Devon Hartford - Reckless

After we cleaned up from our shower, we went downstairs.

Spiridon was sitting in the kitchen, sipping coffee. “Good morning, Samoula! ” He smiled from ear to ear. My parents never smiled in the morning.

And I never looked at them ten minutes after having tons of sex. Heck, I don’t think I could be in the same city as my parents for at least ten days after what Christos and I had done upstairs. My face boiled over. Hopefully Spiridon thought it was from the shower. Er, I mean, from taking a shower, alone, like a proper girl. Crap, I needed to run out the front door and drive off before embarrassment caused me to spontaneously combust.

“Hey, Pappoús ,” Christos said. He didn’t seem the slightest bit uncomfortable. “How was Walt?” He walked up to his grandfather, leaned over with an arm around the man, and kissed the top of his head.

Wow, I would never kiss my dad or mom like that under any circumstances. Had I woken up in the Twilight Zone? Without giving it a second thought, I wrapped my arms around Spiridon and gave him a huge hug. “Morning!”

He rubbed my back while he said, “Good morning to you too, koritsáki mou! ”

My embarrassment disappeared as quickly as it had overtaken me a moment ago. I didn’t feel weird at all. Probably because Spiridon didn’t act weird. He probably didn’t even give what Christos and I were doing a second thought. I could easily get used to this.

My parents, on the other hand, would be prodding for cracks in my defenses, snooping around for whatever inappropriate behavior I had most recently engaged in. I was so done with that kind of treatment.

Christos made us breakfast while Spiridon and I sat at the table.

“Walt was terrific,” Spiridon said. “We had a good talk. Mended some fences.”

“That’s great,” Christos said.

What was the mystery behind the history between Walt Childress and Spiridon Manos? I still had no idea. It didn’t seem like any answer would be forthcoming over breakfast.

Afterward, I drove to my apartment in my VW and told the manager about moving out. He told me I had to give a 30-day notice in writing, and I had to pay the pro-rated amount for the days in March I hadn’t yet paid for. Oh well, at least I was moving out.

As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t quit Grab-n-Dash right away, but I was happy to keep my job at the Eleanor M. Westbrook art museum for the rest of the academic year. It seemed like I got more studying done for Sociology and History at the museum than I did anywhere else anyway, so that was okay. I was all about killing two birds with one low-stress on-campus job.

I left my apartment and drove to campus by myself. For the first time since I’d started at SDU, my drive didn’t feel one bit lonely.

I was totally wrapped up in the warm embrace of Christos and his welcoming grandfather. I had never experienced this sense of pervasive peace growing up. My life had always been tense, nervous, filled with problems and worries and frustrations.

I started to wonder if perhaps all those concerns my parents labored under were nothing more than their own creations. It’s not like they were broke, or had major health problems, or dangerous jobs. They just didn’t seem happy. Like they didn’t know how to be happy.

Was it that simple?

I didn’t really know. But I did know that I was starting to feel a happiness and contentment that was worth it’s weight in gold. No, strike that. At this rate, I think my happiness was verging on priceless. I had discovered the greatest treasure a person could hope to find in life.

Unconditional love from my second family.

I was beaming with a huge smile when I parked on campus at SDU and walked to Oil Painting class.

SAMANTHA

My happiness bubble burst when I walked into the Oil Painting studio in the Visual Arts building.

Kamiko had set up at an easel between two other students. Up until the fiasco with Brandsome at Charboneau Gallery, she had always set up next to me and Romeo. Ever since then, she’d set herself up so that there was no room for me or even Romeo.

I felt terrible about the whole thing. I’d tried to apologize to her about Brandsome via texts, emails, stopping by her dorm room, anything I could think of. But she wasn’t ready to talk. All I could do was give her space.

I set up my paints, brushes and palette at a free easel, and saved the space next to me for Romeo. He was running late today. When he finally came in, he set his book bag down next to me and pulled out his supplies.

“Hey, Sam,” he said, somewhat flustered.

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever made it to class before you,” I said in a friendly voice.

“I was up late working on another scene for Playwriting. I had to get it just right,” he smiled. His expression dropped when he saw Kamiko ignoring us on the other side of the room. “I see that Kamiko still looks like a wounded bunny rabbit. Poor thing.”

“Yeah,” I sighed. I had already told Romeo in detail what had happened at Charboneau with Brandon and how he broke Kamiko’s heart. “You told Kamiko I was sorry again, right?”

“Yeah. I’ve told her a hundred times how bad you feel,” Romeo said.

“And you told her that Brandon had totally come on to me? Not the other way around?”

“Yes, Sam,” Romeo reassured compassionately. “I don’t think she’s actually mad at you. More than anything, I think she’s just sad. You know how it is, Kamiko’s so busy with studying, she never gets out, never dates, and that hot bastard Brandsome had to go and send her a bunch of mixed signals on New Year's Eve. She’s probably been making secret wedding plans ever since.”

“Doesn’t she tell you everything?” I asked.

“Usually. I mean, she’s been prattling on about Brandsome non-stop for weeks. But I know Kamiko. I’m starting to think she was holding something back. I guess I didn’t realize how bad she had it for the guy.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Yeah, I’m a little worried about her,” he said. “She’s been secluding herself more and more lately. It’s not good for her.”

“Is there anything we can do?” I asked. “I mean, I know she’s not talking to me, but I want to help somehow.”

“If you’ve got any of that love potion you used on Christos left over, maybe we can trick Brandsome into drinking some,” Romeo joked.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “I wish I did,” I smiled forlornly.

“Wait, I know!” Romeo said. “Professor Bittinger is a witch! Maybe she can stir up a fresh batch in her cauldron!”

I smiled. “Sadly, I think if she knew how to brew potions, she would’ve already used one on Hunter.”

“You’re right,” Romeo sighed. “I guess all we can do is give Kamiko time to get over it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I glanced at the clock on the wall. We still had a few minutes until class started. Professor Cogdill still hadn’t arrived. I looked around the room and saw that all the students were chatting or setting up. All had a lightness of spirit and purpose. Except Kamiko.

She sat on a stool, slumped over, totally miserable. She was breaking my heart. I walked over to her.

“Hey, Kamiko,” I said quietly.

She looked up at me with heavy eyes that revealed an equally heavy heart. She didn’t respond.

“I, um, Kamiko? I just wanted to say again I’m really sorry about what happened. It wasn’t my fault. Brandon came onto me, and when you left I told him what a jerk he was for treating you like that.” I sounded nervous, and the proximity of the other students wasn’t helping. At least they were engaged with setting up, or were chatting with the other students nearby. I wished this conversation had been private, but I hadn’t been able to find a better location. I was desperate.