Mural
Four
“MELODY, TONY, could I see you please?” Prof McIntyre led the two of us to a corner of the studio where we couldn’t easily be overheard by the rest of the class. We were working with pastels today and the model was the twenty-year-old hippie chick Amy liked so much. She was one of those totally au naturel women who didn’t shave anything. You had to wonder if the hair that hung almost to the waist was from her head or her armpits. Yeah, I joke like that. Actually, she was a very sweet looking woman with one of those willowy figures that makes you think of Galadriel or something. I wasn’t happy being called away from my easel.
Prof had our drawings in front of her. We handed them in on Monday and figured we were way ahead of the rest of the class because that phase of the project wasn’t due until today. We were almost finished with the whole project after our weekend. We really did do some work besides just falling into bed with each other every couple of hours.
“These are nice work from both of you,” Prof began. I could just hear the “but” that hadn’t yet been spoken. “Unfortunately, they won’t be usable for your final project.” Both of us gasped and looked at each other. “How far are you with these paintings?”
“Nearly finished,” I answered.
“You’re working ahead.”
“Is that a problem?”
“In this instance, yes. This is a process project. I’ve no doubt that the pieces you are painting are excellent works of art. You both show incredible talent and as long as you both have model releases from each other, I can’t prevent you from displaying them in the end-term exhibition. But they won’t do for the final project.”
“Professor, why can’t we use these?” Melody asked. “We worked hard on them.”
“You’ve noticed the sketches displayed around the room and know that they are all of Mrs. Hirt, correct? Those are the sketches from last year’s final project. I retain the sketches for the next year’s class to see. Part of the project is that everyone uses the same model and works on discovering something unique in her. I’m going to cover that with the rest of the class in a few minutes. The assignment due today was for a concept sketch, not a finished drawing. Next week, we will have the model here for each student to set an appointment to sketch. You pose the model for your work, have fifteen minutes to complete your sketch, and then the next student steps in. I’ll accept these as concept sketches from you, even though they are way too polished to qualify.”
“Oh.” There really wasn’t much else we could say. We had been told to bring a concept sketch for the class. I could just imagine trying to pose old man Johnson on the sofa with a bunch of grapes if he was our required model.
“Now come join the rest of the class. I’ll make the full announcement.”
“Can you believe she’s coming back? This will be so cool!” Amy practically screamed as we walked to lunch.
“I know you two like her. She really is like your friend, isn’t she, Tony?” asked Sandra.
“Well, yeah. We play racquetball.”
“She’s teaching me,” Melody put in. In fact, we had a session with her scheduled this afternoon. I had to admit that I was looking forward to seeing her naked on the model dais again. Of course, this time I had something more tangible to compare her to. Melody and I had been in each other’s bed at every opportunity this week and were looking forward to the weekend, even though we both had a crazy lot of homework to do before midterms.
“How’d you guys get into that club?” Amy asked. “I heard it was pretty exclusive.” Pricey, I thought.
“My dad thought I needed more exercise,” I confessed. “I was pretty much a wreck first semester. I guess it did help.”
“So what’s the story with you two?”
“Sandra!”
“Oh hush, Amy. You know that’s the question you really meant to ask. Every time we see Tony or Melody this week, we see Tony and Melody. Are you two a couple now?” We looked at each other. We weren’t really hiding it, but now we were going to openly declare it.
“Umm… yeah. I guess so.”
“Damn, Melody. How’d you get so lucky? I had my eye on Tony!” Sandra said. I nearly spit Coke out my nose, but before I could respond, Amy was echoing almost the same words.
“Damn, Tony. How’d you get so lucky? I had my eye on Melody!” Melody wasn’t able to prevent choking on the burger she was eating. It took us a minute to make sure she was okay before both Sandra and Amy burst out laughing.
“Got ’em!” They chorused and high-fived each other. We blushed, I guess. But I wasn’t about to let them get away clean with this. I turned and planted a sizzling kiss on Melody that took her so much by surprise she kept her eyes wide open staring at me through the whole thing. It didn’t stop her from returning the fervor, though. When we parted from each other, I turned to the other two.
“Eat your hearts out, girls!”
“Tony, why don’t you warm up for a few minutes on the court while I work off-court with Melody,” Lissa said when we got to the gym. “Then you can return a few of her serves while I coach.”
I don’t know if you’ve played racquetball. It’s not all that uncommon to warm up or to practice alone, even though typically there are two people and sometimes even four on the court for matches. They play doubles racquetball, too, and it can get pretty dangerous with four people swinging racquets around in such a small space. But I really enjoyed my alone time on the court. After I warmed up a little, I started really getting into the groove of firing the ball into the wall, over and over again. When I was really depressed, I’d sometimes work so hard on the court that I could hardly move when I left.
Getting laid regularly was a great antidepressant, but it put a real crimp in study time and I was falling even further behind in a couple of classes. Added to that, it was downright crappy that we wouldn’t be able to use the pictures we’d painted for our final. It really pissed me off, even though Melody and I wouldn’t have had the incentive to get together last weekend if we hadn’t jumped the gun—and each other.
I kept beating the ball harder and harder and sweat started dripping off me as I thought about it. It just… Made me… So… Damn… Mad… that we couldn’t use our paintings for the class. It was just another thing that was wrong with college. My favorite class and I’d fucked it up, too. I’d never been punished for working ahead before.
The ball finally got away from me and I turned to retrieve it. Outside the glass back wall, Melody and Lissa were watching me. Melody had her mouth absolutely hanging open. Lissa had a puzzled look on her face, but moved to open the little door to come onto the court.
“Is it safe?”
“Um… yeah. I was… just… warming up.” I was drenched in sweat, dripping off my nose onto the floor and panting so hard I couldn’t speak. Lissa tossed me a towel. I wiped down and then looked around the floor to mop up any puddles that might make it slippery.
“I’m kinda glad I wasn’t in here to take that ass-whipping you just delivered. What got into you?”
“I was just a little frustrated. Sorry.”
Melody poked her head into the court.
“Can I come in?” I motioned her in and she came straight up to me and kissed me. It wasn’t a big passionate kiss, but it was nice. Real nice. “Ew! You are soaked. I didn’t know you could play this by yourself.”
“Like many things, you can do it alone but it’s a lot better with two. Or three.” Lissa said. I glanced at her and she was smiling smugly at her intended suggestive remark. I wasn’t sure Melody got it. “Tell me about what’s got you so upset, Tony.” I leaned back against the wall and slid down it until I was sitting on the floor. I groaned. Lissa and Melody camped right next to me. We had the court reserved. There was nothing in the rules that said we couldn’t have a break while we weren’t playing. So I started by saying that I was mad because we couldn’t use the paintings we’d done of each other. I don’t know why, but suddenly everything came unplugged and I just poured out all my frustration with school, my classes, my life, and the failed project. To their credit, neither Melody or Lissa interrupted me or made any attempt to cut me off until I’d vented everything. When I finally wound down, I saw that Melody had tears running down her cheeks and I was struck with sudden pangs of guilt for being so upset when everything between us was so good.
“Tony, have you talked to a school counselor or any of your professors about this?” Lissa asked.
“What could they do? It’s my problem. I made a mistake coming here. They can’t solve it for me.”
“So you figure you have to face everything alone?”
“I’m nineteen. I’m supposed to be an adult.”
“So that’s the magic age! I missed it.” Melody and I both looked at Lissa trying to figure out what she was talking about. “I think I skipped nineteen. I’d been on the road as a model for six years and before I was nineteen I had a baby. I never did get to the point where I felt like I was an adult and could solve my own problems. I always had to have someone help me.”
“On the road?” Melody asked.
“Lissa, you’re an adult. You’re married and have kids and everything.”
“I have two great kids and an ex-husband. I also have a good shrink who listens to me for an hour a week while I dump out my frustrations, and a racquetball partner who bears the brunt of my physical outbursts on the court. That’s you, by the way, in case you were looking for someone else. Even when my marriage was falling apart, though, there were people around that I could talk to who helped me through, whether it was watching the kids, referring me to a good lawyer, or even making my travel arrangements. I never became an adult who could do everything by herself. I really admire you, Tony.”
“Even I can tell that was sarcastic,” I mumbled.
“Don’t you like what we’ve got, Tony?” Melody’s voice was scarcely above a whisper, but in the straight-walled enclosure of the court it echoed—or maybe it was only in my head that it was echoing.
“I love what we’ve got, Melody. This week has been the brightest spot in my entire year—my life—until our meeting with Professor McIntyre today. Then I felt like I was a naughty little boy being disciplined by the teacher. And… well, I guess I’m not really sure what we’ve got. Don’t get me wrong. I love the um…” I glanced at Lissa. “You know.”
“Sex,” Lissa supplied.
“Um… yeah. But I don’t know what kind of relationship we have. We haven’t really talked a lot about that.”
“We’ve kind of had other things to do when we get together.”
“Sex,” Lissa repeated.
We finally both looked at her and giggled.
“Yeah. Really, really great…”
“Sex.” Melody finished my sentence. We all laughed. Man it felt good just to get all that out and talk about what’s going on.
“All right, look, you two. First off, nothing ever gets better all at one time, but it does get better. Sex is great. In fact, it’s better than great. But Melody, did you even know Tony was feeling like this?” Melody shook her head. “You guys need to talk some besides jumping each other.”
“We have so little time together,” I complained.
“All the more reason to use some of it to connect in some way other than genitally. Don’t get me wrong. You’re probably both getting a lot of comfort and relief from sex, but it might be increasing your stress level, too. If you think you might want more than sex later, you’d better find out if you both have the same expectations. Otherwise, I give this about a week more, tops.”
“Geez, are you a psychiatrist, Lissa?”
“No.”
“What do you do?” Melody asked. I think she was trying to give us a break from the intensity of our discussion. It worked and I appreciated it.
“I’m a fashion buyer at Forever Lilly.”
“The clothing chain? Wow!”
“It’s really not as glamorous as it sounds, but it is pretty fun. It’s where models go when they can’t make it on the runway anymore.”
“I knew modeling for our class wasn’t the first time you’ve modeled.”
“No, though usually I had to ‘work the dress’. It’s a little different when you don’t have clothes on, but not much. At one time, Playboy would have paid a bundle for photos of what you’ve been drawing.”
“I bet they still would,” I said. Melody looked at me and I could feel myself turn red.
“That was a long time ago. I married my agent when I was eighteen, was a mother when I was nineteen, and by the time I divorced four years later, I had a house, two kids, and depression. I needed some serious help getting my life together.”
“But that means you’re only, like, not even thirty! I thought you were a lot older,” I blurted out. Lissa frowned at me.
“Thanks. I think. Do I look like an old lady to you?”
“No! You just act so mature and you’ve accomplished so much,” Melody helped me out.
“And you used to be the Senior Women’s Racquetball Champion.”
“Well, I don’t know where you got the ‘senior’ part. I’m only twenty-six. Or ‘used to be’. I’m the current Women’s Open National Champion. I won it in October. I just don’t make a big deal about it.”
“Why do you even bother to play with kids like me?” I asked.
“Tony, I like playing with you. A lot. You’re fast, energetic, and dedicated. You’ve got spin that I don’t see among most of my competitors. I should ask you why you aren’t competing.”
“Like I’d stand up against that kind of heat. I can’t even beat you.”
“Bet you could beat everyone else who plays here, though,” Lissa said. “Think about it. Who do you lose to at this club besides me? No one. You’re the best training competition I can get here.”
“Wow, Tony! That’s so cool. I knew you were good, but I didn’t know you were that good.”
“If you had any doubts, that last solo skirmish should have canceled them. Melody, you might not know how hard it is to return your own kill shots. Tony kept that ball flying for about thirty volleys. And it just kept going faster. I’m serious. You’d wipe me up if you played like that against me, Tony.”
“Thank you, guys,” I said. “That makes me feel better about everything but school. But it’s a lot.” Between exhaustion from my workout and being drained from venting, I was beginning to sag.
“Our court time is about up,” Lissa said. “Tell you what. You go relax in the hot tub and I’ll go try to seduce your girlfriend since she got to you before I did. Sounds like a fair trade, doesn’t it?” Melody’s eyes popped open like she’d lose her eyeballs and I got an instant stiffening in my shorts. “Look, Melody,” she said, leaning over to blow in her ear. “I think he kind of likes that idea. You’ve got a kinky boyfriend, lucky girl.” Melody looked at me and I saw a smile creep across her face as she pointedly looked at my crotch. Then she did what neither Lissa nor I expected. She turned and planted a smoldering kiss on our racquetball mentor.
“Oh, my! I need a shower,” she said as she stood up. We all got up to leave and I noticed the two guys standing outside waiting for their court time. As we left the court they grinned at us. It took a long time in the steam room before I remembered to be depressed.
Wait! Lissa complained that Melody got to me before she did?
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