Hold You Against Me (Stripped 4)

Streaks of purple break the sky in half. Morning is here. I don’t feel rested at all, even though an entire night has passed. Maybe I’m getting too old to visit clubs so late. Without Shane, I won’t have any reason to. That’s probably for the best. I don’t need another night like this.

Today I have studio time reserved at the university. Since I’m up so early I can walk the halls of the university’s art museum. It doesn’t open to the public until nine, but department students can get in anytime.

With a small groan, I push out of bed and check my phone.

There are a bunch of texts from Shane. I don’t want to read them.

Something dark compels me to.

WTF? Where are you? I get fucked up and you run out on me?

At the emergency room. Hope you’re happy.

I cringe a little at that one. Part of me feels like I should have stayed with him, taken him to the hospital, and taken him home at the end. Except he’s the one

who wouldn’t take no for an answer. How messed up is it to want to comfort your own attacker?

At least I have a text from Amy to boost my spirits.

That bouncer was big in all the right places

That pulls a smile from me—and a blush. I’m glad she went back and had some fun, even though my night ended early. I send back a wink emoji. His heart?

You are such a dork. I love you.

The clock reads 5:30 a.m. If she went back to see him after midnight… Why are you still awake?

Walk of shame

A smile tugs at my lips. Didn’t want the big bad bouncer to wake up and see you?

Boys are so needy

After Shane’s behavior last night, I can’t really disagree. Needy, pushy. I’m done with them, I type. While I wait for her to answer, I delete his messages and block his number.

For real?

I know she doesn’t mean all boys. She wants to know if I’m serious about breaking up with Shane. You were right about him.

I’m sorry

Don’t be. I’m over it.

She sends me a sad-face emoji. Do you need help finding a rebound? I know a bouncer.

That makes me laugh. No rebounds, but I do need hair and makeup for this thing tonight. And maybe some wine.

Then I’m your girl. I’ll come over at four.

I set the phone on the nightstand beside the glass of water. An invigorating breeze wafts in from the open window. I might have to leave it up more often. For now, I close the window and flip the lock.

A quick shower strips the lingering anxiety from my dream. By the time I’m dressed in slouchy pants and a purple cami, my hair tied in a wet knot, I’m ready to face the day.

I take a campus bus to the art building and my student ID lets me into the museum wing. There’s a Rembrandt and Van Gogh in here, though not the recognizable pieces. The collection is eclectic, built through decades of different curators and styles. I love turning a corner and finding something new to examine in a painting I’ve already seen.

But this morning I head for a picture I’ve looked at too long to be surprised. My favorite piece in the exhibit. This one was done by a university student, who went on to some acclaim before settling down to teach art at a high school in Toronto. Such a mundane end for an artist who created this, a photography piece. Not my usual medium, but only film could have captured the eerie flash of night, the splash of trees, the faint silhouette of a face framed by leaves and sky.

I see Giovanni everywhere, even here. Sometimes it’s a comfort that I can still remember him. Don’t leave me. Other times grief twists my stomach inside out.