35 | surprise, surprise

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CHAPTER 35

I let out a rushed exhale as I lifted the third and last canvas into the large van, my arms groaning in protest.

Since when were paintings so heavy?

I dusted my hands and stepped away from the van, admiring the words inscribed on its exterior.

'The London College of Art'

A smile touched my lips.

The day had finally come, and I couldn't ignore the butterflies that I could feel fluttering around in my stomach.

It had been two weeks since my last shift at the cafe since I took a little break to get everything organised for the art exhibition.

The art exhibition that was happening tonight.

Those butterflies grew a little bigger as that thought settled in my head, inciting the kind of anticipation that I could feel down to my toes.

"Bye!" I waved to the random old man in the driver's seat of the van, too caught up in my own excitement to cringe at my behaviour.

The crooked smile that he gave me went perfectly with the cap on his head - both looked a little close to falling off.

He sped off in the van with my paintings in tow, set on his route to the gallery. Since there were only a few hours until it was opening, I assumed that almost everything had been set up already.

My only job - according to the email that had arrived a few days ago - was to 'be there and watch as people appreciated my work'.

I bit my lip as it occurred to me that for the first time in a long time, I'd be able to dress up for it.

The gallery had sold my paintings to an anonymous buyer for a ridiculous sum of money - far more than I had even expected when I agreed.

All I knew was that each of them would be sent to the buyer after the six week exhibition, and I could only hope that they would be loved and appreciated.

The thought of my paintings being displayed in somebody's house put a smile straight on to my face.

But then it fell altogether when I thought about the second half of the email.

They had mentioned that the turnout for today's exhibition could be close to one hundred.

One hundred.

Nerves that I didn't even know I had were suddenly appearing, my heart beating a little faster whenever I thought about it for too long.

I knew that I could paint.

Or at least, I thought I could.

But there was something so unnerving about showing your work to anybody, let alone almost a hundred people.

What if they all hated it?

I shook that thought aside before I could let myself get lost in a haze of 'what if's', choosing to turn around and head into my apartment instead.

I was met by the metallic hum of a phone call as I walked through the apartment, changing route to pick my phone off the table.

My eyes found the Caller ID and the happiness that washed over me was immediate.

It reminded me of a wave, but the kind that you just didn't really mind getting a little soaked for.

My index finger reached up to feel my lips as a smile stretched across them, and I accepted the call.

His voice was sleepy, but in that raspy way that had goosebumps rising on my skin. "How are you feeling?"

I could feel my browns furrowing a little.

Gabe usually greeted me with a rogue song lyric or random musing, and this was neither.

Until I thought about it and...

"You remembered." I breathed, touched that even though I hadn't mentioned it a lot, he knew how important today was to me.

"Of course I remembered, gorgeous. I'm sorry that I can't come see it." Gabe's voice came through the phone, deep and genuine.

We had been pretty much been inseparable over the past two weeks, seeing each other whenever we could.

So I knew that it would be irrational for me to be upset about today when it was just one of many.

I tried to keep the wistful note out of my voice. "Don't worry about it. Go do your thing."

After all, he had the most important match of his basketball career in less than three weeks, and had to practice constantly to make up for it.

It just sucked a little. I wished that he would be there to face tonight with me.

He stayed on the line for a little longer, talking to me about everything from the kids I'd helped him with weeks ago - it was now Jake's turn apparently - to his mum, who was supposedly begging for us to visit her again.

"I'll see you tomorrow and you'll tell me everything." He promised sweetly when we were done, easily putting my mind at ease. "Bye, Candyfloss."

"Bye, Gabe." I said softly.

I had to fight the urge to blurt out something random and keep the call going, not ready for him to leave just yet.

But of course he had to hang up, and I was met by a heavy silence as soon as he did.

I set the phone back down, letting my thoughts roam as I walked.

My mood started to lift again once it occurred that I wouldn't be braving tonight completely alone.

Lucy was coming with me.

And just as that thought entered my head, there was a knock at the door.

Right on cue, I thought with a smile.

I twisted the knob until the door opened and she walked straight in, armed with what could only be described as every single dress in the world.

There was no exaggeration when I said the pile in her hands was halfway up to the ceiling.

In all fairness, the ceiling of my apartment was pretty low. But still.

We had gone shopping together a few days ago in preparation for today, and I'd assumed that she'd only had one dress in the bag that she was carrying as she walked out, like I did.

Like every other person would.

But no.

She had practically bought every single one that she had picked up.

She claimed that the ones she didn't end up wearing would be returned, but I didn't know whether I believed her or not.

Lucy was the most clothes-loving person I knew, and Danny was only too willing to fund her obsession.

"I just want to know how you got him to pay for all of this." I said, staring at the pile in disbelief.

She turned to face me and opened her mouth to answer, mischievous gleam in her eyes.

I could already tell where this was going so I placed my hand over her mouth, shaking my head as I fought a smile. "Scratch that. I don't want to know."

She shrugged with a grin, moving to put one of the dresses on.

"I don't know how I feel about this one." She said, twirling around in a crocheted dress with colourful stripes.

It was giving me a headache as I looked at it, and I was pretty sure that it would have a similar effect on everybody else.

But I didn't have the heart to say that, so I settled on a feeble, "Uh... let's try the next one."

She tried three others before deciding on a satin dress in a dark orange colour that pooled around her body.

"That's it. That's the one." I said the second she put it on. It looked amazing on her.

She looked away from the mirror in front of her and at me, hands resting on her knees patiently. "Your turn."

She was talking about the dress that I'd bought but refused to show her until now. I'd wanted it to be a surprise.

I shyly took it out of the bag that I had been hiding it in, unfurling it until the mandala pattern became visible.

The soft hum of approval that escaped from Lucy once I'd put it on just confirmed what I already knew.

I'd nailed it.

From the lace detailing that skimmed my chest to the fabric that melted against my body like a second skin, it was perfect.

And best of all, it was a perfect inbetween on the effort front.

Dressy enough to show that I'd tried, but not so dressy that I came across as superficial.

After all, I wanted all the attention on my art - not me.

At least I knew that I would be sharing the space with around ten other artists, all of whom had also created three different pieces.

That way, the focus would be spread between each of us.

"Gabe is one lucky man." Lucy said as I twirled around, my cheeks heating from the compliment.

But it was bittersweet, since her comment just reminded me that the person I'd really bought for wasn't even going to see it.

I put that thought to the side with a small smile, deciding to hone in on the excitement instead.

"You ready to go?" Lucy asked, spinning her car keys between her fingertips.

That flurry of butterflies started up again, but my answer was still the same. "Let's do it."

- - -

Holy...

"Shit." Lucy breathed, voicing my thoughts. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as they took in the building that lay in front of us.

I couldn't blame her. I was frozen in place too.

I had already seen pictures of the gallery.

After all, I'd needed to do my research before I accepted their offer all those months ago.

Yet somehow, the real thing blew the image that I'd had in my mind out of the water.

Tan bricks moulded into long columns that stretched the entire length of the building. A single golden arch sat regally atop the brickwork, demanding the attention of each and every single person that walked past.

And my favourite thing of all, the colourful flags billowed down from the gallery's peak - announcing today's exhibition.

It looked like something straight out of a catalogue.

After the few minutes that it took for me to snap out of my trance, I began to walk up to the gallery's entrance with Lucy at my side.

"Cora, right?" A smiley brunette wearing a badge with the gallery's logo on it began to speak before we had even stopped walking.

I nodded, smiling back. "Yep."

She launched into an explanation about how even though I was one of the artists being featured in the exhibition, they still wanted me to experience it as though I was seeing everything for the first time.

And I pretty much would be, since I had no idea what the other artists had created.

She finished by handing us both 'admit one' tickets, gesturing to a large area beyond my line of vision which she named as the reception. We were instructed to wait inside it for the ten minutes that it would take before the exhibition finally opened.

But what I hadn't been expecting was for the reception to be full to the brim.

People were jostling each other left and right, creating a ripple effect that I'd only ever seen at the beach.

I had to softly muscle what I guessed was about thirty people out of the way before I even found enough room to breathe properly.

Lucy, who had been next to me throughout, was now nowhere to be found.

What on earth?

Even just by looking around, I could tell that this was a lot more than the 'close to one hundred people' the gallery had been anticipating.

I held my ticket firmly between my fingertips, drowning out the people around me until the furry red ropes that led into the exhibition were lifted.

My lips parted in awe once they were.

Glossy white paint stretched from floor to ceiling in what had to have been one of the largest rooms I'd ever been in.

My heels clicked against the hardwood floor as I slowly began to walk, admiring the sheer variety of pieces.

The paintings, hiked up high along the wall in classy frames.

The mosaic tile at the furthest corner of the room, catching the light that came from the single window.

And the sculpture in the centre of the floor, providing a change from the mostly 2d art.

The first piece in the lineup was by an artist called Lily Kim, a name that I recognised from the gallery's website.

It was a simple painting of a small boy and his mother holding hands, but the stark contrast between them both was what gave the piece a life of its own.

Where the mother had a face pulled together with smooth dark skin, the son had pale milky cheeks and a face the same shade as chalk.

Where the mother had eyes so intensely brown that they were almost black, the son had eyes that were the same green as the trees we drove past to get here.

I gave each piece that I walked past that same amount of attention, pausing to appreciate all the details.

But there was such a ridiculously large gap between each one that I had already tired myself out a little, so I decided to slow down once I reached the next.

Only now, I was face to face with my own painting.

It was the very first one that I'd painted for this exhibition, of a dark-skinned woman and a background made up of an array of random materials - things I'd found in my art cupboard that I thought would look nice with it.

I couldn't help the smile that found its way onto my face at the realisation that it was good enough to stand with the other phenomenal paintings I'd seen so far.

My mind was still coming to terms with that when I heard a throat being cleared behind me.

If it was another one of the irritating people that didn't understand how waiting worked, I didn't know what I'd do.

"Can I help you—" I spun around, my words falling away once I realised who it was that had cleared their throat.

I had never been happier to see dimples in my entire life, and they appeared as he smiled at me. "Room for one more?"

Cora launched herself into my arms, immediately showering me in that sweet, faintly beachy smell that was unequivocally hers.

A stranger's elbow was jabbing into me from behind while I hugged her, no doubt a result of the number of people that had gathered in the one room.

I chuckled as she pulled away, not able to resist the urge to tease her a little. "And here I was thinking you hated me."

Her eyes met mine, letting me see how they'd narrowed a little. "I do hate you. You told me you weren't coming."

I grinned. "Sorry about that. I wanted to surprise you."

The ragging I got from Coach was worth the feeling of Cora's body pressed against mine, even if he did look like he was planning a slow, painful death for me.

I let my eyes drift away from Cora's face and onto the wall behind her, on which a painting was hanging.

I recognised it vaguely from Cora's room, but there were no words for how it looked against the white of the gallery wall, set apart from the other pieces.

To be honest, I'd known she was this talented ever since I first laid my eyes on one of her paintings.

I was just glad that everybody else could see it too.

"So... where to next?" I asked, looking ahead to the paintings I hoped she hadn't yet seen. After all, I did arrive a little late.

She took hold of my arm and pulled me over to a colourful painting of a mother and her child, launching into a speech about how much she looked up to the artist and loved the painting.

I was listening, I swear.

It was just a little difficult to focus on anything but her.

Did she even realise beautiful she looked as she spoke, with bright eyes and a genuine smile?

How eyes had been following her as she pulled me around the room, blissfully unaware?

But I already knew that the answer to both of those questions was no, and it was one of the best things about her.

She leaned forward to stare at the next painting, barely exposing the slope of her neck  as she faced away from me.

"... and you can tell by the strokes..."

I remembered what the skin there had felt like to kiss, smooth and soft under my eager lips.

"...only when you have a specific brush..."

I remembered the little sounds she'd made as I did, soft pants that spurred me on as she buried her hands in my hair.

...and then we add little sausage rolls to the frame..."

I remembered—

My eyes snapped back to her face once that last sentence registered in my brain.

She had gone from facing the painting to facing me, the amused sparkle in her eyes letting me know that I'd been busted.

"You have no idea what I was talking about, do you?" A knowing smile had spread across her lips.

I could feel the corners of my mouth lifting as I fessed up. "No clue. I was too busy watching you."

Cora took in my words slowly, and I watched her as she did.

Dark eyes that flitted across my face, searching it.

The way they heated momentarily as she stared me down.

And then the shy smile that spread across those lips, telling me that she had finally accepted it.

"Why were you watching me?" She asked, but I could tell by the gleam in her eyes that she pretty much already knew why.

She just needed to hear me say it, and I was only too happy to oblige.

I smiled. "Because I like your dress."

That was an understatement. I liked the thought of peeling it off her a little more.

"And you look like you should be in one of these paintings. Not the person who created it." I finished.

That gleam in her eyes began to melt into something else as she stared at me.

Softer.

It felt familiar, but I didn't have time to dissect it since the ocean of people began to move, pulling us further down the room and past every single piece.

Cora gave me a cute little analysis of each one as we went, her passion for all things art related shining in her eyes as she spoke.

Somehow, two hours had already passed and the exhibition was closing for the day.

According to the reception desk that I had to buy my ticket from, opening night was made purposefully short since the number of people that attended was so high.

We took a while trying to weave through the crowd that was surrounding us, ducking and swerving people that would pop up out of nowhere.

As beautiful as the gallery was, I was beginning to grow impatient. There was nothing I wanted more than to leave and be able to spend time with Cora alone.

People finally started to file out under the watchful gaze of a security guard, gushing to themselves about how great the exhibition was.

I couldn't help the feeling of pride that buzzed through me as I watched Cora take in their finishing reactions, her eyes bright and face flushed as if she still couldn't really believe it.

That's right, gorgeous. That was all you.

My hand reached out for hers as the number of people in the room began to thin, leaving us with a clear pathway to exit with.

I saw her head turn from my peripheral vision as we walked, and I could tell that she was letting everything soak in one last time.

That is, until she stopped walking altogether.

Protests started immediately from the people behind us, irritated grumbles that weren't all that quiet.

I resisted the urge to turn around and tell them to give it a bloody second, choosing to face Cora instead.

"Why'd you stop?" I asked, the question written in my expression.

She didn't give me a response, and my attention was drawn to the drastic change in her demeanour.

Her gaze was fixed on something in front of us, lips ever so slightly parted.

Then her grip on my hand began to loosen, arms eventually falling to her side robotically.

What the hell?

I let my eyes follow her line of vision, pausing when they landed on two figures.

A man and a woman.

They both looked more than a little overdressed, with the woman in some sort of gown and the man in a dark suit that was almost too well pressed.

I couldn't understand why these two strangers would produce that kind of reaction in her, scratching my brain for some kind of explanation.

And then it hit me, the reason for her sudden stop becoming ridiculously clear.

Bloody hell.

Her parents are here.

You guys should've known that things were going too well. I love a little drama hehe

Speaking of drama, I've been watching Too Hot to Handle and I'm slightly obsessed. Going to go watch another episode rn

Have a good day/night and thank you for reading <3