Art & Soul
Page 29

 Brittainy C. Cherry

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“Oh,” he said, dropping his hands and frowning. “Sorry.”
“It’s nothing personal.”
He walked up the steps of the library and held the door open for me. “Trust me. That’s personal.”
16 Levi
I wanted to know more about Aria, the girl who hardly smiled, the girl whose eyes remained sad when she did smile. She wasn’t really one to open up to people. I couldn’t blame her, really, seeing how everyone treated her at school. I wouldn’t have opened up either.
“Okay, tell me what I’m staring at,” I whispered, edging my chair closer to her, but still giving her enough space to feel comfortable.
“I can’t tell you. You have to figure it out for yourself. That’s the whole point of abstract art, it’s different for everyone.”
I nodded, staring back at the blues, yellows, and greens in front of me. To be honest, it looked messy to me, as if a two-year-old had broken into a room filled with paint and poured it all over the place.
But maybe that was artwork to some people.
I just couldn’t see it.
“How long do we stare at it?” I asked.
“As long as it takes for you to see it,” she replied.
“What’s ‘it’?”
“Everything.”
My eyes started seeing doubles of the painting as I went cross-eyed from the overall experience of intense staring. “Okay, well, your turn,” I said, pushing the book in her direction. “You tell me what you see.”
She took a breath of relief as if she’d been waiting for me to ask. The hair tie on her wrist was removed as she tossed her hair into a ponytail. She loosened and stretched out before crossing her legs on the chair and flipping the pages in the book.
She was searching and searching.
Searching for something familiar.
Something that she normally only allowed herself to see.
When she found it, she smiled. Not one of her halfway grins, but a full-blown, toothy, this-is-my-safe-haven kind of grin.
The painting was entitled Grounded Fly and Aria stared as if she was a part of it. Her body slightly rocked back and forth and her lips parted. I stared at her lips far longer than I should’ve, but the way they fell open was almost enough for me to want to press my mouth against hers. I forced my gaze to move elsewhere, and when it found her eyes, I completely forgot about the idea of blinking.
I’d never seen her eyes smile before; they were always so heavy and lost. In that moment, as she became a part of the abstract painting, she freed herself from reality, almost forgetting that I existed. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t have to. I saw what she was seeing as I watched her. The way her body lit with color for the first time since we’d met was indescribable. Part of me wanted to ask her how she tapped into the art, but I worried if any noise was made then she might snap back to reality and her eyes would be sad again.
Mom used to tell me that happiness didn’t last, so a person should hold onto it as long as possible, without questions, without regrets.
We sat there for minutes that felt like hours of peace. Her eyes kept looking down while mine took her in. She was so beautiful. I wouldn’t say the words, because every time I’d given her a compliment, she flinched with discomfort.
But I thought it often. So freaking beautiful.
“Do you see it?” she whispered, her fingertips tapping against her mouth.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. I saw it.
“Aria?”
“Yes?”
“Can I show you something now?”
* * *
I took her to Lance’s music shop, where we were greeted by Daisy as she passed out vegan cookies to the customers. “Hey, Levi! Who’s the friend?”
“This is Aria. She’s my partner for our art and music class,” I said, smiling at Aria. She smiled back. Whenever she smiled, I felt like I was winning at life.
“I’m guessing you’re the art part of the project?” she asked Aria.
“Yes, and he’s the soul.”
“I’m Daisy, honey,” she said, extending her hand out to Aria. “Lance, come say hi to Levi’s school partner, Art.”
Lance leaped over the cash register counter and hurried behind his wife, then wrapped his hands around her waist. “Is your name really Art?” he asked.
“No, but close enough.” Aria laughed.
I like that sound, too.
Lance smiled before his eyes fell to Aria’s stomach. When his eyes locked with mine again he smiled bigger. Turning his back toward Aria, he spoke just loud enough for only me to hear. “Not to dive into the uncool uncle role for too long, but I gotta make sure—Levi, the bun in that oven isn’t a Myers croissant, is it?”
I laughed. “No.”
Lance sighed. “Okay, back to the cool uncle role.” He flipped back around and gave Aria a high five. “Art, nice to meet you. You’re free to touch anything in the store and play anything you want. Anything you break, that fine nephew of mine buys.”
“So break everything?” Aria questioned.
“Oh, I like her spunk,” Lance said, nudging me in the side. “Balls to the wall, my friend. Since you have that badass rocker chick look and are wearing a T-shirt with a badass kitten on it, might I suggest you start with the crazy new, crazy expensive Pearl Crystal Beat 5-piece shell drum set in the display window? Levi tried to play it once, but he sounded like complete shit, and I’m almost positive you can do better.” He handed a pair of drumsticks Aria’s way and told her to have at it.
So she did.
She played like every badass rock star in the movies. She pounded the drums, over and over again, whipping her hair back and forth, losing herself in the whole act of letting loose.
“Whoa,” Lance said, staring at Aria in awe when she stopped. He started a slow clap with Daisy and me joining in. “That was fucking awful. It’s almost as if you walked up to the drums and said, ‘I am going to take these sticks and proceed to kill the fucking joy of music.’ No, seriously, are my ears bleeding? Because I think my ears are bleeding,” he joked.
I couldn’t stop laughing because he was right—it was pretty painful. Aria fell into a fit of giggles.
“Okay, since I’m terrible at the drums, do you think you can play the violin for me?” she asked, gesturing to the violin on display. It wasn’t any violin, but it was the violin that I kind of wanted to marry. A Karl Willhelm Model 64—the best violin in Soulful Things.