A Long Time Coming Ch. 01

Art stepped back inside and picked up his notebooks. He plopped them down on a corner of the table away from the spill and slowly began mopping up his mess checking the door often to see if Lexi would walk back inside. He was nearly finished when a piece of paper sticking out from his notebook caught his attention. It was standard college ruled notebook paper but across its blue lines a picture of a leg from the knee down drawn in black ink stuck out from the pages. Oh. Fuck. Me.

Art dropped the dissolving paper towels into the smeared coffee and walked over to his notebooks. He flipped open his sketchbook to the paper that was sticking out. He always carried a sketchbook with him and usually didn't pay attention to which one he had. He wasn't sure what exactly this leg led to but if it was anything close to what he suspected, he had an awful feeling he knew what had happened to Lexi.

The cover and most of the pages opened to reveal a few pages that had been loosely tucked inside the sketchbook. There were three pictures of not just Lexi but both of them. Both of them fucking. Both of them fucking in this very study room on the very table that was now half covered in cooled coffee.

"Goddammit Art, you moron...you stupid, stupid moron." He berated himself quietly and looked around as if a studio audience would suddenly break out into gasps, oohing and aahing at his misery. Art swallowed and realized he had no idea what to do or how to even apologize for what had happened. His face felt on fire though nobody was around to see it. Heart beating in panic, Art grabbed his stuff and bolted from the room.

Once back at home, he fired off an e-mail to Lexi asking where she had disappeared to, as if he hadn't figured everything out. Her reply came back almost immediately. Art could tell it wasn't the truth and his heart sank. She said had to rush for an emergency and since the project was so close to being finished they could probably do the rest by e-mail. No more need to meet up.

Art picked up his mouse and tried to hurl it at the wall but the cord caught at the attached point behind the computer and it proceeded to wrap around a cup full of pencils and pens scattering them across the floor. He spun away from his computer in his chair and ran both hands into his forehead.

"Damn it Art, what did you do?" He asked himself, eyes shut tight in fear and frustration. Would she tell someone, their professor maybe, surely that was some sort sexual harassment charge or something. Failing class might the least of his worries.

"You made a mess of the pencils and maybe broke your mouse," spoke a nasally voice from the doorway.

"Casey," Art said without taking his forehead from his hands, "leave me alone."

Casey did. Art went to bed. And life went on. No campus police, nor Lexi's father for that matter, burst in to demand Art's head on a stake. At class she seemed to avoid his eye and never spoke to him. Once the project was turned in Art was out of legitimate reasons to continue trying to engage her. It was really over.

A few weeks after the day the projects were turned in, the class ended and Art never saw her in person again while he finished his degree. He saw her often enough on his paper and while it was never, ever enough to make him feel better, it somehow made feel like she wasn't as gone as she could be. And that had to be enough for him for now.

To Be Continued in...A Long Time Coming pt. II: Lexi