Page 48 of Dirty Shots

Chapter Sixteen

Anya

Anya sat through her classeswith little enthusiasm. Her thoughts were occupied by everything Eric Rutherford, from the exhibition that would happen in a week’s time, to telling her parents about the photo shoots, to the way they fucked. When her classes were finished, she resisted the urge to head straight back over to Eric’s apartment. She didn’t want to appear to be the kind of over-eager woman who had no life of her own. Letting him wonder where she was for a few hours wouldn’t do him any harm.

Instead, she went back to her room. She had a mountain of laundry she needed to do anyway, and an essay she needed to catch up on.

Anya’s phone rang. She checked her cell before she answered, and her heart sank. It was her mother’s number.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetie. How are you? Just checking you’re still good to see your father and me next weekend.”

“Yeah, I am, Mom. I’m looking forward to seeing you.”

“We’re looking forward to seeing you, too. We miss our baby-girl when she’s so far away.”

Anya took a breath. “Listen, Mom, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Her mother fell silent for a moment. “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to speak to you about something.”

“Can’t you tell me on the phone?”

“Not really. I’d rather tell you face to face. And there’s someone I want you and Dad to meet.”

Her tone changed. “Well that sounds intriguing. We can always come to the city earlier than the weekend if you really need us. There are a couple of smaller artists’ exhibitions happening over the week that your father and I were considering coming to see.” Anya inwardly cringed at the idea of them coming to exhibitions, though she knew the ones her mother was talking about were too soon to be Eric’s. “The only reason we didn’t was because we didn’t want you to feel like we were trying to smother you, or keep an eye on you. We know you’re a good girl, Anya. It’s not like you need us hovering over your shoulder twenty-four-seven.”

Anya put her forehead in her palm, rubbing at her temples. “You know I wouldn’t feel like you were watching over me. It would be lovely to spend an extra few days with you.”

They might be the last you’ll want to spend with me.

“Okay, that’s what we’ll do, then, and we’ll book a restaurant for tomorrow night, shall we? You can introduce us to this new person you want us to meet.”

“You don’t have to book a restaurant, Mom. We can come meet you at the hotel.”

“Don’t be silly. It’ll be our treat.” She paused. “But you’re sure there’s nothing wrong? You’re healthy?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I promise.”

“Good. I’ll call you when we get into the city.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

Anya hung up and let out a sigh which originated from the bottom of her lungs. She felt sick at the idea of the conversation which loomed in her immediate future. The idea of it occurring in a public place was even worse. Perhaps she could put off telling them until the meal was over and they’d walked back to the hotel? But she didn’t think she’d be able to eat a mouthful knowing what she was about to tell them. Plus, her mother was like a dog with a bone. She’d want to know what Anya wanted to talk to them about. Maybe she could pretend it was her relationship with Eric she’d wanted to talk to them about? She sighed again and lowered her head to join her other hand. Pressure weighed heavily on her shoulders, crushing her. This might be the last time her mom spoke to her without a cold tone to her voice.

Sudden tears filled her eyes, and she blinked them away.

The door opened, and Nadine walked in. She pulled up short as soon as she saw her roommate’s tears, and then hurried over to her. “Anya, honey. What’s wrong? Has that new guy of yours done something?”

Nadine sat down beside her on the bed and put an arm around Anya’s shoulders.

Anya shook her head and sniffed. “It’s not him, not really. It’s something I chose to do.”

“What are you talking about? You’re being cryptic.”

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