Page 11 of Possession

“Sure.” I lifted the box from the counter and placed it back on the ground.

“One of our regulars is coming tomorrow. He booked the studio last week. I’ll show you how to set everything up.” Chandler’s smile was repentant. Maybe he really would back off.

The boxes were heavy and it only took us three trips to get everything back to the studio. The Gallery was an art supply store and had a huge open space in the back that the owner rented out to the local artists to use. It was perfect for large canvases, and a lot of the local, urban artists rented the place out by the hour. Sometimes we’d even sell the artwork here at the store if that’s what the client wanted. This place was perfect. It had everything I’d ever dreamed of, and I couldn’t wait to test out the studio one day for myself.

I helped Chandler carry a huge canvas to the center of the back wall. It was sixty inches wide by thirty-six inches tall. My excitement spread across my skin in the form of goose bumps. My eyes danced across the blank canvas as I imagined what the artist would spill onto its surfaces tomorrow. I was dying to see the sprawling art, to breathe in the beauty, to see color, alive, and swirled with a talented hand. See life brought to the dull, white rectangle.

“There’s that smile again. You keep it up, I’ll have no other choice than to ask you out every time I see you.” Chandler grinned and I laughed.

I laughed and the sound of it echoed in the empty space. It sounded foreign, as if the music of it didn’t belong to me, as if I hadn’t laughed in months. I hadn’t, not freely, not with actual mirth.

“Thanks,” I said.

Chandler quirked his left eyebrow. “For what?”

“For… for making me laugh, I guess,” I stuttered. I wasn’t sure how I should explain to the guy I worked with that my life had been soundless, boring, not even worthy of gray paint, and the fact that he made me laugh, even if the moment was small, I was grateful for it.

“Well, if laughter is the way to go… then—”

I giggled. “It was a thank you. Not an invitation.”

He ran his hand through his coffee brown hair. His smile was pulled wide. In an easier time I might’ve thought him handsome. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

His advances were mostly in jest, so I didn’t let it bother me. If anything, it was a comfortable routine, and routine was all I had known for the past nine years that I’d been with Clark. Chandler walked me through the list of what the customer had ordered for the next day. He showed me where to find the palette, the brushes, the supplies, even spray paint. By the time we were finished setting up, the store had been closed for over an hour. It was just past eight and I was tired and a smidge starving. Chandler walked me to my car, and it wasn’t until I was tucked inside that he finally felt it was safe to leave. He was a genuine kind of guy, maybe I could set him up with Lana. She needed to stop with the professor thing. I shook my head and puffed out an exacerbated laugh. I reached into my purse, found my keys, started the engine, and turned the A/C on full blast. The heat of the day was thick within the small confines of my car.

My phone vibrated on the passenger seat and, when I opened the lock screen, I saw I had a couple of texts from Lana.

Lana: There’s a package here for you, I’m putting it on your bed. I think it’s from Clark.

My heart leapt into my throat. I hated that he knew where I was, but maybe the papers had been finalized already? I scrolled down to her next text from an hour ago.

Lana: I’m on my way home from class, going to grab a pizza. Want?

Me: Sorry running late, save me a slice.

My thumb hit the send button, and I didn’t bother waiting for a response. I pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. Headed to the mysterious, possibly life-changing package waiting for me.

The house smelled like basil and tomato sauce as I walked in through the front door, laying my bag and keys on the small foyer table. Lana was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed underneath her. A pizza box was sitting open and half empty on the coffee table. The television was on and from what it looked like she was watching porn. Her eyes were fixed on the couple practically conceiving on the screen as she sipped deeply from her bottle of beer.

“Grab a plate, there’s beer in the fridge,” she said as she lowered the bottle from her lips.

“What the heck are you watching?” I asked as I quickly hurried past the television to the kitchen.

“Vampire Diaries.” Her expression fell as if to say I should’ve known this.

“It looks like a porno,” I said as I grabbed a plate and bypassed the beer for a soda. I hadn’t had a drop of alcohol since… since I couldn’t even remember. Probably high school. I never drank. Not even before I’d joined the church. Declan’s father had been an alcoholic, so I… we avoided it, and once I became a member, it was prohibited.

“It’s primetime TV, you Puritan,” she scoffed and moved over a little so I could sit down.

“This is on primetime television?” I asked in horror.

“Well, this isn’t,thisisNetflix, you know Internet, streaming… but yeah, I think this year is the final season for the network show.” She leaned over, grabbed another piece of pizza and looked at my Coke with a scowl. “This weekend, we’re going to Bellows, and I’m breaking your vow of alcohol celibacy… or whatever you call it. We will drink, be merry, and get laid. Preferably by males of the largest persuasion.” She waggled her eyebrows and I rolled my eyes.

“I’m not big on alcohol, I wasn’t even a drinker with–”

“Declan. I know. But you’re past that, right? Declan? Clark? You gotta move on, Paige.” Her tone was soft, sad, and begged for me to accept my fate, my future.

I took a bite of my pizza so I didn’t have to answer. Even though I was slowly figuring out who I’d become over these past nine years, I was past Clark. I wasn’t even sure I had ever loved him, but, Declan, he was the marrow of my existence. Every moment of my life, since that day at lunch, he’d always been the one. But, I’d tainted it. The pizza turned to dust in my mouth, and I swallowed a big gulp of soda to try and wash down the acrid taste.

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