by Danica Avet
There’s a little murmur, but I barely hear it over my thumping heart. I feel my friends closing rank around me, their support silent. Yet I can’t look away from Levi’s loving face. My stomach quivers with fear as I wait for it to happen.
“Without further ado, artists, please unveil your creations!”
Turning, I see Josef pull the cloth covering his painting away and my breath catches.
Levi
I’ll admit, if only to myself, that I’m nervous as all fuck. We’re putting a lot of faith in Terrible, although after talking with Princess and Torrent, we also came up with a contingency plan that involves an ‘accident’ happening to the painting if it actually comes to that. In fact, as I turn to see whether Terrible fulfilled his end of the bargain, I see Princess standing right next to Josef.
But that takes a backseat to the motherfucker’s canvas. He’s looking right at my girl, a triumphant, spiteful smile on his face because he’s certain he got his vengeance. He hasn’t even looked at his painting. If he had, he’d have seen that the ugly, offensive piece of “art” had been replaced with a solid black canvas with only a single, innocuous square in the center. There’s writing on the white, bold letters that can be read from a distance.
Insert derivative artwork here.
Jolene stumbles into me and I hold her up, taking all of her weight. I check to make sure she hasn’t fainted, which she hasn’t, but she also can’t take her eyes off the picture. Neither can I, to be honest. The relief coursing through me has my heart pounding with triumph, with happiness. Because Terrible came through.
As though my thought conjured him, he appears out of the crowd wearing a shirt marking him as a volunteer. He’s walking casually, as though merely going from one point in the room to the other, except as he passes in front of us, he looks at Jolene. And gives her a single nod of his head before he disappears from sight.
“That’s the volunteer who misplaced the painting,” Mallory says quietly. “But he found it apparently. From the way the artist spoke of it, I expected something a little more lurid, although it’s very insightful despite the simplicity of it.”
She’s still talking, although it’s shit I don’t care about. Kissing the crown of Jolene’s golden head, I turn my gaze back to Josef who finally—finally—takes a proud glance at his painting. Even from here, I see the way his entire body stiffens, his flushed cheeks draining of color, and his mouth gapes as he takes in the new artwork.
People clamor around him, talking excitedly, but he can’t take his eyes off of the canvas. He doesn’t look so arrogant now. In fact, he shakes his head.
“No, this is not right,” he says in that fake fucking accent, his hands waving. “This is not—”
“It is quite riveting,” Torrent says loudly, drowning out Josef’s protests. “I’m in awe, Josef.”
Good man. Distraction is the key to keep the idiot from figuring out just how his painting was switched.
“I think this calls for a celebration.” The announcement comes from Princess, who must’ve worked his way around the crowd. The grin on his face is mischievous and gleeful. “Who wants to get a few drinks?”
“Thank fuck,” Cube breathes. “I thought we were gonna be stuck here all night.”
They all start making plans on where they want to go, but I have more important things to do. Wrapping both arms around my girl, I look into her relieved blue eyes. The stress lines that have formed around her mouth and on her forehead have eased. She’s been holding it together, keeping a smile on her face as much as she could, but I’ve seen the worry in her eyes, felt the restlessness of her sleep.
“It’s over,” she whispers, her lips trembling with a tentative smile.
It isn’t. Not entirely, but she doesn’t need to know that. My own revenge will come about next week and Torrent is planning to record it for me to watch later.
“It’s over,” I lie, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go grab a drink with our friends.” Her smile widens. “Then I’m takin’ you home, strippin’ that outfit off of you, and I’m gonna fuck you blind.”
Her cheeks flame with color, but the heat in her eyes tells me she’s on board with my plans.
Jolene
The following week
“Swear to God, you two had better not have sex on my bed again,” Kimber mutters under her breath as we trudge up the walk to Levi’s house.
I roll my eyes. “We didn’t have sex on your bed. I told you that.”
“Yeah? Then why did I find your fuckin’ panties on it?”
I feel my face igniting with the heat of my blush. The incident in question happened just yesterday. Levi came with me to get some books I forgot in my room. Somehow the one I needed ended up kicked under my bed, which meant I had to get on my hands and knees. Apparently the position was too much for my boyfriend to handle because next thing I knew, I ended up with my clothes ripped off—my panties shredded and thrown onto Kimber’s bed—and taken from behind.
The orgasms, because there were two of them, were cataclysmic. To the point that I could barely concentrate on my class and couldn’t even look at him at Jazz Ensemble rehearsal last night.
“They were...just tossed in that direction. I swear we did not even touch your bed,” I mumble and pick up my pace.
Tonight’s the first round of the NFL Draft and we’re all heading to Levi’s place to watch. Cube and his mom flew to Pittsburgh to join Tight for the picks. It’s kind of exciting to realize I know a professional athlete. Not that Tight ever acts like one. He’s just like Cube and Levi: laid back, relaxed, and casual. But this is still one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.
Well, except the Great Art Heist that took place last week.
God. Terrible actually did it! I don’t know how, but from what we learned through Princess, he switched the paintings during the transfer from the locked room to the gallery. I’m not sure what exactly happened to Josef’s original painting, although the day after I received a text message from that unknown number—Terrible’s number—with a photo of a great big canvas on fire.
It’s over. I haven’t seen Josef since the night of the expo, but my Fine Arts Appreciation teacher couldn’t seem to contain herself after viewing the artwork. His was one of the ones she gushed over for at least fifteen minutes. Go figure. And he hasn’t come out and told anyone that the work wasn’t his. As far as I know, he’s resting on his laurels, proud as punch to get all the attention he’s always wanted. But while that might sting, the relief I feel over the switch eclipses it entirely.
“Fine,” Kimber says shortly, bringing me back to the here and now. And the excitement of watching Tight’s draft. Although I don’t know if Levi is forcing himself to feel happy for his friend, or is truly pleased because he barely talks about Tight at all. “Why am I here again?”
We climb the short steps to Levi’s front porch. “Because you’re going to make friends and to do that, you need to meet people.”
I glance over to see her lip curling.
“You can’t stay in that DJ booth forever,” I tell her gently.
Did I mention I finally found out where angry girls like Kimber go? Apparently they become DJs for the college radio station. I hadn’t even known we had a radio station, but it came up during a conversation and I’ve been listening to her ever since. Of course she plays a lot of angry, snarling music that doesn’t appeal to me, but I have to admit she’s got a fantastic voice and she’s very knowledgeable about her genres.
“I like the booth,” she mutters, but doesn’t make a run for it when I knock on the door.
I count that as a win. I will get her socialized if it’s the last thing I do.
The door swings open and Levi’s new roommate stands in the entry. He’s handsome. Lean, blond, with bright green eyes, he kind of reminds me of Ryan Gosling. And he’s German. Which kind of reminds me of Josef, except he’s a nice guy. A little stiff, but he’s always smiling and calm as though n
othing shakes him.
“Jolene, guten tag,” he says with a bright smile.
“Hi, Torrent,” I murmur. “This is Kimber Mosch, my roommate.”
He beams a smile that dazzles even me, but seems to have no impact on my grouchy new friend. “We are all about to watch a short...video before the draft,” he says without commenting on Kimber’s glaring silence. “Come in, come in.”
I no sooner step into the house, which looks to be filled with all of our friends, than Levi’s right there to scoop me into a tight hug. The instant his lips touch mine, I forget about everyone and sink into the kiss. You’d think we did it enough that it would become old, but I find that I love his kisses more and more, as though I’ll never get enough.
“God, please,” Kimber mutters loudly.
“I know, right? They’re like a couple of fuckin’ suckerfish. You know the ones that you see stuck to the glass of an aquarium?” Becca butts in. “Or like Lena and Root.”
“Hey,” Lena says on a laugh. “We’re not that bad.”
“Girl, Root could find your tonsils by touch alone.”
I laugh, pulling out of Levi’s kiss. Although I can’t resist brushing my lips against his. “Hi,” I whisper.
His eyes are alight with laughter and desire, but there’s something else there. Something that says he has a secret he can’t wait to share with me.
“C’mon, Crash, we gotta watch this clip before the draft starts,” Princess calls out from deeper in the house.
Levi finally lets me go, but only long enough to snag my hand. “Let’s go get comfy.”
But I pull against his hold. “I gotta tell everyone hi and get Kimber settled,” I protest, except Becca’s already gone and so is Kimber. “Where’d they go?” I ask Nessie who’s loitering in the foyer.
She shrugs with a grin. “When Crash gets that kung-fu grip on you, we all know to scatter. No one really wants to bear witness to y’all gettin’ nasty.”
Levi laughs loudly, throwing his arm over my shoulders. I, on the other hand, want to sink into the floor. God, are we really that bad?
Nessie smiles softly. “It’s okay. We’re all happy for you.”
My man kisses my temple. “C’mon, let’s grab some seats. I got somethin’ to show you.”
I share a puzzled look with Nessie who looks clueless. “They’ve all been giddy like kids on Christmas, but they won’t tell us why.”
They’re probably just really excited for Tight. We enter the living room to see nearly everyone already seated, although they’d saved a very small spot for me and Levi. If I sit on his lap. Which is exactly what happens when he collapses on the sofa.
I glance around. Lena and Root. Becca, Nessie, and Kimber. Torrent, Savage, and… Princess? I frown at him, but he just grins at me like the charming devil he is. Then I realize I’m being rude.
“I didn’t know you were close to Tight,” I say with a smile so he knows I’m not offended that he’s here.
He shrugs. “I’m not. I’m just here for the girls and the entertainment.”
“Go ahead, Torrent,” Levi says before I can ask Princess anything else.
The German fiddles with something and then we see the screen of his phone on the television. He clicks on his picture gallery, then chooses videos. Pulling up the one he wants, he presses play.
A title screen appears with the words, “Revenge of the Band Nerds. And a German Artist.”
“Wha—” I ask when I see my Fine Arts Appreciation professor standing at the front of a studio filled with people.
“Shh,” Levi whispers in my ear, his breath making me shiver. “You wanna see this, baby.”
Shooting him a frown, I turn to watch the screen.
“And the winner of this year’s Austin Dubois Art Competition is... Josef Dunai!”
“No fuckin’ way, he won?” Root asks the question, his deep voice incredulous.
Princess nods. “Fucked up, huh? Didn’t even tell anyone it wasn’t the right painting. Just took credit for it.”
“Ja, der spinnt,” Torrent says under his breath. We all turn to look at him in question and he blushes. “Sorry. He is crazy, Josef is.”
“Ahh.”
Everyone applauds, although not as excitedly as you would think. Josef pops up from his seat and struts to the front of the room to join the instructor.
“As everyone knows, the winner will be offered the chance to display their work at Pascal Studios in New York City as well as begin tonight’s demonstration on techniques. Josef will lead us off with a watercolor.” She smiles at Josef. “The floor is yours.”
She fades to the side and Josef stands there looking as proud as a peacock. “Thank you, Dr. Bordelon. Thank you, judges. I am pleased to receive such a prestigious award and to be in such talented company,” he says with a bow toward the other students.
My lip curls. Ugh. I dated this guy?
“For my work entitled ‘Derivative’—
“Are you fucking kidding with this?” Becca demands, sounding angrier than she did last week at the show. “What a douche-canoe.”
“Wait, it gets better,” Princess says, almost bouncing in his chair and earning a dark, almost wary look from Kimber who’s sitting next to him.
Josef moves to another spot in the room where a massive television screen is in place. An easel, canvas, and paint palette are nearby. “Dr. Bordelon allowed me to choose a selection of watercolors I have painted throughout my career. As they show on the screen, I will demonstrate the techniques I used to achieve the brush strokes and depth of color.”
The screen flickers to life and on it is a painting of a lily. He picks up his brushes and the palette. “I have my canvases shipped from my hometown in Hungary,” he says, accent thickening. “They are already gessoed so that when I am struck by my muse, I merely need to paint.”
He dabs the brush on the palette and lifts it to the canvas. Except something strange happens. The red paint beads up and trickles down the material. The screen changes to another watercolor he did. This one of a city landscape with decrepit buildings.
But Josef is staring at the puddle of red paint on the floor. “Excuse me,” he says stiffly. “It seems too much water was added to the mix. I will try a different color.”
The screen changes again, this time to a portrait of a girl. He cleans his brush and dips it to the palette once more. Again, when he tries to apply it, the paint beads up and rolls off the canvas.
People begin muttering quietly and the tips of Josef’s ears turn red as he tries again and again to put paint to canvas, his impatience and frustration evident in the stiffening of his shoulders.
Someone snickers. Someone else laughs. The screen has changed again, but instead of Josef’s artwork being displayed, it’s a picture of Josef. With tiny rollers covering his head and a cape around his shoulders. The next slide shows him sitting beneath a dryer, reading a magazine with his finger up his nose.
Laughter erupts around the room and Josef turns his attention from his blank canvas to the screen. “What the fuck?” he barks, Hungarian accent notably absent. “Where da fuck did you find that?”
“Oh my god,” I whisper as the scene erupts into Josef screaming, a thick Bostonian accent emerging, at the instructor who looks flustered by the pictures slipped into the slideshow.
The screen goes blank.
“Holy shit, that was epic,” Becca exclaims and pumps her fist in the air. “Score for the Band Nerds!”
Levi hugs me as the others erupt into a loud discussion about the video.
I turn to the man holding me, unsure what I think. “Levi?”
His face is solemn, but satisfied. “He needed to be punished, Jolene,” he says simply. “He was going to do much worse to you, would’ve destroyed you without a second thought. I couldn’t let that go. It was either teach him a lesson in humility, or beat the ever lovin’ shit out of him. I chose this one because the effect will last much longer.” He kisses my cheek and rests hi
s forehead against mine. “You’re mine to protect. And I wouldn’t be the man for you if I didn’t make sure you got some payback.”
Staring into his eyes, I feel a tremendous pressure building in my chest. On one hand, I feel sorry for Josef. He’s so proud, so arrogant, that this kind of embarrassment will burn deep. But Levi is right. Josef would’ve ruined my reputation and quite possibly, my life with that painting he did. The punishment he should’ve gotten by it not showing was lost when he won the expo, rewarding him instead.
“I just wish you had let it go,” I mumble because it just seems wrong to enjoy Josef’s humiliation. Even though I have to admit he’d looked silly with his hair in rollers.
Levi’s revenge exposed Josef for who he really is, a fake. Oh, he’s talented. There’s no denying that, but at least everyone knows he isn’t the perfect sophisticate he pretended to be.
“You mad at me?” Levi asks.
Torrent turns off his phone and someone puts the draft on, the commentators talking a backdrop for the excitement filling the air. The drama with Josef is over. They aren’t lingering over it because he didn’t matter. This night is meant for friends cheering on their other friend as he enters a new chapter of his life.
Am I mad at Levi?
Cupping his cheek, I kiss him softly. “A little. But we’re gonna have makeup sex later anyway,” I whisper.
That smirk? He’s so on board.
Levi
“Can you believe it?” I ask Jolene as I dance her into my bedroom hours later.
Okay, maybe I had a few too many beers the instant Tight was drafted—in the first fucking round!—to the Phoenix Stars. But man, I’m so happy for my friend, for Cube and Ms. G, that I feel like I was the one who signed a multi-million dollar contract for five years.
Jolene laughs up at me, her face glowing. “It is exciting,” she concedes.
Yeah, it fucking is. But there’s a tiny part of me that can’t help but feel left behind. Not like I’m gonna pine for Tight or anything, but he’s my best friend. We’ve been seeing each other nearly every day for four years. Now he’s gonna be living in Phoenix, traveling the world, and all the other shit professional athletes do. I know he’ll come back to LaSalle since his mama isn’t planning to retire and Cube’s going to finish school at Sauvage, but it won’t be the same.
