It leads me to the massive pit of foam where I stand, fixated. The thought is instant. I go from wondering to doing and within seconds, I’m crashing into a mess of soft foam that sinks below me. I’m laughing, pumped with energy and the desire to do it again as I lie weightless for a few long seconds.
King hits the foam less than a foot from me. His smile radiates to his eyes, and before either of us seems to question or realize what I am doing, I’m clumsily moving, shifting and climbing through the short separation and kissing King.
We spend the entire afternoon and most of the evening jumping, climbing walls, daring to cross bands extended mid-air that promise a cushioned fall of foam, and allowing our competitive spirits to spark through the relay race section. I think I surprised both of us when I beat him the first round. He didn’t make the mistake of taking it easy on me again. I may like fashion and sit with nearly weightless tools for my favorite pastime, but growing up like I did, I can still manage to be a force to be reckoned with.
My muscles are tired, and soreness teases my calves and hamstrings, but I can’t stop smiling. I want to come back and do this again tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. Immersing myself into a world where there is no portfolio competition or modeling practice, I don’t have to fret over my roommate’s sexual activities, or what I’m going to do in a few months when I graduate.
I look over to King as we make our way out to the parking lot; Mercedes and Summer are ahead of us. Sensing my glance, he turns and bestows that radiant smile I have drawn so many times that I now know every single curve and crinkle, and with it comes the feeling that perhaps I don’t need to be bouncing on trampolines for hours to feel this euphoria. Maybe I just need this: King, Mercedes, Kash, and even Summer.
ART HAS always been my main point of both stress relief and stress enhancer. I love sitting down in my private bubble and getting so far lost in my work that the world seems to pass by without even a whisper or trace. However, showing my work to someone and now creating this portfolio to mail off to be viewed and judged to see if I possess the necessary talents to do this internship is keeping me awake at night, requiring additional hours of drawing that I’m starting to feel more prominently in my wrists and hands, and I’m pretty sure the beginnings of an ulcer. Still, it pales in comparison to my long walk down the Knight driveway as I prepare myself to meet King and Kash’s parents and sister. King sprung it on me last night, trying to act nonchalant as he mentioned he was going to be cooking prime rib and to bring my appetite. I smiled, the thoughts of a stay-at-home date brewing in my imagination, and then abruptly blown away with, “they’ll probably arrive before you, but if you want me to come get you”—insert pointed look—“you’d be here first.” I was nervous, expecting him to announce one of the people from Switzerland, or the infamous Spencer, I’ve yet to meet, prompting me to ask who.
“My parents and sister.” He said it so casually, as if this was just a single step forward rather than leaps and bounds. Sure, in Montana I knew the parents of my previous boyfriends, often times their siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, and entire life story. But that’s because I lived in a really small town and grew up with most of them.
My shock must have been evident on my face because King quickly explained they were coming for a birthday dinner for Kash—another fact I was surprised to learn.
It’s cold today, the wind whipping rather than blowing through my hair and the surrounding trees, making the walk seem even longer.
I’m halfway down the driveway when I try to call Charleigh and reach her voicemail. I don’t leave a message because I’m seeking a hit of confidence, one that a later returned call will not be able to soothe. I call Allie and sigh with relief when she answers on the third ring, her greeting sounding almost confused.
“I need your help.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m going to meet King’s family. His entire family.”
“Don’t you already know them all? I mean, you work for his brother.”
Frowning, I lower my head and keep walking against turbulent weather. Clearly she doesn’t understand. “Yeah, but tonight I’m meeting the elusive sister and parental units.”
“You need a drink. Did you stop and take a shot?”
I shake my head, fighting a smile. The gravel crunches beneath my steps, and the wind howls even louder. I might have to take King up on a ride back to the bus station today. My carefully selected outfit that’s intended to show I’m mature and sophisticated, and not a gold-digger, but ready to play because that’s my role, consists of dark denim skinny jeans that feel far too thin to be real denim, and a lightweight purple sweater with an open stitch that requires the use of a jacket.
“No, I didn’t think smelling like alcohol would help my case,” I say with a laugh.
Allie laughs, and I hear the slight rustling that had been present in the background stop. “You’re going to do fine, Lo. Just be you.”
“I’m an artist,” I cry. “They’re going to look at me the same way my parents did when I announced I was going to art school.”
“Lo, Kash is an artist too! Deep breaths!”
“Yes, but Kash is a successful artist.” That word makes all the difference. Anyone can say they’re an artist, but until you’re either published or have works in multiple museums, people say the word artist in a demeaning tone, often accompanied by an eye roll.
“I know. Stop going down that path though. It’s not going to help. Hold your head high, and know you’re just as good as anyone else, artist or otherwise. Our titles and jobs don’t define us.”
I heave a deep sigh. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. And just remember, King chose you, Lo. It doesn’t matter what the rest of his family thinks. It matters what he thinks. Plus, you’ve already got Kash and Mercedes on your side. This will be a cakewalk.”
“I’m glad I called you. This helps.”
“I’m glad you called too.”
“Are you working on one of my dresses?” I hope she doesn’t feel I’m asking out of guilt. I genuinely am interested in what she’s doing and worry that she’s been too focused on work.
“I’m working on the dress that is going to make me go down in fashion world history. You better practice your smile. It’s going to be seen everywhere when they see this dress.”
“Whitening strips, got it.”
Allie laughs, and behind the swishing of the pine branches, I hear the rustle of fabric once again. “You’re going to do great, Lo. If you need anything, call or text me. I’ll be home all night.”
“Thanks, Al.”
“I want to know how it goes. Stop by when you get home!”
I laugh my agreement and hang up. Taking a deep breath of the Oregon rain that is hanging on every surface like a coat of lace, my lungs quiver, still not fully convinced.
The lack of additional cars in the driveway fills me with relief and confusion. Did they decide to go to dinner? Are they late? Maybe they’re like my mom and don’t know how to honor a commitment.
Like every other time over the past six months, I use my key and head inside. Postponing this meeting would be ideal. I don’t feel ready to meet the rest of King’s family, yet it oddly fills me with a sense of disappointment and an even larger dose of irritation. Why wouldn’t they have called to let me know? Is he embarrassed to have them meet me? Did Kash decide it was a bad idea? Questions are swimming through my mind, triggering emotions to fire off left and right, softening the sounds of voices until I’m met with their source. King, Summer, Kash, and Kenzie are standing in the kitchen, their stiff postures reflecting that none of them are comfortable. I stand in the doorway, staring at them as a group, and then slowly each of them individually. Their hair, though varying shades, all has the same chestnut undertones, their skin sharing a dose of additional pigment that reveals their bloodline is from further south on the equator, and while they all look drastically different, there’s a striking resemblance that slaps me across the face. How could I of all people have missed this? I study people’s faces! I have been taught to see similarities, to recognize the minor resemblance they all share. I’ve drawn each of them!