Envious (39 page)

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Authors: Katie Keller-Nieman

BOOK: Envious
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I knelt on the carpet, cautiously reaching out. I flipped the page and saw myself. I was drawn in profile, looking down, reading from
Gilgamesh
. The picture was drawn with such care. I looked beautiful. My hair was swept up in a small bun and tiny locks of hair fell down around my face.
When did he draw this?
I asked myself.
I read that book last semester.

Did he draw this last semester?
Before everything started?
I lifted the book into my hands and flipped the page, finding myself again.

“What is this?” I whispered. Elijah got up and sat by my side, pulling the headphones from his ears. “They’re of me.”

“Guess he likes to draw you,” Elijah commented.

“Why?” I asked, amazed at what I was seeing. Eli
jah shrugged impishly. “Elijah…do you think Eric was being honest? Was he telling the truth that he was confused about me and Aurora?”

Could he actually have feelings for me?

I stayed in Elijah and Eric’s tiny room for a great deal of the morning. My brother and I went through Eric’s sketchbooks. There were many drawings that resembled me. Most of them looked exactly like me. Each time that I turned the page, finding another image of me, my heart skipped a beat.

But my heart skipped two beats when I saw the sword. It was the sword that had killed me in my vision. The blade glinted and the handle was of twisted metal, piece after piece sliding over one another until forming a guard around the handle. The drawing was labeled November 2, 2003. That was the
day we first met in this life.

***

I sat in my cubbyhole of a room, trying to concentrate on my reading. I was so annoyed, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the page for more than twenty seconds. Aurora was changing her clothes, again and again. She pored over her closet and every combination of clothing possible. Every time I managed to go back to my book, she would ask my opinion. “Sandy? Do I look too easy in this? Should I wear the denim skirt instead? What coat should I wear? Where’s my digital camera? You can take a picture of my top five outfits! I feel so smart. He makes me feel smart, like I could do anything. Do I look smart?”

“Sure,” I said, rummaging through her things until I found the tiny camera. I snapped a picture of her.

“Sandy, I wasn’t ready,” she complained. “Oh my gosh! I only have ten minutes! Quick, pick my outfit!”

“I don’t know anything about clothes.”

“Just do it!”

“The denim skirt and blue tank.”

“Okay, then it’s the low-rise, ripped-up jeans and the black tank,” she decided. “Sorry, Sandy. But you really don’t know much about clothes.” She yanked off the blue top and threw it to the floor. Just another piece of clothing to the pile some like to call a floor. “Where’s my black bra?” she asked.

“How should I know?” I responded, burying my face with my book.

“I swear I left it on my bed,” Aurora whined.

I reached under my legs and pulled her bra out. “No, apparently, you left it on my bed.”

“Oh,” she squeaked as she pulled off the white bra she wore. “Good thing you found it, or I would have had to borrow yours,” she said with a sly grin.

“You would have looked like a double D stuffed in my bra.”

“Hmmm, that doesn’t sound half bad. Eric would certainly have something fun to look at. Cleavage City.” She adjusted the cup tightness for the most cleavage possible, but who could tell the difference? She already had all the cleavage I could ever dream of.

“Sandy, dear, this guy is the hottest. You know how super hot your druggie cousin Todd is? Eric is way hotter.”

“I can’t believe you think Todd is hot,” I commented. “He’s a loser.”

“Yeah, but losers can be hot. Sometimes that’s what makes them hot. Todd’s got the build of a pro football player. Add the fiery temper and those bleary eyes, and, oh baby, you’ve got a winner!”

“You’re sick.”

“But, anyway, Eric is who I’m focusing on tonight. When we come back here, could you make yourself scarce?” she asked, her eyes lighting up even more.

“Why, hoping to get lucky?”

“Sandy, Sandy, Sandy. Eric isn’t the kind of guy you would want to hold off on. He’s the kind you take as soon as you get him, understand?”

“Fine,” I said. I looked back to my book while Aurora admired herself in the mirror.

She stuck out her chest and pushed her breasts up with her hands. “I’m not getting smaller, am I?” she asked, crinkling her brow in worry.

“No.”

“Having a guy stimulates them, makes them bigger. Did you know? Maybe we should find you a guy.”

“What a solid reason for a relationship,” I added with bored sarcasm.

A knock came to the door and Aurora jumped. “Sandy, don’t get it!” she whispered harshly to me.

“Obviously,” I stated dryly. She was half naked and she thought I would just open the door?

“Just a sec!” she called out as she pulled her jeans up over her thong underwear. “Coming!” She threw her shirt on, adjusted her cleavage view and tossed her hair into place. Opening the door wide with grandeur, she leaned against the doorframe. “Hello,” she cooed.

He was… alright, I guess. He was tall. Taller than most guys at our college. Certainly taller than anyone Aurora had ever dated. He had a slim figure, too slim for Aurora with her gorgeous curves. His expression was of pure high school jock satisfaction. He had that cocky look that was a part of every jerk’s face. In that way, perfect for Aurora. He also had that blatantly stupid look. There were no intellectual thoughts going through his head. His hair was an absolute mess, locks of blond tossed over his forehead and scalp. It was the typical cool hair, but I had to admit it worked on him. He had a strong jaw line but not too strong, just enough. His nose was almost perfectly straight, but it had a slight, very slight bump in it. He had kind of full lips with a hint of a pink blush to them. And his cheeks were bright pink. He was blushing. I tried to find that annoying, but it broke every ill thought of him. I could not think one more bad word of him.

“Hi, Aurora,” he said in a hoarse whisper. Then he faced his shoulder and cleared his throat. “Hi,” he said again. Eric looked inside past Aurora and saw me. He smiled politely, “Hi. You must be Sandy.”

Aurora stepped aside to let him enter. His blush deepened when he saw the various clothes and undergarments strewn across the pale carpet. “Tornado hit?” he joked. Aurora burst out giggling.

“Eric, you’re so funny. Sorry, my roommate’s such a messy person.” Aurora looked to me to back up her story.

“Yeah, Eric. I’m a real slob.” I said dryly, more dryly than I meant to. But Eric nodded, bobbing his head dumbly.

“Nice to meet you, be on your way now,” I said sternly as I turned back to my book.

“See you, Sandy,” he replied.

“Yeah,” I said, not really paying attention. Something about him made me feel strange. He was stupid like all of Aurora’s past dates, but he was strangely attractive. Something made me overlook my usual sour attitude when I looked at him. My sarcasm seemed dull and pointless.
Maybe because he took it in stride.
He was too easygoing. That was the problem, and not anything else.

When they returned hours later, Eric didn’t stay. Despite Aurora’s infinite persistence, he left as soon as she opened the door. I found that odd. I thought I knew his type. Obviously he wasn’t like anyone Aurora had ever dated before.

***

The rest of the night, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning. I didn’t want to wake Bailey so I tried to stay quiet. I just felt so frustrated. Every time I fell asleep, I woke up a second later. I couldn’t get the drawings out of my mind. They were bringing all kinds of past memories up from their resting places. I kept thinking about last year when I couldn’t stand Eric. I had forgotten that. I had told him I hated him, multiple times. He never seemed to notice or care. I don’t know which bothered me more.

So much had changed. The night I had first met him, my visions gained a new clarity. Before they were just dreams of my childhoods of the past. But once I met him, the feelings of my dreams gained a new sense of reality. They tickled the hair on my body and their colors seemed more vibrant, instead of the usual grayed wash. They came with force, building up more and more, taking over portions of my day as well as night in sleep. And they began moving backward in time, screaming for more attention. My visions were calling to me, forcing me to remember.

They seemed to have a will of their own. Sometimes they seemed to be warning me. The visions showed me my recent past when I was beginning to lose my innocence. They were a reminder. They were a warning. They were helpful at times. Other times, they caused problems, interfering in my new life, causing me to live in the past and forget to live life now.

But at this point, most of all, I believed they were helping me. They warned me about Aurora. They brought me closer to Eric. And maybe, just maybe, he would finally be free from her control.

 

The next day, Monday, I left my business math class and began to head back to my room. I had my book bag slung over my shoulders and I walked slowly, doggedly. I felt tired. Awake, but physically drained. I could still function, but my mind hurt. I had been thinking and worrying too much, and a massive headache racked my brain.

I tried to ignore it as I walked along, trying to let my mind rest for a moment. Those tension headaches weren’t causing themselves. My worrying was causing them.
Don’t worry!
I commanded myself. I walked past the library. Almost home where I could sit and relax. Someone called out behind me, but I ignored it. I didn’t know the girl, but I had a small inkling that she might actually be calling to me. I hesitated, then continued on. She ran up behind me and touched my shoulder.

“Hey, wait! Stop,” she breathed. Her freckled face was flushed as though she had been running.

“Um, can I help you?” I asked.

“You’re her!” she exclaimed happily, her long reddish curls bouncing around her shoulders. “I’ve been trying to track you down for days!”

“Sorry?” I inquired.
What was she talking about?

“I drew you,” she began. “Last semester.”
What?
“I drew you sitting on the steps by the dorms? Well, anyway, I was doing a painting of it, and I needed you again. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?” I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about. I remembered the drawing she had made, but…

“Would you please model for me? It will only take like twenty minutes. You can just sit while I draw. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

I nodded. What else could I do? I didn’t have any real excuse to get out of it, and she wanted to draw
me
. Just like before, when it had made me feel so proud, I was beginning to feel honored by it. We turned around, heading for the art building.

“We can do it inside, it’s too cold to do it outside. Brrr! We’d be popsicles!” She was giddy about it. “I was hoping to find you soon. I was just sitting in the studio and I saw you walking.” We stepped into the large building. “I just need to get my stuff.”

I followed her up the long flights of wide stairs that opened to a hallway filled with artwork. This was the same hall I had visited with Eric last semester. His drawing of Aurora was no longer there, and I was glad of that. I didn’t want to see her face. We entered a room filled with drawing tables. She walked over to a table covered in very large sketchbooks. There were two other people in there, one working diligently, the other working furiously. I put my book bag and coat down as the girl picked through her box of drawing stuff.

We set up at the first landing on the stairs. I sat like I had before. She settled in across from me, leaning against the wall and adjusting the position of her materials. “So, I’m Julie.”

“Sandy. I haven’t seen you around campus.”

“Yeah, I commute. I would just die cooped up in the dorms. I heard they each have their own distinct smell. Is that true?”

I laughed. “Yes.”

“Turn your head a little more.” I did as she asked. “There, perfect. Um, could you try to look sad? I called the last piece
Melancholia.
Profound, huh?” She snorted. Little did she know how easy it would be for me to “look sad.”

She continued chatting, “I don’t know, people seem to like titles, but most artists hate them. That’s why you get amazing paintings named
Lake Study Number 5
. It’s hard to think of anything good.”

She continued talking on and on about art nonsense. It filled the awkward silence, so I accepted it happily. She drew, scribbling furiously over the paper, then turned the page and drew some more. She came in close, staring at my face, and walked around me. That part was creepy. It felt like she was a vulture and I was her dying prey. I figured it was just a part of the “process,” but it bothered me anyway. Julie went back to drawing from different angles before deciding where to sit, and then sat in silence, sketching and working carefully.

It was at the point when she put down her paper, looking satisfied, that someone came up the stairs. Eric stared me straight in the face. His expression was unreadable as he said hi
.
Julie immediately showed him her work.

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