I'm Just a Kid That Tried Too Hard

“SEGS!” Brad calls to his young friend as he walks through the apartment three days later, “What are we doing ton- Why are you all dressed up? Hot date?” He asks as he throws his shirtless body onto their couch. Seguin looks around, extremely uncomfortable that he’s caught going to his best friend’s ex-girlfriend’s art show. He looks everywhere but at his expecting friend, “Something like that yeah. I thought you had a hot date of your own?”

It’s Brad’s turn to look uncomfortable, “I…I did. I called and canceled about an hour ago. She was such a ditz.” Seguin gawks at his friend. That’s what Brad usually wanted! He would seek out a hot airhead, bring her home and bang her, and kick her out the next day! Tyler laughs, “I’d invite you along to mine but-“

“Great! Thanks Segs!” Brad hops up and goes to put a shirt on but Tyler clears his throat. Devin would be so mad if he brought Brad. It would ruin her night. She would think that we had set her up and cornered her into talking to the guy. He couldn’t do that to her on her night. Any other night he would, but not tonight.

“Brad you can’t. Devin wouldn’t be happy.” As soon as Tyler says the words he knows that they’ve come out wrong. It’s not like he was Devin’s date. He’s just going to support his friend! His older friend’s face darkens, “DEVIN is your date?” Tyler tries to back track but Brad won’t have it. He grabs a shirt and storms out of the apartment without another word.

Tyler sighs and runs his fingers through his short hair. That was not how things were supposed to go.

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I’m nervous. Actually, nervous doesn’t even describe how I feel. I’ve never really put my art out there before. It’s something that I had always done for me, to make me feel better. I’ve never been good with showing people because I’d be afraid of what they would say. So to call this night important is an understatement.

Greg touches my elbow, “Devin, are you okay?” He drove with me while Bergeron is picking Seguin up and coming a bit later. The drive up had been pretty silent and I think Greg had caught onto my nerves. I shake my head, not really trusting my voice. He puts his glass down on the small raised table next to him and rubs my shoulders from behind.

I’m thankful for his actions. Then after a moment when I open my eyes again, I see Ross staring at me with a raised brow. I suppose that to everyone else this a very intimate thing to have a guy do in public, especially with Greg whispering encouragements to me sweetly. I inconspicuously shrug out of his hold with a pleasant thank you. He doesn’t seem to pick up on my sudden change of mood.

I mean it when I say we’re just friends. There would be so many things wrong with that picture if it was anything else. I don’t care how unbelievably attractive he is.
I spot the other two guys talking to Ross and Ariel. I’m so happy that they all get along nicely. The first time Ariel met Patrice she flirted like crazy until I discretely pulled her aside and told her that, unfortunately, the man was in a relationship.

My instructor, who for once isn’t in some sort of boho/indie get up, clinks his glass and everyone goes quiet. “I would like my students to assemble behind me, please.” I start to move forward but Greg grabs my hand. I turn back and he mouths a ‘good luck’ to me. I smile back and squeeze his hand before being released. I scramble up to the small make shift stage that has been assembled. Ross shimmies his way over to me before Mr. Reys, the teacher, continues.

“Well, I would first like to thank all of you for coming out tonight to support the next generation of America’s artists. We are all thankful. Secondly, I know that some of you may have your minds already made up about what piece you would like to cast your vote for, but please, hold off for just a few more moments. I would like my students to each tell you a little about their piece and why they decided to go with what they submitted.”

My throat tightens. What? This was never part of the deal. I didn’t know that I was going to speak in front of all these people. I thought the art was supposed to speak for itself!
People had already started talking about their piece. I meet the eyes of Patrice. He sends me a small smile which makes me feel a lot better. I don’t look at Greg or Tyler or Ariel. I focus on Patrice’s tie. It’s blue and red slanted stripes. I don’t know how he pulls things off like that. It must be my turn because Ross nudges me in the ribs. I stumble forward and clear my throat.

“So, I-I’m the artist behind the Boston Bruins Ice painting.” A few people look around to spot which one I’m talking about before I continue. “I work at the TD Garden. I have for a couple of years now. I’m a concession stand girl. Even before then, I grew up going to Bruins games. I grew up with the sport. Until recently though, I had only seen the rink surrounded by people. It wasn’t until I started going down to the glass after games to find things to turn into the lost and found did I see the rink in all its glory.

“I would secretly step into the bench area. One time I stepped out on the ice…I probably shouldn’t say that.” I pause and release a breathy laugh. “Anyways, it was really something to stand on that big yellow B in the middle of the ice. I felt so tiny…but I also felt home…and I hadn’t felt that in a lo0ng time.” I clear my throat again, “Thank you. I guess that’s it. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

People applaud quietly like they had for everyone else. Except Tyler. He’s loudly clapping and hollering my name. Greg punches him in the arm and shushes him. I laugh as I arrive in front of them. Tyler pulls me into a bone crushing hug, which I try to return.

All and all, Ross won in votes for his sculpture. I was so happy for him I almost cried. I myself came in third, which is not bad for a class of thirty kids. Greg kept congratulating me all the way home. Tyler wanted to have a sleepover so he didn’t have to deal with Brad. He had pulled me aside and told me what happened before he met up with the rest of us. He followed us back to my apartment. Things don’t go like that though.

I pull up and squint at my stairway. There’s a figure sitting there. I hit Greg’s arm and nod in that direction. He leans forward to get a better look. “Devin…Is that Brad?”