Best Friends Don't Kiss

“The artist’s name is Juliet Seraphina,” I say. “She’s a very popular, up-and-coming artist who made big waves in Moscow, and as you can see, her popularity is spreading across the world.”

He nods at my explanation and glances back at the wall, so I take a quiet moment to soak up her first piece again—a three-dimensional wall work that layers painting, screen printing, and laser-cut wood.

This is Juliet’s signature style, and her past works grew in popularity because of the way she reimagined scenes that focused on the alchemical properties of nature, and things like water, wind, fire, and light took center stage.

This piece, while it still uses her preferred materials, is different.

With a viewpoint from space, she captures the tiny essence of Earth in such a clever, original way.

“I guess that’s supposed to be outer space?” my date asks finally, and I nod with a smile.

“Yes.” I point toward the bottom of the painting. “And that’s Earth.”

“What? That little fucking ball is Earth?”

“Uh-huh,” I answer, after giggling a little. “She’s trying to convey how small we really are in the entirety of the universe.”

“Oh, gotcha.” My date just shrugs and shoves his hands in the pockets of his slacks.

Juliet’s stuff is a little out there for non-artsy people, so I gesture for him to follow me, and we move on to the next installation. It’s much more aesthetically accessible.

He told me that art isn’t really his thing, but he still agreed to go on a first date to a gallery because he knew art was my thing. I owe him the effort to give him a fair chance at finding something he can get interested in.

We make our way through three more artists’ work, but with each one, Mark gets a little more antsy and a little less capable of camouflaging his boredom.

When we reach the back corner of the gallery, Mark spots a small table with drinks and snacks and perks up a little.

“Would you like a glass of wine, Ava?”

I have no desire for wine, but I agree. Just for the hell of it. “Sure. Wine would be great.”

“Fantastic,” he responds, his voice the most cheerful it’s been all night. “I’ll go grab us a few drinks, then. Be right back.”

While he takes an art breather, I move to the next piece. Which, honestly, I think might be Juliet’s best at this exhibition. This work is huge, taking up an entire wall and curving around you in a way that makes you feel as if you’re within the stars. It’s amazing. Truly amazing, and I can’t stop myself from pulling my cell out of my purse, snapping a secret picture of it, and texting it to the one person it makes me think about.

Not even a minute later, my phone vibrates with a response.Luke: That’s incredible!Me: I know, right??? One day, this will be your view.Soon, my best friend will be an astronaut for NASA. And it’s probably only a matter of time before he gets the call and will have to pack up his New York apartment to move across the country to Houston…

The thought makes my chest expand and tighten at the same time.

Of course, I love watching him soar and knowing he’s achieving all of his dreams, but what am I going to do without my best friend across the hall from me?Luke: We don’t know that yet, Ace.Me: You don’t know that yet, but I do. ;) Also, I think I want to be Juliet Seraphina when I grow up. She’s so bold. So confident. And I’m officially obsessed with her art.Luke: The only difference between you and Juliet Seraphina is that you’re more talented.I roll my eyes and type out a response.Me: You’re biased. And you lie.Luke: I may be biased, but I don’t lie. That gallery display could be yours if you’d just believe in yourself like you believe in me.His words urge nerves to balloon inside my chest.

God, I wish I had Luke’s confidence. I wish I had his attitude about chasing dreams, and I wish I believed in me like I believe in him. But it’s so hard.

Which is probably why, instead of focusing on my own art, I got a job focusing on other peoples’ art.Luke: How’s the date going, by the way? Is Marky-Mark and the Funky Bunch everything you thought he’d be?Me: Well, he’s no Mark Wahlberg and I’m pretty sure he hates art, but he didn’t try to get his cat into the gallery, so I’m calling that a win for now.Luke: LOL. Why do you think he hates art?Me: Because he got more excited over the refreshment table than anything else in the room.Luke: Well, you know, sometimes those art galleries serve really great wine…Me: You and I both know that’s a lie.Luke: Yeah. Their wine is shit.