“Considering you’re on the front cover of The Wombat, I think you probably should.”
“Do you have that show catalog of Brandon’s?”
Kamiko pulled it off the bookcase on her desk and handed it to me.
I flipped through it. The first thing I noticed was that Kamiko’s new paintings would totally fit right in. “I don’t know, Kamiko. These are all really good. I can see you did a lot of research. I don’t know if I’ll have time to come up with something before the show.”
“You’ll think of something,” she smiled.
As much as I’d improved while studying art with the help of Christos, Spiridon, Kamiko, and all my art teachers, the paintings in the catalog were probably better than I could do at the moment, especially on short notice.
“You have tons of great ideas, Sam,” Kamiko said. “I bet you’ll come up with something awesome.”
Once again, I was super grateful that all of my San Diego friends were so supportive of me. Their confidence bolstered my own.
“You’re right,” I grinned confidently, “I will.”
===
Madison and I were studying in the Main Library in our favorite private study room on the fifth floor, which had the best view of the ocean.
My laptop was open and my email program chimed when a new email came in. It was from the SDU Registrar’s Office. Subject: A date has been set for your appeal.
I groaned.
“What?” Madison asked, looking up from her gigantic Marketing textbook.
Not only had the subject line of the email been a spoiler for the content of the message, it had also spoiled my mood. I clicked on it to get it over with.
The message read, “A date has been assigned for you to appear before the administrative tribunal of San Diego University to discuss the grievance(s) pending against you, at which time your standing as a student at SDU will be reviewed. In addition to the initial claim of theft leveled against you by Tiffany Kingston-Whitehouse (plaintiff), an additional charge of assault has been brought against you, Samantha Smith (defendant)…”
Tiffany and her stupid stolen credit card.
And my stupid slap.
I never should’ve smacked her.
According to the rest of the letter, Tiffany had gone to the SDU police to report my “attack” on her. At least the letter made it sound like my slapping her wasn’t a federal offense with the death penalty attached. But for a second, I imagined the cops showing up in their police cars with the red and blue lights flashing so they could cuff me and haul me to jail for committing Assault and Slappery.
Wow, I suddenly felt like my situation and Christos’ had been reversed. Or he was having a bad influence on me like my mom had warned. No, that was crazy because my cheating mom was crazy.
“Bad news?” Madison asked.
“Huh?”
“You look like you swallowed a poisoned pie.”
“Poisoned pie?”
“Like one of those blackbird pies with twenty four birds inside? You look like they’re flapping around in your belly right now, trying to get out,” she smirked.
“I’d rather have that than this,” I scowled.
“What is it?”
“My date for the Tiffany thing.”
“Oh,” Madison said morosely. She already knew the whole story. “I’ve told you before, give me the word, and I’ll cut a bitch.”
“Which bitch?” I snickered.
Her eyes went crazy, “Any bitch! Just give me the word!” She stood and waved her highlighter marker around like a knife. “Watch out bitches! I’m cuttin’ mad!” she shouted.
“Don’t you mean, Cuttin’ Mads?”
She sat down and giggled.
I joined her and we shared a good laugh.
As always, we sat in one of the glass walled private study rooms. I’m sure the kids studying outside who were glaring at us thought we were goofing off. Some of them probably wanted to use our study room so they could goof off.
Well, me and Mads had gotten here first.
A moment later, a random girl stood up from one of the study carrels outside and walked up to our door. She had imitation blonde hair and wore a Delta Pi Delta T shirt, which was Tiffany’s sorority.
Greatballs.
Sororiwhore opened the door to our study room and popped the gum in her mouth. She said, “Like, do you guys know when you’re going to be finished in here? Other people are wait—”
Madison jumped out of her chair, which clattered loudly behind her, and thrust her highlighter toward Sororiwhore, who was six feet away. “Stay back!” Madison hissed.
Sororiwhore flinched. Then she popped her gum and scowled, trying to play it off like she was above it all.
Madison lunged forward again, now two feet from the girl. “Back!”
I turned to Sororiwhore and said in a casual, bland voice, “Be careful what you say next. She’s Cuttin’ Mads and she’ll cut a bitch.”
Sororiwhore’s eyes goggled as she slowly withdrew from the doorframe.
The pneumatic door clicked shut gently.
Madison and I broke into laughter.
===
Later, Madison and I walked to our cars in the north parking lot.
“Oh my god, there’s Tiffany!” Madison pointed. “Let’s hide in the bushes and jump her!”
Tiffany was by herself and hadn’t noticed us coming toward her.
“Gag,” I groaned. “We should go the other way.”
“We have a right to walk here just like she does,” Madison growled.
“Yeah, but between Slappin’ Sam and Cuttin’ Mads,” I joked, “Tiffany is likely to get murdered.”
“I’ve got your back either way, girlfriend.” Madison fished her highlighter out of her book bag and waved it around like a knife.
“Thanks, Mads. But please sheathe your highlighter. I don’t want you drawing blood.”
“Okay,” Madison giggled and stuffed her pen in her bag as we neared Tiffany.
Tiffany’s lip curled when she saw us. “You’re still here? Shouldn’t you have gone back home to Washington by now?”
How did she know where I lived? Or was she talking about going home to see my parents because of the problems they were having? No, there was no way Tiffany could know that, was there? Unless Christos had told her? No, that was impossible.
Tiffany rolled her eyes as she passed us, “See you at the tribunal, bitch.”
“Hey!” Madison shouted.
I muttered a warning to Madison, “Keep your cap on your highlighter, I’ll handle this.” I stopped and turned to face Tiffany as she walked away. “Tiffany! Can I talk to you for a second?”
Tiffany stopped, turned, and cocked her hip. As always, she looked like the cover of a fashion magazine with her immaculate blond hair, flawless makeup, and expensive clothes. “Why? Are you going to attack me? If you are, do me a favor and let me know if I need to call the campus police before you hit me this time,” she said sarcastically.
I shook my head, “No, I’m not going to touch you.”
She raised an expectant eyebrow. “Well? I don’t have all day.”
“Look, about the credit card thing.”
Tiffany smiled merrily, “You mean the one you stole?”
“You know I didn’t steal it. You put it in my wallet.”
“I know no such thing,” Tiffany shook her head while wrinkling her nose petulantly. “But I do know it was in your wallet. Gosh, Scumantha, how did it get there?” she gasped sarcastically.
“Please don’t call me Scumantha,” I said softly. Was she trying to get me to hit her again?
I noticed Madison was snarling beside me.
“Did the credit card fairy take it out of my wallet and drop it into yours?” Tiffany sneered.
I rolled my eyes, frustrated. The “let’s talk this out” approach wasn’t working. “Tiffany, are you still mad about your yacht painting?”
Tiffany rolled her eyes back a
t me.
Since talking sense didn’t seem to be working, I was going to hit her where it hurt. I was tired of her bullshit. “Or are you still mad that I’m with Christos and you aren’t?”
Tiffany started gnawing on her lower lip like a rabid chipmunk.
Yeah, that had hurt her.
“Tiffany,” I said calmly, “nothing you do is going to break me and Christos apart. I’m not going back home to D.C. Even if you manage to get me kicked out of SDU, I’m here to stay. You need to accept that. So why don’t you save us both a bunch of trouble and let it go?” I sounded way more confident than I felt. The last thing I wanted was to get kicked out of SDU. I loved taking classes with Madison and Kamiko and Romeo. I loved my art professors. I couldn’t imagine giving all that up. It would break my heart to say goodbye to SDU. But I wasn’t backing down, I wasn’t letting Tiffany get away with framing me. “Tell the tribunal the truth. Tell them you put your credit card in my wallet. Oh, and I’m sorry for slapping you. I never should’ve done that.”
Tiffany’s face burned bright red. Words spat from her mouth, “FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH!!!!” She had to take another breath before she screamed again, “I’M GOING TO RUIN YOU, YOU FUCKING CUNT!!!”
===
A gigantic fiery phoenix burst from the clouds of a flaming sunset. Its long, trailing tail feathers blazed behind it like the train of a glowing gown as it swooped across the sky. The phoenix was part eagle, part woman.
That woman was me.
“That looks awesome, Sam!” Kamiko said, standing over my shoulder, looking at my rough sketch.
“You think it’ll work for Brandon’s show?” I asked. It was still just a small pen and ink drawing in my sketchbook colored with markers.
Romeo was sitting and doing homework at one of the work tables against the wall in Christos’ studio. He slid his chair out and walked over to take a look. “Wow,” he smiled, “I love it, Sam.”
I crinkled my nose. “Thanks.” I still wasn’t used to all the praise I’d been getting lately.
“Okay, now I have to take a look,” Christos said. He was sitting in a reclining desk chair with his feet propped on a window sill, sketching in his own sketchbook. He was trying to work up ideas for the rest of the paintings he needed to do for his upcoming solo show, which would be hosted at Charboneau sometime after the Contemporary Artists Show closed.
Christos rested a hand on my shoulder and leaned over me to get a better look.
Romeo blurted, “Red alert! Red alert! Boo-EEEP! Boo-EEEP! Christos is putting the moves on Sam! Abandon ship before Christos fires his torpedo into her!”
“Must everything come down to sex for you, Romeo?” I asked.
“Yes,” he grinned unapologetically.
Kamiko giggled. “Romeo, you are so wonky kong.”
“Wonky kong?” Romeo said, “I’ll show you wonky kong.” He started jumping frantically in the air. Every time he did, he said, “Boing!” His monocle danced chaotically at the end of the string attached to a button on his steampunk coat.
“What are you doing?” I laughed.
He continued jumping and started whooping, “Doodle lee DEE do! Doodle lee DEE do!”
Kamiko shook her head, amused. “I think he finally gave himself a stroke from trying too hard to be funny all the time.”
Romeo paused from his insane jumping routine, “Don’t you guys play video games? I’m Mario from Classic Donkey Kong!”
“Huh?” Kamiko said. Kamiko never played video games because she spent too much time watching cartoons, studying for all her insane pre-med classes, and drawing in every spare moment. I don’t know if she ever slept.
“Come on, Kamiko!” Romeo pleaded. “You’re the one who called me Donkey Kong!”
“I called you wonky kong,” she said.
Romeo stopped jumping and jammed his fists on his hips. “What the fuck is a wonky kong?”
Kamiko spread her hands and raised her eyebrows, “I don’t know,” she said defensively, “Donkey Kong’s crippled brother who has a gimp leg?”
Christos and I both chuckled.
“You’re crazy, Romeo,” I said.
He opened his eyes really wide and made them do circles while he waggled his tongue and made crazy noises. The Loco Locomotive was back.
Kamiko shook her head. “He’s truly an idiot. Somebody get the butterfly nets.”
“Hey, Romeo,” Christos said thoughtfully, “do that jumping thing again.”
“What, this?” Romeo asked as he started jumping up and down a few times.
“Yeah, that,” Christos said.
Romeo did it a few more times then stopped.
“Can you do it again, with the jumping noises?” Christos asked, totally serious.
Romeo frowned, “Uh, okay.” He did a half hearted jump and noise.
“No,” Christos said, “I meant like before. Try to really get into it.”
“Wait,” Romeo said shrewdly, “you’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
“No,” Christos said blandly, “I’m totally serious.”
Romeo looked confused.
I had no idea what Christos was doing, nor did Kamiko. I said, “It’s okay, Romeo. You don’t have to do it.”
Romeo dropped his arms to his sides and looked at us.
“No, please,” Christos said sincerely. “I want to see something.” He sounded totally serious, but not in a mean way.
Romeo shrugged his shoulders. “Okay, but I need a second to prepare. I’m an actor, after all.”
Kamiko looked doubtful.
“Hush, Kamiko,” he said before she opened her mouth. “I’ve taken acting classes. College acting classes.” Romeo shook his shoulders, rolled his neck and stuck his tongue out a bunch of times while humming. Then, he started jumping again, more enthusiastically and spastically than before. “DOODLE LEE DEE DO!!! DOODLE LEE DEE DO!!!” He stopped after a few. “Like that?”
Christos shook his head. “No, now you’re forcing it. Like before. When it was spontaneous.”
“What are you doing, Christos?” I asked.
“Trust me,” he said cryptically. “Go ahead, Romeo.”
“Okay,” Romeo said. He calmed down and closed his eyes. “Kamiko, make fun of me. Say something judgmental, like you normally would.” Even though his eyes were closed, he was grinning, not taking himself seriously.
“Uh…” she stammered and chuckled. “Your monocle is out of style?”
“That’s perfect,” Romeo said, “I think I’ve got it.” He started to smile a big, natural smile. He nodded, “Yeah, that’s it.” His smile was huge now. He opened his eyes and started jumping, “Doodle lee DEE do! Doodle lee DEE do! Doodle lee DEE do!” He had a huge grin on his face the whole time.
Christos nodded, rapt, smiling his dimpled smile, that mysterious, fascinated look still on his face.
Pretty soon, me and Kamiko were giggling, then we were laughing.
“Okay,” Romeo huffed after the nineteenth time, “I’m getting out of breath now.”
“You can stop,” Christos grinned.
Romeo sagged into the nearest chair. “Whoo! That was a lot of work! Did my unabashed athleticism bring your idea to completion?”
Christos said sarcastically, “I’m totally turned on right now.”
After a moment, Romeo looked at the three of us expectantly, “Hey, aren’t any of you going to stuff some dollar bills in my G string now? That was hard work!”
“Are you even wearing a G string?” Kamiko asked doubtfully.
He hooded his eyelids and asked, “Would you be surprised if I was?”
“I would be surprised if you weren’t,” I laughed.
Kamiko and Christos both erupted into cackles.
“I want my dollar bills!” Romeo whined. “That’s the last free show you guys are getting. Sex workers never get any respect,” he chuckled.
“That was sex work?” Kamiko frowned skeptically. “I think my eyes are bleeding fr
om watching you dance. Or whatever that was.”
Romeo grimaced at Kamiko. “Admit it, Kamiko, you’re totally jealous of my milkshake.” Romeo turned around, lifted the tail of his steampunk coat, and thrust his ass at us while resting his hands on his thighs and jiggling his butt up and down.
“That deserves a dollar,” Christos chuckled and pulled out his wallet. He walked up to Romeo and jammed the bill in the belt of Romeo’s black skinny leg jeans.
Kamiko fished a dollar out of her purse, and I grabbed one from mine. We both laughed as we put them in Romeo’s belt. He was smiling the whole time.
Romeo finally stopped dancing. “A good milkshake always gets paid,” he said suggestively.
The four of us laughed together. My friends and my boyfriend all rocked fifty-five gallon drums of awesome sauce.
===
CHRISTOS
“Aren’t you getting bored of staring at yourself naked?” Samantha asked.
I stood naked in front of the big full length wheeled mirror in our painting studio with a palette covered in oils resting on my forearm.
I was working on the portrait of me that was half of our dual portrait entitled LOVE. The image of Samantha was already finished, and it looked fantastic.
Samantha stood beside me, fully clothed and wearing a painting apron.
I smirked at her, gazing into her eyes, “I never get bored of staring at perfection.”
“Did you mean me?” She batted her eyelashes.
I flicked my eyes at the mirror, “I meant me.” I turned to face the mirror square on and flexed my abs. All eight of them popped, as did the fingers of my external obliques. I was as ripped as ever.
“Your ego is so big,” Samantha joked, “I’m surprised everything in the solar system isn’t sucked right into it.”
I chuckled while I padded up to the canvas in my bare feet, and applied some freshly mixed color to the canvas. “How’s your phoenix painting coming along?”
Samantha had been working on it like crazy ever since she’d finished the sketch and showed it to us over a week ago. It sat on her easel in her corner of the studio. Based on my advice, she’d decided to do it in oils to give it the widest range of contrast from light to dark, and the most vibrant colors possible.
“Good,” she smiled. “It’s way more work than I expected, but I’ve got a handle on it.”
Painless (The Story of Samantha Smith #3) Page 41
