Page 45 of Dare to Fall

It wouldn’t matterif I put ten pounds of foundation and concealer on, no amount of makeup was going to hide the puffiness of my face or the redness under my eyes. So I opted for a lighter look and hoped by the time we made it to the exhibit, some of the swelling would go down. Though, by the looks of it, my hopes were probably too high.

In the three years we roomed together, I couldn’t remember a single time when Drema had worn a dress. Most days, she wore some version of paint-covered overalls and a tank top. So when she walked out of her room in a floor-length black dress that cut into a low V in the front and clung to her slight frame like it was made for her, my mouth hung open in awe.

“Well, holy shit, Drema. You’re a vision.”

“Do you like it?” she asked shyly as she twirled around.

“Like it? Girl, no one is going to be able to pay attention to your art because they’ll all be staring at you! It’s gorgeous.” I gave her a hug and took her right hand upward to spin her in another circle. We both giggled as she almost toppled over in her high heels.

“This is such a huge opportunity for me, and I didn’t want to show up in my old overalls since it’s technically black tie. I saw this last Christmas and thought it was too beautiful to walk away from. So, I bought it and hoped I would have a place to wear it to. Now I do.”

“Well, it’s perfect, Drema. There’s no way anyone could miss you in that dress. I’m so excited for you!” I urged my voice to sound enthusiastic against the hurt that still enveloped me, because tonight wasn’t about me. It was about my friend. And no matter how difficult it would be, I wanted to be there for her.

“Thank you,” she beamed. “How’re you feeling? Are you sure you still feel like coming tonight? You’ve been through a lot today.” Concern shined in her eyes as she measured me, looking for any signs of distress.

My chest still ached from the shattering of my heart, and a headache nagged at the back of my eyes. But I would survive. While I was getting ready, I started to think that maybe the pain hurt more from the betrayal than the loss of my relationship. There was a piece of me that always knew something horrible was going on, but I wasn’t ready to really look at it. It was almost as if I had been mourning the loss of my relationship with Connor from the moment he told me he wasn’t coming home to visit during the summer. What I witnessed earlier today just solidified what I knew the entire time: Connor was no longer committed to this relationship.

The truth was, I’d felt broken from that moment. And today, my heart was cracked wide open because of the actions of that selfish man. I felt like a total idiot for not seeing the signs. I was angry, hurt, and confused. I wanted to find Connor and scream at him. I wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me. But I was also tired of caring so much. Years of my life were wasted loving a man who never wanted to get to know the real me. Now, I was so lost thatIdidn’t even know the real me. And I had to pick up the pieces and rebuild my entire life.

But all of that could be saved for another day. Right now, I wanted to have a good night with my incredible friend and support her dream just as she supported me when I needed someone the most. So, I took in a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and tried to compose myself.

“I’m okay. Well, notreallyokay. But I will be. And tonight will be fun. I just need to get dressed, and I’ll be ready to go,” I said before turning back to the mirror and adding the final layer of mascara to my eyelashes.

“Okay.” She smiled at me in the mirror. “I’ll wait out here for you.”

There wasn’t a single piece of black-tie clothing in my closet, so I opted for black leather leggings, a tight black tank top with a velvet, slim-fit blazer, and black strappy stilettos. Hopefully they wouldn’t kick me out for breaking dress code. I didn’t want to cause another scene for Drema’s big night. I’d taken enough attention away from her already.

“What do you think?” I asked as I walked out to the living room to find her sitting on the sofa.

Her brows rose as she took me in. “That outfit should be illegal.”

I chuckled as I tossed my necessary items into a clutch. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” I smirked. “Do you think it’s formal enough, though? I don’t want to get stopped at the door on your big night.”

She shook her head. “It’s black tie for a college campus. I don’t think they plan on strictly enforcing the dress code for an art exhibit. Plus, no one would kick you out looking like that.”

“Well, hopefully you’re right. Are we all set?”

“Yeah!” Drema bounded off the couch and grabbed her small black purse off the coffee table.

As we headed out the door, I took another deep breath in and readied myself for the night ahead. While I was putting my makeup on, I remembered that Garth would be at the exhibit tonight. It wasn’t ideal, given my current state of functioning, but I couldn’t back out on Drema. So, I’d have to put on my big girl pants and do everything I could to avoid Garth Walker.

A soft hue of white light glowed throughout the gallery, and each installment was highlighted with a spotlight. The last time I was in an art gallery was in the eighth grade during a field trip to New York City, and we toured the MoMA. Back then, I was too young to fully understand the gravity of art. I made a mental note to put the MoMA on my travel bucket list.

Waiters dressed in pristine tuxedos walked around with glasses of champagne and hors d’oeuvres. Drema and I weaved through the crowd of people to where her pieces were installed toward the back. I didn’t realize how much the university invested in their art program, but judging by the size of the gallery, I guessed it was a pretty penny.

The room buzzed with conversation. Everywhere I turned, people were dressed in immaculate black-tie attire. Students stood proudly next to their pieces while they discussed the mediums and inspiration behind their work.

For the first time all day, I felt excited. I was so proud of Drema and everything she had accomplished to get to this moment. And I was happy for all my peers who worked so incredibly hard on their pieces. As I looked around at the talent, I felt a spark of inspiration to take the next step with my photography. There was still so much for me to learn, but my heart raced with enthusiasm of all the possibilities.

I tried to think of a time when I had felt this way about medicine and couldn’t recall a single moment. Medicine had always been a bridge between Connor and me. But being here, with all these aspiring creatives, I felt at home, as though I finally found the place where I belonged after being lost for a really long time.

“Wow, Drema,” I said as we walked up to her three pieces. It was like looking into a better version of our world. The landscapes were so vivid yet understated. Each brush stroke was expertly placed, bringing the trees and water to life.

There was a gleam in her eyes, one of pride and fulfillment. “They’re my best work.” A soft smile pulled at her lips. “It’s taken me a really long time to find my voice as an artist, and I feel like I’ve finally seen a glimpse of it. I still have a long way to go, but I’m really happy with these pieces. I just hope everyone else will like them too.”

I took her hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “Of course they will love your work, Drema. Your pieces are breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” she said, beaming at me. “I have to stay here for a while, but you should go check out the other artists. There should be a few photographers’ installments sprinkled throughout. The exhibit typically hosts a variety of artistic mediums, so you can get an idea if there’s anything else that seems interesting to you. And it’s a great networking opportunity.”

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