Eleven

I WAS GOING TO STOP for fast food at a burger joint, but thinking about the fact that I was in training, I went into the local Larry’s Market to get a salad and some cooked meat from the deli instead. Lissa told me I needed to keep up my protein intake and cut out some of the fats. I wondered if I would ever be able to eat in the cafeteria again.

It was after eight o’clock when I stumbled into my dorm and headed to my room. I was exhausted.

I was not prepared to find Sandra sitting in the hall with her back against my door. She started to speak to me when I walked up but I held up my hand.

“Please don’t ask me where the hell I’ve been,” I said with as much emphasis as my current state of exhaustion would permit.

“I just wanted to check in on you, Tony. I could tell when you disappeared after class that Melody hit you pretty hard. She’s the sweetest girl in the world and a great friend, but she can be a bitch if she doesn’t get her way.”

“Thanks for checking, Sandra. I’m doing okay. I’m sure we’ll talk tomorrow.” I opened my door and stepped through and Sandra came into the room right behind me. I’ve got a roommate, but I haven’t seen him all this term. I think he has a girlfriend he stays with all the time. There’s a half full cup of soup on his desk that’s been there for three weeks.

“Ooo, gross.” Sandra obviously noticed the cup. I shrugged.

“My roommate is a pig. I don’t know; I haven’t seen him in so long he could be bacon.” She laughed. It was a nice sound. We missed our Friday lunch last week because of the long model sessions that Lissa did for Figure Painting. I mean, you miss one and it’s two weeks between meetings. Maybe that’s what Lissa was talking about when I complained I didn’t have friends. I didn’t know where my roommate was. Sandra was standing here and just because I didn’t have lunch with her last Friday, I missed her. I hadn’t said two words to Amy since lunch week before last. And aside from Melody, these were the people I shared the most classes with. I should probably spend some time just catching up. I pulled out my desk chair and slid it over to her and plopped back on my bed.

“Tell me about your week, Sandra. It’s seems like forever since we’ve talked.”

“What? Are you reading that out of my text to you?”

“Huh?”

“I texted you three times today. Didn’t you get them?”

“Oh damn. I got so many text messages today I didn’t get through them all. I was kind of busy.” I pulled out my cell phone and saw that instead of the one message I saw before I took off, there were two more from Sandra that came in while I was working out. ‘Are you okay? I’m here for you,’ was the first one. ‘Seems like a long time since we caught up. Doing anything tonight?’ ‘I’m just going to sit by your door till you get there, so please don’t stay out all night. We need to talk.’

“We really need to talk?”

“What? You think I’m just using it as an excuse to get in your stinky dorm room?”

“I could use a Coke. Want one?” Sandra nodded and I got two Cokes out of my mini-fridge. I should have been drinking water just to rehydrate, but if Sandra wanted to talk, I was going to need caffeine and sugar. I surprised myself when I blurted out, “How’s Melody doing?”

“She’s pissed. She hung around all afternoon hoping you’d show up and then was hurt that you disappeared again. Amy’s with her.”

“Why aren’t you with her?”

“There are only two of us and two of our friends are hurting. I won the coin toss.”

“Friends?” I only hung out with Sandra and Amy at lunch on Fridays. Of course we were in a couple of the same classes and groups of us would get together to study or be in the studio at the same time working on our projects, but we didn’t interact all that much. I rolled over on my side and looked at Sandra sitting on my desk chair.

She was cute. There was no real sexual attraction between us other than the obvious male/female teenager kind of thing. If we were the last two people left on earth, I was pretty sure we’d try to procreate. Probably if we were in the last million or so. She was barely over five feet tall—even shorter than Melody, though plumper. Like most of my classmates, her clothes were black. Hell, so were mine. How pretentious could artists be? There isn’t a mark on the scale for that. I was seriously considering starting to wear Hawaiian shirts and board shorts just to express my individuality. They’d drum me out of the Artist Corps.

Sandra was a little on the round side. Zaftig would be a good word, and no, Margaret Cho, that isn’t German for ‘fat pig.’ Her hair was kind of strawberry blonde and she had the complementary green eyes to go with it. Sometimes you didn’t notice them because she used a lot of eyeliner that took attention away from her eyes.

I guess I’d just never thought about her as really a friend. She was more like an accessory for Melody. But here she was, sitting in my room saying she won the toss and got to talk to me. I smiled a little and just repeated the word. “Friends.”

“I didn’t come here to talk about Melody,” Sandra went on. “How are you doing, Tony?”

“Better now than earlier, but still pretty miserable. I really didn’t mean to hurt Melody. I was so overwhelmed yesterday that I couldn’t think straight and Lissa was there to talk to...”

“Wait! You were sleeping with Lissa? The model? Oh my god!”

“Uh ... I thought you knew. Melody didn’t tell you?”

“All she would say was ‘I trusted her’ and ‘I thought she was my friend.’ She’d never say exactly who she was talking about. Lissa?”

“Lissa is a really good friend of mine. Of ours. She’s really more than a friend.”

“Obviously! Geez, no wonder Melody is so upset.”

“Huh?”

“Tony, you idiot! What girl could compete with that goddess? Melody probably feels like you don’t think she’s good enough or pretty enough.”

“That’s ridiculous. Lissa has been nothing but supportive of Melody and me. She plays racquetball with me. She’s teaching Melody. She modeled for us. She taught us ... stuff. She...”

“Slept with you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like she hasn’t slept with Melody, too.”

“What? Oh my god!”

“Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Sandra, you’ve got to forget I said that. I’m going to kill myself.”

“Before you or after you slept with her?”

“Well, we ... um.”

“Oh my god, together? And then you went to her alone? She’s not only brokenhearted, she’s jealous!”

“Of Lissa?”

“Of you.”

“Why would Melody be jealous of me?” This was way too confusing for my pea-brain to figure out. In fact, I couldn’t figure out how Sandra was getting this. It was like she was some super-conduit for reading Melody’s emotions. “Wait! You mean Melody wanted Lissa?”

“Duh!”

“That can’t be right. I’ve got to go talk to Melody.”

“She won’t see you right now. She’s pouring her heart out to Amy. Why do you think I’m here?” Sandra got up and set her Coke can on my desk then came to stand right over me. “I’m here to be your friend.” She began stroking my forehead. It really felt nice. It was so soothing and comforting. I got to thinking about how Mom would touch my forehead when I was sick as a kid. I was sick.

I was sick in the head. I couldn’t turn my mind off and I kept getting more and more depressed. But Sandra was telling me everything was all right. My eyes drifted closed. Her fingers massaged my scalp and ran down the back of my neck. “I’m here to comfort you.” I wasn’t sure that was what she said, but her hands had moved to massaging my shoulders and then down to my pecs.