So Damn Beautiful (A New Adult Romance) (35 page)

“And just because his work is being
commodified doesn’t mean he’s the person initiating it or condoning
it. And it doesn’t take the edge off his art. He’s still chosen
anonymity over potentially even more money. He still undertakes
risky illegal interventions on our streets. He still messes with
people’s expectations, time after time.” I paused. “And no matter
what, his work is unapologetically his own. You don’t see him
hopping on the bandwagon and doing what everyone else is
doing.”

People began to nod in approval, but Elsie
just rolled her eyes and turned to glare at me. “Banksy is totally
not
a radical artist. His work is made for wealthy people
who feel guilty about their privilege. It’s completely dishonest—it
panders to these pie-in-the-sky ideas people have about revolution,
but he’s just as ambitious and mainstream as someone like Quentin
Pierce. Think about it. Celebrity fans? Oscar-nominated films?
Exhibitions in exclusive places?” She sat back, arms crossed, as if
she’d just proved a profound point.

On any other day, I would have let Elsie have
the last word, but I could feel both anger and passion rising in my
belly. “That’s a completely cynical way of reading his work. If you
think a guy who makes the unequivocal statement that public space
shouldn’t be overrun by advertising, that it’s ours to rearrange
and reuse as we see fit, is anything less than radical, you’re
wrong.”

Elsie raised an eyebrow. “Pretty funny that
you’re sitting here defending graffiti art, especially after the
way Chase Adams screwed you over.”

An excited buzz went through the class.
“Okay, everyone, settle down—we’re going off topic here,” Professor
Claremont exclaimed, her eyes darting nervously between Elsie and
me. But whether or not Elsie’s stinging remark was pertinent, I
didn’t care. Something in me snapped at that point. I had been her
punching bag for the past several weeks, not because I was afraid
of her, but because I had doubted my own ability to prove I had
what it took to be a successful curator. And I was tired of it. I
was tired of being undermined and abused by the Elsie Donegans of
the world. She’d tried to push me off the committee, she’d
shamelessly stalked then tried to seduce Chase, but she was
definitely
not
going to get the best of me today. I could
feel myself spontaneously building a counterattack.

“This isn’t about Chase Adams, and it never
has been,” I said, my voice restrained and low. “You know what,
Elsie? I’d always heard about girls like you—jealous,
mean-spirited, and mysteriously angry all the time—but I never
believed they existed, because they sounded like caricatures to me.
And honestly? That’s kind of what you are. Unlike you, I don’t need
to hide claws and knives behind my sweetness. I’m not so wounded
and manipulative that I need to emulate some fake image of what an
art aficionado is supposed to look like. The truth is, you’re
pathetic. You know it, everyone knows it, and the bitch act isn’t
fooling anyone. You act like you’re packing heat, but I think
you’re just sad and lonely. And you’re starting to embarrass
yourself. Especially because it’s clear that despite your classical
education and your parents’ connections, you are definitely a
goldfish swimming with sharks when it comes to talking
intelligently about street art.”

A collective gasp arose. Elsie’s face went
red with fury, but when she opened her mouth, she couldn’t find the
words to respond. Unbelievably, students in the class actually
started to cheer over my little blitzkrieg, while Professor
Claremont was struggling to calm down the room.

“Class, class! Settle down, please!” she
shouted, to no avail. At that moment, the bell rang. Before anyone
could come up to me with questions or congratulatory wisecracks, I
shot out of the room—catapulted by a surge of energy that felt
altogether foreign to me.

As I made my way out onto the street, I heard
a voice behind me.

“Annie, wait up!’

I turned around. It was Kendra. I braced
myself for another onslaught. “If you’re going to lecture me, save
it, Kendra,” I said harshly.

She stepped back somewhat timidly. “No way
I’d goad
you
into a scuffle, girl,” she said. There was
admiration in her voice. “I just wanted to say you were incredible
back there. Not just in the way you gave it to Elsie, but . . .
damn, you actually made art seem cool!” She grinned, which took the
tension out of my body.

“So, does this mean you’re talking to me
now?” I asked, still feeling a little guarded after her recent
iciness.

She smiled a bit timorously. “I’ve been
feeling like a first-class asshole ever since we fought. I mean,
shit, I was so fucking holier-than-thou! But what you do is your
own business. My mom always told me the best antidote to judgment
is curiosity. I should have been more curious, as opposed to just
telling you what to do. I’m sorry for getting all sanctimonious on
your ass. Even Yannis said I was being a brat.” She peeked at me
uncertainly through the curtains of her eyelashes. “Would you
forgive me?”

I enfolded my friend in a huge hug. “Of
course, silly.” I looked behind her. “But let’s get out of here,
okay? I’m not in the mood to indulge our classmates with
justifications for what happened back there.”

She laughed. “Everyone in that class is
bowing down to you right now, Annie. Elsie’s backbiting has earned
her plenty of enemies already—you just said what everyone was
thinking. That blowup was fucking classic! I wish I’d recorded it
to put on YouTube. It would totally have gone viral!”

I linked my arm through Kendra’s. “For once,
I’m glad I didn’t hold back. You have no idea what I’ve had to deal
with these past few days, Kendra. I swear your head will spin when
I tell you.”

Her eyes widened. “So what are we waiting
for? My next class is in a few hours. Let’s grab lunch, and you can
tell Mama everything.”

I smiled. “Okay . . . but only if we bypass
the soba noodles for some pizza. I’m famished!”

It was Wednesday morning, and while I’d managed to patch things up
with both Chase and Kendra, I had been procrastinating on the hard
part. It was time to put on my big-girl shoes and confront Harrison
with the truth—and this time, I wasn’t going to let my guilt or his
declarations of love get in the way. I’d talked to both Kendra and
my mom about it, and the consensus was the same.

“Annie Bear, I’ve always told you to trust
yourself,” my mother half-berated me.

“Mom, what I remember most from you was your
advice to keep my head screwed on straight, rather than allow
myself to be sidetracked by boys,” I complained.

“Oh, honey, that was just for your own good,
but I’ve always had faith in your ability to make the best
decisions for
you
. I don’t want you to make the same
mistakes I did, but I also know you’re an intelligent, passionate,
and wise soul who gets to have her own experience in this world.
I’m so sorry if I ever made you believe I wouldn’t support you or
love you if you didn’t do it the way I wanted you to.”

Tears came to my eyes at my mother’s words.
“Mom, I’ve never doubted your love. I just wanted to make you proud
of me.”

“I am
so
proud of you, Annie Bear.
Words couldn’t possibly express it.” I could imagine her curled up
on the couch, fogging up her tortoiseshell glasses with her own
tears. “And now it’s time for you to get out there and show the
world who you are and what you want. Don’t ever apologize for
that.”

Kendra’s advice had been more to the point.
“You need to tell Harrison about Chase, stat. Look, I make no bones
about my own moral failings, but this is just a matter of
pragmatism. If you keep stringing him along, you’ll just end up
screwing over everyone—Harrison, Chase, even yourself. So don’t go
in for that compassion crap. Make it like a Band-Aid—rip it off
without dawdling.”

I knew she was right. What stung my pride
most in this situation was the fact that I’d always chosen to view
myself as having integrity. But for a long time now, I’d been
completely dishonest about my feelings for Chase. I’d fixated so
much on why he was completely wrong for me that I’d strung Harrison
along in the process. I hadn’t been willing to face the truth: that
I was irrevocably and hopelessly in love with Chase. Of course, I’d
known . . . I’d probably known from the moment I’d first laid eyes
on him. And being the proverbial good girl had been more important
than following my own desire.

Never again, Annie
, I told myself.
You’re never going to be that stupid again.

The swift kick to my ego had been an
incredible learning moment, and as I walked over to Harrison’s
house, I was almost hopeful. My stomach was in knots, but perhaps
the whole ordeal would end up being easier than I’d previously
imagined.

I knocked on the door, hoping he’d be home.
I’d texted him about an hour ago but hadn’t heard back, so I was
taking my chances by being there. But the need felt urgent. It
wasn’t something that I could relay in a polite email or over the
phone or two weeks from now at some swanky SoHo restaurant. It was
now or never.

Thankfully, he opened the door. He smiled
when he saw me and swept me into his arms. “So sorry I didn’t get a
chance to text back. My phone died when I was in my car.” He
stepped back, a slight frown on his face. “Uh, do you have a change
of clothes or something? You’re early, so I’m assuming you’re not
wearing that tonight.”

I looked down at my beige sweater and dark
jeans, confused. “I’m early? Should I be wearing something
else?”

He broke out into a grin. “You’re such a
joker, Annie. Remember I told you we have reservations for wd~50
tonight? My parents just got in from JFK ten minutes ago, and
they’re dying to meet you. They’re having cocktails in the living
room right now.”

I felt my heart drop about twenty stories. I
wanted to smack myself. I’d completely forgotten that Harrison’s
parents were in from Europe and tonight was when I was supposed to
meet them. In the tumult of the last few days, the state of my
relationship with Harrison had definitely taken a backseat to
everything else, and my calendar was just as discombobulated as my
state of mind.

Perfect timing, Annie
, I scolded
myself.

Harrison could tell from the look on my face
that something was awry. “Uh-oh. Do you want to tell me something,
Annie?” he said nervously.

I shuffled my feet slightly. “There’s no easy
way to say this, Harrison.”

He sighed miserably. “Just spill the beans,
because I know it’s bad news. I—” At that moment, his eyes dropped
to my hips. And they stayed there. I looked down. My sweater had
ridden up slightly over my waist when I’d taken off my jacket in
Harrison’s stifling foyer.

“Annie, is that new?” He sounded totally
befuddled.

Harrison was staring right at my tattoo.

I took a deep breath. If we did it the usual
way, I’d probably end up going to dinner with Harrison and his
parents, smiling despondently through the whole thing. Might as
well dive into the deep end when the chance was there.

“Yeah, it’s new . . . and Chase Adams
designed it.”

I could see his nostrils flaring. When he
spoke, he struggled to maintain his composure. “What were you doing
with that guy? Didn’t we already agree you wouldn’t see him
again?”

“This happened . . . before that.”

Harrison looked like I’d slapped him in the
face. “You need to tell me the truth, Annie. What’s going on? Are
you two . . . together?”

Sadness rose into my chest. Harrison looked
so disconsolate. I would have given anything to bring his smile
back, but I knew it was too late. “I’m so sorry, Harrison. I didn’t
mean to lie to you. I was genuinely confused.” I paused and stared
down at my feet. “I’ve been such an idiot, and I hope you’ll
forgive me for any pain I’ve caused. You’re everything a girl could
possibly want, but I can’t ignore my feelings for Chase. Not
anymore.”

“So, let me get this straight. You cheated on
me with that loser?”

Tears came to my eyes. “Yes, I cheated on
you.” I drew my shoulders up tightly, expecting the full impact of
his anger. “I feel terrible about it. You don’t deserve this,
Harrison, and I really do care about you, but it’s clear that
things can’t continue between us.”

He made a sound between a laugh and a sob.
“If you cared about me, Annie, you wouldn’t be trying to weasel
your way out of this. You wouldn’t be trying to deflect
responsibility.”

His voice was measured and level. I had known
he would be angry, but the level of restraint in his anger and the
way his lips were pursed frightened me.

“I don’t have anything to give you,
Harrison,” I said. “Nothing but my friendship.”

“After everything that’s happened between us,
how can you say that?” His voice began to rise. “I don’t want to be
your
friend
!”

That’s when I started to feel somewhat
defensive. “Harrison, I know you’re upset, but we’ve only been
dating a few weeks! I mean, you’re the one who sprung the whole
relationship thing on me. I always told you I wanted to take it
slow.”

“While you were fucking Chase Adams?” He
laughed contemptuously. “Your false modesty is starting to make a
hell of a lot of sense now.”

I frowned. “Harrison, I tried to tell you I
was ambivalent, but you were so busy making plans for us that you
barely even listened to me!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You’re not
a child, Annie. You’re a grown woman—so act like one.”

It was obvious that talking to Harrison when
he was in such a livid state wouldn’t make matters better. I
started to put my coat on. “I have to go now, but if you’re willing
to talk about this more calmly in the future, I’m available,” I
said. “I just don’t know what more there is to say now.”