Expelled

by Claire Adams

  “Hey, Josh, come in here and spar with Jet. You might as well get your feet wet. Don't go hard on him though, Jet.”

  I just nodded.

  The sparring rounds were good, and kept me on my toes. It was an excellent way for me to see where my weaknesses were. I was also allowed to use all my tricks. I could keep the fight going as a stand-up, or I could take it to the ground. It all depended on how the fight went, and what my opponent's weaknesses were.

  The kid wasn't bad for a freshman, but he had a lot to learn. He would get there though, they always did. We ended our round, and touched gloves before the kid headed out of the ring. I took my gloves off, and got out of the ring myself. I sat down on one of the benches and took off my shin pads. I was taking my gear off, but my workout was not complete. We still had weight training, and we’d be focusing on back and biceps. I grabbed a quick rinse, and followed Robbie to the weight area.

  We did a series of back exercises that left my muscles shaking, and then proceeded into bicep curls in various ways. We went to muscle failure, where my arms felt like jelly, and I wondered if I would be able to pick up a coffee mug the next day.

  By the time I was done training, I felt jacked and ready to get into a fight. It was only a matter of time.

  “You're all done for the day, Jet. Go relax, have some fun. But not too much fun.”

  I laughed as I headed to the locker room to grab my bag. I put away my gloves and gear, and shut the locker door. I heaved my bag over my shoulder and got the hell out of the training center before Robbie found something else for me to do.

  Chapter Five

  Natalie

  It was a beautiful day for the art walk, and I was in my own private art tent, setting up. I had arrived a little late, due to a terrible night’s sleep. I had to get my showcase set up, and the show was opening up in less than an hour. I began by hanging my drawings, one by one. They were all in a particular theme, and it was important to set them up in such a way to allow the viewer to understand exactly what I had in mind when I drew them. From there, I put up my pastels, and finished with watercolor. I only showcased my best work, as I considered myself a serious artist.

  One of my classmates, Brenda, showed up with a cup of coffee, and I almost kissed her for it.

  Having my work showcased for the entire city to see was an exciting opportunity for me. Not only did I get a chance to make a local name for myself, but I got to make a quick buck. Students need more opportunities to make quick cash, and although I doubted that I would sell out that day, at least I would have some pocket change.

  I proudly stood aside as people came in and out of my tent, looking at the paintings and drawings up for show. I was particularly good at drawing with ink, the kind of ink right out of a bottle. I also specialized in watercolors and pastel drawings. It was an incredible feeling to create something out of nothing. To put ink to paper without a thought in mind, and have an inkling of an idea take shape on paper, and turn it into something incredibly inspiring that would move a person so much that she needed to buy it and hang it in her own home.

  I said hi to a woman who arrived with a little girl in tow. The little girl had been gazing dreamily at a painting of mine with a moon lighting up a streetscape. She couldn't keep her eyes off of it. My heart filled at the thought that someone so young found something compelling in one of my paintings.

  “Your girl is mesmerized there. How old is she?”

  The mother looked up at me from a drawing and said, “She's 4, and yes, she certainly knows what she likes.”

  I bent down towards the little girl, and asked her what she liked about the painting.

  “It makes me feel magical.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled at her before returning to my chair, where I had been sitting with a classmate of mine named Brenda, the one who had brought me a cup of coffee. A girl after my own heart, to be sure. Her media of choice had been photography and her work was breathtaking. She had stopped at my tent to take a break before the show started.

  The mother approached me with the drawing she had been looking at, as well as the painting her daughter had grown so attached to.

  “I would like to buy these.”

  I smiled, and wrapped them up for her with paper before handing them back.

  “That will be $50, please.” The woman paid, and then took her daughter’s hand and left.

  I sat back down once again.

  “You really need to start charging more for your work, Natalie, you are practically giving the stuff away.”

  “One day maybe. I'm not too worried about it right now. When the time is right, I will.”

  “You could have easily made $300 bucks right there, though.”

  “I know, but it seems like an awful lot of money...”

  “You're an artist Nat, and you have to understand that your work is worth that much.”

  “Like I said, one day.”

  “All right, I hope so. So what have you decided to do for your changing object project?”

  “Ugh, I have no idea. I keep trying to come up with something creative but it's just not happening. I should be able to come up with something, but every time I think about it, I get ... nothing.”

  I sipped on my coffee, enjoying the heat that the creamy liquid offered my throat. The day just couldn't get any better for me. I certainly didn't think it could get any worse, but that was until Jet showed up.

  He walked into the tent like he owned the place, and I couldn't believe that I couldn't shake the guy.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here? I found you at last,” he chuckled as he said it.

  “What are you doing here, Jet? I wouldn't expect you to find you out at an art walk.”

  “Well, I figured you would be here, and I wanted to see you.”

  I looked over at Brenda, whose mouth was awkwardly dangling on the ground. We artists weren't use to incredibly hot guys visiting our art tents. I nudged her arm so she could get a handle on herself.

  There was no doubt about it, Jet was insanely good-looking. Most girls would swoon over that black hair and brown eyes, not to mention the body of a Greek god. The problem for me, however, was every time I looked at him, I was reminded of my boyfriend, and all he had done to me. I was not over the pain of finding out he cheated on me, and chose my best friend to do it with. How could I trust another man after that, especially one as smooth as Jet? He was used to getting whatever he wanted from women. How was I any different? I had to assume I would be used and abused, just like the rest of them.

  I continued to sip my coffee while he looked at me for some sign of affection.

  “What do you want, Jet?”

  “A date, one date.”

  “Not gonna happen.”

  “You promised me, though.”

  I snorted. “Oh is that what that sounded like to you? Do you know what a promise actually is?”

  “You are such a hardass. I can't get through to you no matter what.”

  “That's the truth.”

  He smiled. “Well, why the hell is that?”

  “Too many reasons to list.”

  “There was this guy ...” Brenda chirped up.

  “Brenda!” I yelled.

  Jet laughed. “Come on, you can't be blaming me for whatever some guy did to you in the past. It's too cliché.”

  I felt my blood pressure rise. “I'm not blaming you for anything. I just don't like you, and I'm entitled to my opinion.”

  “Damn. Why are you so cold? I'm actually a fun guy to hang around with. You know how to have fun, don't you?”

  “I do!” Brenda chimed in once again. Both Jet and I turned to stare at her, and as she blushed, I smirked.

  “Thank you for that, Brenda.”

  “See, Brenda likes fun. I'm sure if you tried it too, you would also find that it's kind of fun.”

  My coffee was getting cold, and I was growing bored with our conversation.

  “So, what do you say?”


  “I don't want to hang out with you, Jet.”

  Instead of leaving with his tail between his legs, he started to browse my artwork. I just shook my head in disbelief. He seemed to actually be looking at my pictures with interest. He studied each and every one, and it started to make me a little uncomfortable. He got real up close and personal with them, and it made me wonder what his game really was.

  “Where do you get your inspiration from? These are amazing.”

  I watched him, and decided to have one little honest moment. “I get my inspiration from many things. Things I feel passionate about, things I have learned for the first time, something that just sort of tweaks, ya know?”

  “I don't know at all. I can't even imagine how you do any of this, but I like it. It's all pretty incredible, just like you.”

  “Awe,” squealed Brenda.

  I casted Brenda a scathing look, hoping she would stop making the situation infinitely worse every time she opened her mouth.

  At least he had stopped asking me out, or checking out my body. Asking about my artwork was a little more preferable.

  “So if I wanted one of these, how much would it cost me?”

  For the first time since Jet arrived, I actually smiled, and it felt really good. “$300,” I told him.

  I heard Brenda gasp beside me, and it made the moment that much more enjoyable.

  “Really, $300?” He looked back at the artwork, and I could see the wheels turning. I didn't want him to own one of my pieces, but if he was desperate enough to try to impress me, then he could pay for it.

  He continued to study a particular drawing, and to my surprise, he took it off the wall and handed it to me.

  “You can't be serious.”

  “Oh, I am. I will have something of yours.” He chuckled as I rolled my eyes. I watched as he took out his wallet, and literally counted out $300 right in front of me. He handed the money to me, and I took it, thinking that he must have very rich parents. I handed the painting to Brenda and asked her to wrap it as I turned back to him.

  “Well, thank you.”

  “You're welcome. I can't wait to see what it looks like in my place.”

  Brenda finished wrapping the piece and handed it to him.

  “Anyway ... I happened to get here in time to overhear your little conversation.”

  “What conversation would that have been?” I asked confused.

  “Something about needing a changing subject.” I just stared at him, not understanding where he was going with the conversation. “You seem to be having trouble with your project, so I thought I would help you out.”

  “How could you possibly help me out? You don't know a thing about art.”

  “Well, that's true, but I thought maybe I could help you by being the changing object in your art project.”

  “If this is some kind of an erection joke, I'm not finding it very funny.”

  He laughed, and I couldn't help but awkwardly join him.

  “I'm dead serious, though. I think it would be fun, and it would really help you to finish your project.”

  “I don't know.”

  “Natalie, there aren't too many people I'm willing to go out on a limb for. Let's just go out once and you can draw me for your project even if you never want to go out with me again. What do you have to lose?”

  It was true, I didn't have a clue what I was going to do for the project, and nothing seemed to be coming to me. So maybe I should use Jet for the project, and see how it went. I could always stop it at any time if a better idea came along.

  “Alright, Jet, you have a deal, but don't think for a minute you’re getting lucky with an artist. That drawing is as close to me as you're going to get.”

  He grinned as he gave me his number, and told me to call him later to meet up. He then put my picture under his arm, and headed out of the tent before I could change my mind.

  “Goodbye, beautiful!” he shouted over his shoulder, and just like that, he was gone.

  I turned to look at Brenda. “I must be out of my mind.”

  “This is the most excitement I've ever had at an art walk.”

  We laughed; however, the comment was totally true.

  “I can't believe you charged him $300 for that drawing after what you said to me!”

  “He was an exception, and he deserved it.”

  It turned out that the day was a pretty profitable one, after all.

  When I arrived home from the art walk, I put my money in a jar, excited that I had made so much, and giddy that I had pulled one over on Jet. I thought about what I was going to spend my newfound wealth on as I stripped down in my bedroom. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the hotter the better. I desperately needed to relax, and a hot shower always eased my aches and pains.

  Before leaving the art walk, I had sent a message to Jet about meeting that night so I could start on my project as soon as possible. I was a little on edge about the whole thing. I couldn't even believe I had agreed to meet with him, and I hoped the evening wasn't going to turn into a disaster. I didn't need the stress, especially since I would be back to square one with my changing objects project.

  I quickly brushed out my hair. The stream coming from the shower drew me in, and as I stepped into the hot water, my anxiety seemed to melt away instantly. The shower had been exactly what I needed. I had absolutely no reason to be nervous. This wasn't a date with a new guy I was interested in. All we were doing was meeting so that I could complete my project. It was nothing. I would survive this meeting unscathed, and maybe even have a story to tell my friends. They would love to hear how some hot guy on campus posed for me. It would be the highlight of most of their years, including mine.

  I was just about done with my shower when I heard a door slam. It must have been Julie coming into the apartment. I turned the taps off before getting out to dry myself off. By the time I got out and dressed, I felt much better about the whole situation.

  I headed out of the bathroom to see Julie, who was in the kitchen pouring herself a glass of wine.

  “I'll have one of those.”

  Julie grabbed another glass out of the cupboard, and poured me a glass as well.

  “How was the art walk?”

  “Fabulous. A hilarious thing happened today. Jet showed up and bought one of my drawings for $300.”

  Julie looked confused. “Jet? Jet from school?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course. How many Jets do you know?”

  “Why was he in your tent, or at the art walk, for that matter? I wasn't even there.”

  “Well, he's been stalking me relentlessly for the past few days.”

  “Seriously? You have seen him since the night at the bar? Why didn't you tell me?”

  “I don't know. I didn't think it was important.”

  “Are you new to gossip? This is incredible news. So $300, right? Wow, you really took the guy for everything.”

  “He got everything he deserved,” I laughed. “I guarantee that drawing is in a trash can somewhere. The guy is clearly just trying to get in my pants.”

  “I don't know, Natalie, that's a lot of money to spend on a girl who he hasn't even gone on a date with. He may actually be really into you.”

  “That's ridiculous. But speaking of dates, I am actually seeing him tonight.”

  “You are going on a date with Jet? Oh, this is so rich.”

  “It's not a date.”

  “Then what is it?”

  “He offered to help me with my changing objects project, so we are meeting for that reason, and that reason alone.”

  “Oh my God, this is hilarious. Just days ago you were ripping this guy apart in a bar. You didn't even know who he was, and you told him you couldn't care less about him. Now you guys are going out on a date? How funny is this?”

  “It's not a date.”

  “Who are you kidding? This guy doesn't want to be part of your project; it's just the only way you would be seen in public with him.”r />
  “It's not a date.” I think at that point I was also trying to convince myself.

  “It's a date in sheep’s clothing, for sure. Like, think about it, you're going to have to see him at least once a month, every month for the whole year. He totally conned you into regular dates.”

  I laughed. “No, trust me, this is totally professional. I'm not interested in him at all.”

  “I don't know, Natalie. I think sooner rather than later you guys are going to be sweaty and tangled in the sheets.”

  “Oh for crying out loud, will you stop?”

  “Just warning you.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  I headed to the bathroom with my glass in hand to start getting ready for my “not date,” and realized that Julie was following close behind. I checked my reflection in the mirror and started applying makeup. Not a lot, just a little concealer, blush, eyeliner, and mascara. I didn't like to overdo things; too much makeup was a bad thing.

  “So, how exactly is he going to help you with your project?”

  “I'm going to draw him.”

  “Seriously?” She started laughing. “Like in Titanic? 'Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.'”

  I couldn't help but bust out laughing. Julie could be completely hilarious when she wanted to be. I laughed so hard, I almost crumpled to the floor. When we were done cackling, she said, “Please tell me it's not going to be like that.”

  “God, I hope not.”

  “Watch out, he will drop his drawers for a nude drawing and the next thing you know the two of you will be grinding in the sack.”

  “I never said this was going to be a nude drawing. What makes you think I want to see him nude?”

  “Please, every girl on campus wants to see him nude.”