The Art of Life (17 page)

               
“Yes,
I did.
 
I just hope I didn’t steal your
first kiss moment.”

               
Giving
him a perplexed look, I ask, “My what?”

               
“You
know,
your first kiss.
 
Where everything falls into place and your heart stops.
 
When you truly care for someone; it really
connects you.
 
I just hope I didn’t rob
you of that.
 
It should be something you
remember forever,” Jeremy replies with a grin.

               
“I
think I will remember that forever,” I reply, as I turn around.

               
Suddenly,
I feel his breath hot on my neck.
 
“If
you want more practice I am more than willing.”

               
“Oh
my gosh
, Jeremy!” I yell, shoving him away.
 
He falters backwards and laughs.
 
“It’s not funny!”

               
Nodding
his head, he says, “Oh, yes it is.
 
I
make you blush!”

               
“Everything
makes me blush,” I state.

               
Jeremy
opens a kitchen drawer and hands me another spatula.
 
“Here, don’t burn my eggs.”

               
With
a scowl, I yank the utensil from him.
 
“I
don’t plan on it.”

               
The
rest of breakfast passes without event, even though I keep getting side tracked
by the memory of the kiss.
 
Every second
of it runs through my head.
 
I try to
ignore the memory because, well, it’s Jeremy and it’s not like it meant
anything.

               
“I
will do the dishes if you want to get started.”

               
I
look up at him.
 
“It’s fine.
 
I can help.”

               
“You
are going to help,” Jeremy retorts.
 
“Do
my art.”

               
“Okay,”
I reply.
 
Walking across the room, I grab
my supplies.
 
I sit back down at the
table and spread everything out.
 
My eyes
look up to really study the flowers.
 
I
wish I knew what he saw in them.
 
It
would help a little.
 
Sighing, I take a
pencil out and start to draw.
 

               
It
takes me a while, okay hours.
 
I want to
be precise and perfect.
 
Jeremy watches
carefully, but for the most part leaves me alone.
 
“It is looking great,” he whispers next to
me.

               
A
smile creeps across my face.
 
“Of course
it does.
 
It’s the one thing I am good
at.”

               
“I
think you would be a good kisser if you learned to kiss back.”

               
Now,
I am mortified.
 
“Really Jeremy, you kind
of caught me by surprise!”

               
“I
know.
 
I could tell by your reaction,” he
says into my ear.

               
Shrugging,
I push him away.
 
“Who needs a bully when
I have you?”

               
“I
am not picking on you that bad,
am
I!?” Jeremy gasps.

               
“No,”
I murmur, going back to my art.
 
Ignoring
him seems like the best idea.
 
I don’t
want to blush any more than necessary.
 
I
could have kissed back, but I was too scared.
 
I won’t ever tell him that though.
 
One day, I will kiss someone back, if I get the chance.

               
In
the later part of the afternoon, I finally take a deep breath.
 
Jeremy stands up from the couch.
 
“Are you done?”

               
“I
think so,” I reply, tilting my head to the side.
 
“My hand is cramping and my eyes are getting
tired.
 
So, if you want I can touch it up
later.”

               
Jeremy
walks up and leans over me.
 
“No,” he
whispers, “That is perfect.”
 
He picks it
up and turns around.
 
“You did a great
job Isabelle.
 
This means a lot.”

               
“I
wish….well, one day maybe you can tell me what they mean.”

               
There
is no response at first,
then
he barely says, “Maybe.”
 
Jeremy turns around and looks at
me.
 
“I haven’t told anyone this
before.
 
So, I am having faith in you
that you won’t say anything, but I have some dark things in my past.
 
Don’t worry, I am not a criminal and I didn’t
do anything bad, but I have my secrets, and I honestly have never opened up to
anyone about it.
 
But you, you Isabelle
are different.
 
I am hoping…well one day
it would be nice to have someone to talk to, but I am not there yet.
 
I haven’t quite dealt with it enough on my
own to bring it up to someone else.
  
I
also have not trusted anyone in a long time, not enough to tell them.”

               
I
walk over to him and put my hand on the side of his face.
 
“You can trust me.
 
I trust you with my past.
 
You make me feel safe about it.
 
Like I have someone to
share the burden with.
  
Not now,
but maybe someday we can talk, when you are ready.
 
You can trust me.”

               
“I
know,” he says, as he places his head on mine.
 
“I know.
 
We have just met, but
there is something strong here, I can feel it.”

               
“Is
that why you broke up with Debbie then, because she was pushing that boundary?”
I ask.

               
Quickly
looking down at me, Jeremy replies, “What?”

               
“Well,
maybe I shouldn’t say anything.
 
That is
wrong of me.”

               
“No,
no, what are you talking about?” He pushes.

               
Shrugging,
I say, “She said you wouldn’t talk about your past and when she pushed, you
broke up with her.”

               
That
seems to be funny, because Jeremy bursts out laughing.
 
“That is not why I broke up with her!
 
Not that she wasn’t poking
around about that,
but that is not the reason.”

               
“Can
I ask what the reason was?”

               
The
corner of his mouth twitches.
 
“You
really want to know?”

               
“No,
I am sorry.
 
That is none of my
business,” I stammer, shaking my head.

               
“It’s
okay.
 
I can be honest with you.
 
Debbie…well…she wouldn’t stop pressuring me
to have sex with her.”

               
Okay,
that’s not what I expected.
 
“You
wouldn’t?”

               
“Now
that my sex life has come up again, I will repeat what I told you.
 
I don’t sleep around.
 
It’s not that she isn’t beautiful, and the
thought did cross my mind, but no, I chose not to do it.”

               
“Oh,”
is all that I can say.
 
Then I point out,
“Most guys don’t care who it is and want it all the time.”

               
Laughing,
Jeremy retorts, “Well, I am human.
 
I
cannot deny that I think about it, and want it, but it’s the choice if you
pursue it or not.
 
I think that should
have more meaning than casually sleeping with someone.”

“So, um, you aren’t a
virgin right?” I quietly inquire.

That makes him smile even
broader.
 
“No, I can’t say that I am.”

“I am sorry if I am
prying.”

“I told you, you can ask me
anything about the subject.
 
Well, to a
certain extent.”

I shake my head.
 
“No, I am done asking.”

“Okay,” he replies.
 
Holding up the picture again, Jeremy states,
“This is beautiful.”

“When I do art, it is an
expression of who I am, what I am feeling.
 
It, a lot of the time, is how I express emotion, such as sadness, rage
and tranquility, and sometimes loneliness.
 
So, it’s a good piece of art, but it may not have the emotion behind it
because I don’t necessarily know what they mean to you, how you feel about
them.”

Jeremy bends over and
kisses the top of my head.
 
“It’s
perfect.
 
Those flowers are a symbol of
something, and you captured it.
 
It’s
about the beauty of them and you got it dead on.”

“That’s good,” I sigh.
 
“So you want me to put this in a frame and
everything?”

 
“I think I am going to get it professionally
framed, because your art deserves it.”

Biting my lip, I say, “I am
so nervous about people seeing my art.
 
You are the first person I really showed it to.
 
It’s like I am putting a piece of myself out
there for everyone to see.
 
I do art in
school, but I rein it in.
 
I am afraid to
let anyone see me.
 
I get picked on
enough.”

“You have to have enough
confidence to put yourself out there.
 
You have the talent to really take this to the next level.
 
I told you, I promise that I will do what I
can to get you into art school.
 
Isabelle, you really need to talk to your art teacher and get that information
together."

There is a part of me that
wants to cry.
 
“I want to go to school,
but I can’t.
 
My mom is a full time thing
and I will have to save up money to move out.
 
There is no way she will pay for my schooling and I know she will do
everything to ruin it, just so that I don’t leave.”

“We will figure it out,”
Jeremy reassures me.

“You plan to be in my life
that long?” I inquire.

He narrows his eyes a
little bit, “I think so.
 
Why, is that a
problem?”

               
“No,
not at all,” I reply.

               
A
huge sigh escapes him, “I am hungry.
 
I
want a pizza.
 
Do you want some pizza?”

               
“Sure.”

               
“I
will run and go get one.
 
Anything you
want on it in particular?” He asks.

               
I
shake my head.
 
“No.”

               
“Okay,
I will be right back then.”
 
Jeremy
carefully sets the picture down and grabs his keys.
 
As he heads to the door, he shouts, “Don’t go
anywhere!”

               
“Where
in the world would I go?”

               
He
laughs.
 
“I have no idea.”

               
As
he shuts the door, I turn around.
 
What
am I going to do?
 
Oh, I will clean the
kitchen.
 
So, I do.
 
When I am done wiping down the counters, I
look at the floor and realize it desperately needs to be swept.
 
Where would he have a broom?
 
There is a closet by the door, so I go over
there.

               
Inside
sits Jeremy’s jackets.
 
Pushing them to
the side, I find the broom….and a violin case.
 
That’s an odd thing to have in the closet.
 
Against my better judgment, I take it
out.
 
Setting it on the floor, I open it
up.
 
Wow, that is a beautiful
violin.
 
It looks to be expensive
too.
 
I carefully run my fingers along
the strings and wonder what it sounds like.