I swallowed roughly and looked past him at the other students walking around the campus. “I’m not interested in sleeping with you. I may be a freshman girl and maybe you think that means I’ll be an easy lay or something…”
His laugh was sudden and his expression open. He was a different Blake from the one I met at the party two nights earlier. He was handsome and charming and his reputation as a lady-killer seemed more believable. It was such a dramatic shift, it made me curious if I only imagined the hostility I sensed at the party.
“You don’t take much shit, do you? We’ve talked for a total of five minutes and you’ve already told me you have no clue who I am and accused me of thinking you were an easy lay.”
I felt ridiculous. I had gone to college to start a new life, reinvent myself, and hope the past stayed back in Newpine. It was a lofty goal with my newfound realization of the impossibility of it happening. My past was always there, waiting in the shadows, readying for the opportunity to jump out and unravel me completely.
“I didn’t mean to offend you, but look at it from my perspective. You were staring at me at the party in a not so nice way and a little rude when we spoke outside. Then you flip the switch, wanting to sit with me in class and have breakfast together.” I pulled my coat tighter as the wind picked up.
“Sorry.” He paused, the humor in his voice fading. “You reminded me of someone and it freaked me out,” he said. The sincerity of his tone convinced me he was being truthful. His eyes filled with hurt for a flash before he suppressed it. I wondered who in his past warranted such a reaction. Blake added, “Since we’re in the class together, I figure we could hang out. Study for the tests or go to the museum together.” As part of our final paper, we had to visit either the Philadelphia Museum of Art or the Metropolitan Museum of Art and pick a piece to write an essay on. I’d never visited an art