Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy) (2 page)

“
Be safe,” Dad says, as he always does when I leave the house.
His obsession about my health and safety is in overdrive. If he had
a clue about the stalker, he would probably keep me home. His fear
of losing me makes him irrational, so I make sure I drink the yellow
muck before I walk out.

I drive up Highway 93 to Missoula, inspired by the mountain
view. The sun in the ocean blue sky warms me with each glimmer. I
try to relax, but worry unsettles me.

Half-way to campus, I notice the black Camaro trailing behind
me.
Maybe I’m getting worked up over nothing. Maybe he goes to
school in Missoula. Maybe I imagined that car last night.
I didn’t
speed up. I let him follow me as if I could stop him. I keep a check
in my rearview mirror and notice he drops off his tag as I reach
campus.

I manage to make it through English and History without any
major event. I need a break and sit in The Recess, the campus
coffee shop. The warming scent of my chocolate mocha helps me
unwind.

“
Hey, girl!” Taylie shouts from across the room. I jolt spilling
coffee
on my
shirt. We
planned to meet during
our
break.
Perpetually peppy with perfect hair and makeup, Taylie looks more
like a New Yorker than a girl from small town Montana. If “Guys”
were a major she would make straight A’s and never miss a day of
class.

She sits down shaking her head as if looking at someone from a
list of top ten worst dressed.
“Ashe, really. We’ve got to go shopping.” My bargain brand
faded jeans with threads dragging the hem make her cringe.
“I’m comfortable,” I insist, as I try to rub out the brown spot on
my now stained green t-shirt.
“How have your classes been so far?” I ask anticipating my
next class, Painting 101, with hopes it would be the highlight of my
day. I focus on school and I try to weed out everything else.
“Have you noticed all the guys? I think I’m going to go
insane,” she says ignoring my question.
“I think you’re already there.”
Taylie scopes the room like a kid in a candy store with an
addiction to sugar. Finding a guy is not on my“to-do” list. I don’t
need the complications.
“Really, Ashe, so many to choose from.” She pans the room as
if shopping for a new pair of shoes. An expensive pair everyone
would want, but only she could wear.
“You’re too much,” I tell her.
I didn’t even go to prom. Believe me, I heard it from everyone.
Taylie tried to fix me up with anybody and everybody. Dancing
isn’t my thing. I tried to convince myself that the whole idea of
dating was lame. Well, I guess most guys at Darby High thought of
me as too lame to ask out.
A part of me envies Taylie. Her carefree spirit embraces the
social scene. I bury the part of myself that longs for what Taylie
has. During most of my middle and high school years, I heard from
my classmates about my weird dad and his behavior scared most of
them away. The guys in high school got on my nerves anyway. I
already had one kid at home, Dad. I didn’t need another one
“Really, Ashe, you need a boyfriend.”
“Why? I am doing just fine on my own.” I’m tired of being
pushed. I don’t need any issues.
“Well . . .y…y…you just do.” She doesn’t really have a good
answer. Sometimes, she’s worse than a guy. Taylie’s mind doesn’t
stay in the same place long. “Check out the blond.” By this time she
eyes
some good-looking,
unsuspecting
victim
from across the
endless pool of people. I’ve no idea which one has become her
target.
“Oh my God, Ashe, look at him.”
“Who?”
I
ask
unconcerned, tracing
the campus map for
Anderson Hall, ignoring her as much as possible.
“He’s unbelievably gorgeous.” She shakes my arm trying to
pop it out of socket.
What?” I say annoyed. I look up, as if I have no other choice. I
follow her finger as she points from behind her book.
Okay, well, yeah he’s probably the most unbelievably beautiful
human being I’d ever
seen.
His thick and
wavy
amber
hair
shimmers with each beam of sunlight, every strand kissed by the
rays filtering through the window. His face formed from the bust of
a Greek god. Chiseled. I mean every feature. Perfect. My body
tenses when he stares straight at me with his intense blue eyes.
Well, maybe he’s staring at Taylie. That would definitely make
more sense. I blush as he looks our way. Embarrassed by the
attention, I drop my eyes back down to the campus map.
Okay, now
I’m acting like Dad.
I can’t help myself. I’m sure I appear socially
inadequate; uncomfortable with the attention because I’m unsure
what to do with it.
“He’s looking over here. Don’t look. Don’t look,” Taylie says,
as she ignores her own advice.
Taylie has to be the one he’s watching.
Then, I feel a sharp
chill as his eyes meet mine. I look down again out of awkwardness.
His eyes pierce through me even though I can’t see his face. I gawk
at the campus map with hopes of protection from being noticed.
What’s wrong with him?
Taylie’s hair looks like it’s been
poured from a honey jar as it runs passed her shoulders meeting the
middle of her back; fair unblemished skin with rich brown eyes. I
mean every guy looks at her. Basically, she can take her pick.
Me, on the other hand, well, I’m common; the complete
opposite of Taylie. Long dark hair, black as night, olive skin and
dark brown eyes. I’m thin and that’s the only thing Taylie and I
have in common, and the fact that we are exactly the same height,
five feet six. I look a lot like Dad. Strangely enough, Taylie looks
more like my mother except for my mother’s blue eyes. I have
never seen anyone with eyes like hers until now. This beautiful
stranger looks at me with my mother’s blue eyes glowing from
across the room. Chill bumps cover me and I hold my breath for a
moment as I realize the emotions I have when I look at my mother’s
picture.
“I’m gonna be late for class.” I need an excuse to leave.
“Same time tomorrow, Ashe?”
“Sure.” I clutch my books and head to my next class. I turn and
glance back at him, his eyes still on me as I make the corner.
Everything moves in slow motion as his face follows mine with
every movement defined by the longest seconds I’ve ever known.
I make my way out of The Recess and stop to catch my breath.
Out of my element, I don’t know what to do with the attention
usually intended for Taylie. The thought of having to introduce any
guy to my father makes me uneasy. I’m not usually this dramatic,
but there’s something unsettling about this guy. To keep my nerves
from unraveling, I immerse myself in art. It’s always been my safe
place, so a have a sense of relief as I head to Painting 101.
I need a place to refocus, but the challenge proves difficult.
Professor Bran introduces himself as a newcomer to The University
of Montana. He’s handsome, but in a mysterious way. When he
speaks his lips move like a finely orchestrated waltz. He appears to
be in his late twenties or even a well-preserved thirty. He lectures to
the class, but I feel he’s only speaking to me. His lips move, but I
hear nothing, as if I’m watching a silent movie. I don’t know what
the others in class are doing because I can’t take my eyes off him.
His metallic emerald green eyes are disorienting. As he examines
the classroom, I watch him move back and forth and I can feel him
hypnotizing me.
I pull my face toward the desk with difficulty as if my eyes are
glued to his, magnetized to the glistening of metal in his face.
Words float passed his lips like frost in the air.
“Paint what is in your soul. Due Wednesday.”
I’ve missed the entire class. I look at my cell and I notice an
hour has passed.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I
turn
to the person sitting
next to
me. “What’s our
assignment?” I ask with a red-tinged face.
“It’s ridiculous. This class is a joke,” he says. “I’m Jackson by
the way.” He introduces himself as he forces another book into his
backpack.
“I’m Ashe. What’s ridiculous?”
“This professor. He
talks
to us
like
we’ve
never painted
anything.”
“Well, actually
I
hardly
heard a
word,”
I
confess with
mortification.
He’s in a hurry. “This guy thinks we’re in kindergarten. Our
house. He wants an 11x14 in oil of our house, but it must come
from our soul whatever the heck that means. It’s due next week.
This has to be some kind of joke.”
“Oh,” I respond confused, as if I’ve been slipped a drug.
“Got a class across campus. Gotta run.” and he bolts.
“Thanks,” I say as he jogs away. He probably thinks I’m
stupid, and I’m beginning to think the same thing.
What’s wrong with me? Where did I go?
It’s as if I developed
A.D.D. overnight. I call Taylie on her cell as I walk to my car, but
she doesn’t answer.
I can’t get Professor Bran out of my head. The entire drive
home I can only picture his porcelain face, his bewitching eyes, his
mute moving full lips, his dirty blond hair pulled back tight into a
pony tail. I live with my father, so I’m used to strange, but this odd
encounter freaks me out. It’s more out of the ordinary than my
unordinary life.
Everything around me has become more unexplainable. As I
pull into the driveway, I realize I never saw the Camaro. If it
followed me I never realized it.
I walk through the front door and call out for Dad. He doesn’t
answer.“Hi, Dad,” I say again a little louder. Still, there’s no
answer so I walk toward the basement.
“Good day at school?” he finally responds passing by me as he
walks down the squeaky wooden stairs leading to his sterile world.
“It was fine except for a strange professor I have in my art
class.”
“Aren’t those people a little different anyway?” He’s one to
talk and I’m one of‘those’ people.“What happened?” he asks,
halfway interested while he mixes the yellow muck in a beaker.
“I don’t really know.”
“What does that mean?” he mumbles concentrating on pouring
the precise amount of whatever he has from a flask.
“When I figure it out, I’ll let you know.” He isn’t really paying
attention to me anyway.
His mind is focused on his science.
“Dinner will be ready in a little bit. I’ll call you up when it’s time to
eat.”
While heading up the stairs my cell rings. It’s Taylie. “I see
where I missed your call. What’s up?”
“Something strange happened in art class.”
“What? What? Is it a guy?” Literally, I think men are all she
thinks about.
“Yeah, but he’s my professor.”
“What? Are you kidding?” she says insinuating something
inappropriate.
“Really, Taylie, calm down and get your mind out of the gutter.
It’s like I wasn’t there. In class all I could do was stare at him. I sat
in my chair the entire class and missed everything. I didn’t hear a
word he said. The guy next to me had to tell me about our
assignment. I was really out of it.”
“What’s he like?”
“Who? Jackson? I don’t know. He’s okay. This professor
though, I don’t get it.”
“Maybe he likes you.”
“Is that all you think about? Let it go, Taylie. I’ve got to go
feed Dad.” She can be so aggravating sometimes.
“See ya tomorrow at lunch.” She hangs up without getting a
thing I said. Maybe I’m tired and making more of this than I
should.
After dinner, I begin work on my project for Professor Bran’s
class. He wants a painting from my soul. A painting of my home.
How weird. What does that even mean?
I haven’t ever had a
conversation with my soul, so I’m not sure what he meant. What
sticks in my mind are those appealingly toxic green eyes. Before I
get very far, that’s what starts to appear on the canvas. Deep green
and almond shaped. Perfectly formed how an eye
should be;
impeccable lashes that outlined each sclera whiter than Montana
snow. I’ve painted his eyes without even thinking about it. I don’t
understand what’s come over me. He mesmerized me, leaving me
scared and excited at the same time. I’ve got to get it together to
keep from losing my mind. I begin to worry I’m turning into my
father.
I throw the painting to the side and pull out a fresh canvas. I
agree with Jackson’s description of the assignment; ridiculous and
elementary. I do it anyway, with those haunting green eyes staring
at me from the corner of my studio.