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She eyes me suspiciously before letting it go. “What time do you get off today?”
“My shift ends at three,” I say after sipping my water.
“I wish you didn’t have to work.”
I think Suki feels guilty that her parents are paying for her tuition and bills and that she can just enjoy college and not worry about money while I’m struggling. She does a lot of little things, like buying extra groceries and always getting the kind of yogurt and milk that I like. I notice every single time she does it, and I appreciate her even more for it. But what she doesn’t understand, what I try to keep telling her, is that the struggle is worth it to me. I don’t feel deprived or robbed of the college experience because I have commitments now. I feel … free.
“I’ll be off at two. I have class at two thirty, and I’ll be home after that.”
I glance toward the front to see Sam and his friends leaving with their coffees in hand. Everyone is aware of their presence. They draw attention regardless of where they go.
“Oh, by the way, Sue Bowman wanted me to tell you that the mural looks amazing. She posted it on social, and it’s racked up twenty thousand likes.”
Sue is a sophomore at Sinclair who lived on the same dorm floor as Suki and me last year. We’ve all kept in touch even though we don’t have any classes together this semester.
“Wow, really? That’s awesome!” I respond.
The mural has turned out to be a huge success. My name is at the bottom of the finished product, and I’ve been surprised by how many people have congratulated me on it. People I don’t even know. I painted it on the side of Vibe, a clothing store in the small downtown district, a few short blocks from Sinclair University. Vibe mostly sells T-shirts and sweatshirts with our college logo on the front, but they have a lot of sporting goods equipment too. I had only been in the store one time before, but while I was working on my piece, I witnessed how popular the place is. Especially when the summer was ending and the town became crowded with students again. Regardless, I’m proud of how my mural turned out. And the owner was happy too.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Everyone is constantly telling you how talented you are and how great your work is. Professors, classmates, other artists … maybe one of these days, you’ll believe them.” Suki takes a long pull through her straw while eyeing me over the cup.
“That’s why I keep you around, Suki. You’re always building my confidence.”
“I’m just telling the truth.”
“And I love you for it,” I say, reaching over to squeeze her forearm.
“Emerson!” Ashley yells from behind the counter. “I need you!”
Five or six people have amassed at the front.
I glance back over at my friend with a wry grin. “I guess that’s my cue. Gotta go earn my paycheck.”
“Okay,” she says, gathering up her things. “I’ll see you later at home, roomie.”
Suki leaves as I go back to work. There’s a line when I make it behind the counter. Ashley and I tag-team for the next half hour, handing out pastries and making drinks until all the orders are filled.
“Sam Anderson asked about you,” Ashley says, feigning nonchalance when there’s no one left in line.
I pause for a moment, then continue to wipe down the counter. “Oh, yeah? What did he say?”
“He asked if you were the girl who painted the mural on the wall at Vibe.”
“And what did you say?” I ask, still cleaning.
“I told him I didn’t know. Are you?”
I smile. Ashley and I have worked together for months, but we don’t really know each other beyond surface things. She has never been very interested in going deeper, and I’ve always been fine with that. She mostly talks about herself. She reminds me of my sister in that way.
“Yes,” I confirm.
She looks surprised.
“You know I’m an art major, right?”
“No. I just knew you painted some.”
I’m sure I’ve told her that before, but I’m not surprised she doesn’t remember. Or that she didn’t put two and two together when I told her I was working on a piece.
