Beneath The Skin(103)

I frown. “You still have Dmitri. He’s got another year to go, if he keeps on track. And then Tomas too, right?”

She faces me suddenly. “Is it true that Brant’s dropping out?”

The question knocks me in the face. Not because I didn’t know, but because I didn’t realize Brant told anyone else. I thought we were keeping it a secret. “I, um … Who told you that?” I ask vaguely.

“Oh.” Sam’s a quick one. “Maybe it’s a secret. I don’t think Dmitri was supposed to tell me. I figured you’d know, since you—”

“I did.”

“Oh. Well, um … Dmitri tells me things. But he doesn’t always tell me not to tell others those things. I hate secrets.”

I smirk knowingly, then clutch my belly anxiously, curious about Brant’s whereabouts. Where the hell is he? I wonder, biting my lip.

“So how do you feel about that?”

I flinch, stirred from my thoughts. “About Brant dropping out?” Sam nods. “It’s his decision. I mean, you know him. Well, through Dessie and Clayton, somewhat. You know what he’s like.”

“Twenty different majors in four years. New girlfriend every week. No direction in life.”

Sam knows how to put it bluntly. “Well …”

“You basically saved his life.”

Now it’s my turn to blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Now he’s got all the things,” she answers simply. “He settled on one major. He has a direction in life now. And he’s got you.” Then Sam smiles. Or at least I think that’s what’s happening on her face. “Thank you for coming into his life, Nell. And by proxy, coming into mine. I wish I could’ve made art with you at some point.”

Unexpectedly, I find myself touched by Sam’s words. “Thank you, Sam.”

“I just stated facts, really. Nothing to thank me for.” She shrugs and glances off at the sunset again.

“You know, with you and Dmitri being such good friends, I think we’ll be seeing a lot of each other anyway. Brant’s still living there. I’m still in my place. Maybe you can come over sometime and we can … I don’t know … share inspirations or something. Maybe you can give that band next door to me a goddamned clue. Y’know, save some poorly abused instruments.”

“I have enough on my plate saving an abused one of my own,” she says sulkily, then her gaze drifts off to a particular someone standing by the grill—Tomas, who seems to be obsessed with poking at and flipping the burgers.

“He seems like a nice guy,” I encourage her with a smile.

“The nicest,” she groans. Then, with a minute shrug, she says, “Tell Brant congratulations on his decision. I think it takes a lot of bravery to cut ties with a school and leap into the artistic foray headlong. And if he suddenly decides yet again to change his career path, I can maybe give him a recommendation at the music school. I would peg him to be a cellist.” She offers me a muted smile, then makes her way across the grass toward Tomas, who greets her with a smile and seems to offer her a burger.

The rest of the yard teems with friends from the School of Theatre mostly, as the majority of the supporters here are for Dessie and Clayton. There’s a bunch of dancers here too, including a gorgeous black man named Avery who towers over everyone in a vibrant pink-and-yellow wig and says he’s an official member of the Brant fan club. I’m not sure what all that’s about, but he gasped with astonishment when he saw my work at the latest gallery showing a month ago and commented on its brilliance before even knowing it was mine, so he’s scored a few brownie points in my book.

Somewhere on the other side of the lawn, Minnie and a few of the others from the art school are gathered around a fire pit laughing about something and looking teary-eyed in their hilarity as they eat s’mores and make fun of each other when marshmallow hangs on their chins. Minnie and I didn’t speak again until somewhere around Valentine’s Day when we ran into each other at a “Lover’s Lament” showcase downtown. We’d ended up standing at the same exhibit, snarkily began providing our own critiques for it, and eventually made each other laugh. Then, unexpectedly, Minnie burst into tears, hugged me, and begged me to forgive her and to be her friend again. I clutched Minnie right there, said there was nothing to forgive, and apologized for being somewhat of an arrogant twat to her earlier. Then she invited me over to her big place for cheap booze and Netflix binging on her big fluffy couch, just like the old days, and everything was back to normal before we even reached the end of the first episode.