The Artist & The Q.B.

Ch. 2

    I love working in my studio, its small and cramped, but it has the best natural light my little budget can afford. Its not in the safest neighborhood I admit, but it's worth it. I'm getting kicked out of my apartment, so I'll be staying here. I just couldn't give it up. There's no kitchen which may be problematic. However, there is running water and a bathroom. I finish the last brush stroke on my canvas and go the industrial wash tub, rinsing off my well used brushes and my palette. I have an hour until I have to meet Mya to workout, its all about solidarity. Mya's school is on spring break next week so she wants to get as much wedding planning done this week and over break as she possibly can. I guess that includes exercising, something I'm not looking forward to.

    When I get to Truex's house I knock out of courtesy, I would've walked right in if I thought he was gone. I need to find out why he's around so much lately, maybe he got fired? Do football players get fired? I wait a few seconds before the door opens, revealing Truex. Mya must be a couple steps behind him because I hear her short of breath saying, "I said, I'd get it."

Without really thinking about it I ask, "Why are you here all the time? Don't you have football to do?"

"In March?" He asks. From the sound of his voice, I just asked a stupid question.

"Yeah, did you get fired? You were never around, now you're always here." I point out, frustrated with his constant presence.

"No, I didn't get fired." He answers, sounding slightly offended.

"There's no more football until September." Mya explains, enthusiastically. Great, so Tate will be a constant fixture too.

"Oh, that's dumb." I reply, disappointed. "Are you going to move?" I ask, trying to shove Truex out of the way. The giant lump that he is, refuses to budge.

"Say, Please." He orders.

"No way!" I refuse.

"Oh, for heaven sake! Move, Truex. We're going for a run." Mya says, pushing past him.

"She can't go out running like that." He states, like its the most obvious thing in the world.

I look down at my sports bra and shorts. Looking at Mya confused. "She wearing the same thing." I reply, pointing out the injustice. Work-out clothes are work-out clothes in my book.

"Those are pants, those are shorts." He explains, pointing and talking slowly like I'm stupid. "Thats a top, not a bra."

I shake my head. "I can't believe we are even arguing about this, I'm cold-"

"Yeah, I can see that." He mutters.

I narrow my eyes at his comment and continue. "Either, we start running or I'm coming inside." I threaten.

    Truex, backs up out of the doorway, but I look at Mya. Who looks deep in a thought. Whatever it is, its really disturbing. "What?" I ask, almost laughing at the face she is making.

She looks at Truex, and they seem to be having a conversation without saying anything. Which annoys me, because I hate being left out. "You need help." She states, as she walks past Truex. Who just shrugs casually.

"I second that." I agree, moving past him.

"A little help would be nice!" He yells, to her back.

"You're on your own, big bro. I couldn't stomach it." She replies, glancing back at him and holding her abdomen.

I nod, "You need a professional anyway."

"I thought you were a art therapist?" He questions, following us.

"I am, but I'm not a practicing therapist and you need someone with more experience." I respond, walking into the workout room with Truex right behind me. "What are you doing? Go away." I tell him.

"My house. My gym." He states, stubbornly. I roll my eyes and ignore his presence.

After we weigh ourselves we set goals, by "we" I mean, Mya. I couldn't care less. I join Mya on one of the treadmills. "I started my period today." I state, loud enough for Truex to hear. Hoping to get him to leave. He turns to smirk at me, telling me its not going to work.

"Ignore him. What's up?" Mya, asks speeding up her treadmill.

I look over at Truex, he doesn't seem to be paying attention, but with him I never know. Plus, telling Mya I moved into the studio will eventually get back to him anyhow. "I decided to leave the apartment and just rent the studio."

I feel her disapproving stare. "Why would you do that?"

'So I can save for a bigger studio." Continuing my defense I point out. "If I'm not here, I'm painting. Last month I slept on the floor of the studio at least 4 times every week." I don't tell her it's because I worked so late I was afraid to leave in the dark. Not that the single deadbolt on the rotting door would stop anyone who wanted to come in.

"I thought you were selling paintings?"

"I am."

"So, what are you..."  she turns to me. " You, can't send it all home, Briar!" She shouts, angrily.

"I'm not!" I yell back.

"Look, I understand you want to help your mom out. I get that, but she's old enough to get her shit together. You have to take care of you." She lectures. I sigh, knowing she right. I slow my treadmill down, not being able to keep pace with Mya.

"Okay, so you're moving into your studio. Where you currently have no room to move. What else is new?"

"Started my period." I remind her.

"You mentioned that." She laughs.

"Oh, I met a guy last week." I hear, weights bang together loudly making me wince. "He co-owns an art gallery in the city. Looking for new artists, he's coming by to look at my stuff tomorrow at 6. So, I'll call you right after and hopefully I'll have good news. If things go right, I may even be able to get you a wedding present." I say, jokingly.

"Ohh. Moving up in the adult world. Buying gifts." She teases.

"Hey, becoming an adult is hard. Buying you a wedding present is the first step."

"I'm honored." She replies, mockingly.

"How long are we going to do this for?" I question, looking at the clock. Its only been ten minutes.

"Like an hour, I thought." She replies, making me panic inside.

When the hour is over I'm sweating like a pig and definitely smell like one too.

Going over to weigh ourselves, Mya steps on the scale. "I already lost three pounds." She comments, happily.

'To be fair you lose three pounds every time you take your makeup off." I tease. Earning a loud gasp and a water bottle being thrown at me. Truex chuckles as she tackles me.

"Take it back!" Mya demands.

I laugh. "I take it back! You don't even need to exercise you look fine." I point out, in way of an apology.

"We all can't be starving artists like you." She points out, holding out her hand to help me up.

"I actually eat quite well." I correct her.

"Yeah, when your here." She argues.

I nod, chuckling. "True. We're gonna eat now, right?"

She huffs, "Duh. And by the way, I meant I lost three pounds this week." She clarifies.

I look at Truex who continues to smirk. "I seriously think that's the first time I heard him laugh." I whisper to her.

"Probably my third time, ever." She replies, truthfully.