Save Me

Chapter 2
“First day of school! First day of school! Come on wake up wake up!” Bailey groaned as Jordan jumped on her bed. Sadly it wasn’t unusual for the tall blonde to act like a 5 year old.

“Amanda! Come get your husband before I murder him!”

Amanda stuck her head through the doorway. “Sorry Bails, better you then me.” She groaned again trying to cover herself with the comforted that was being ripped away. The cool air hit her skin like a ton of bricks as Jordan sprinted from the room waving the pink comforter like it was the Canadian flag.

“Jordan I hate you,” she mumbled throwing herself back on the bed.

“No you don’t, you love me!”

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Bailey sighed as she gazed upon the campus in front of her. Was she really ready for this? Ready to get back in the swing of things? Back into her sculpting and painting? Back to her art? God she hoped so. It was a fresh start after all. No one knew her here, no one knew about her “incident”. She could be whoever she wanted to be. Right?

“Bye sweetie have a good say!” Jordan yelled in a high-pitched voice before speeding away. Bailey rolled her eyes and readjusted the strap of her messenger bag.

She struggled for the first hour trying to navigate the expansive campus. She had to ask three different people to point her in the right direction before she gave up and picked up a campus map.

Finally finding her class Bailey took a seat in the back of the auditorium and listened to the professor begin his lecture on depth perception. She had never been the most attentive student and began dozing off around the topic of shading.

Feeling a light shove Bailey snapped to attention and looked around the room only to find it empty.

“Miss Staal,” she looked up to the see her professor standing over her. “I know from my previous evaluations that my lectures can be dull, but if I catch you sleeping through my class again I won’t take pity on you. Bring coffee, it helps.”

She gaped at his back as he strode away like the aisle was his runway and he was Tyra Banks.

She quickly found the studio a couple doors down and placed her self at one of the desks. It seemed like hours went by as she stared at the empty canvas before her. Nothing was coming to mind, absolutely nothing. Everything just felt wrong, the room felt too big, there was too much music coming from other people’s headphones. What if this is all a mistake? She began to panic. What if I’m not ready for this? I can’t do this. God I wish the maintenance man had never found me.

At that last thought she shook her head and sprang from her seat. No she wasn’t going to start having those thoughts again. Quickly grabbing her supplies and bag she ran from the building and into the crisp autumn air. She let her feet take her were they might. Admiring the scenery around her, she halted in front of two solid doors.

Pushing them open, Bailey walked into the most expansive library she had ever seen. There had to have been almost a million books, well maybe not that much, but the number was up there. Searching down the massive aisles she found a secluded table, she smiled, this was much better. Now all she needed was inspiration.

She flipped through a few books before coming across one that held a bookmark. It was a post card from either Ireland or Scotland, she couldn’t really tell which. It was a beautiful photograph of rolling hills and plenty of forestry. She could copy this. Perfect.

She let the postcard and her drawing take her away just as her art once had. It was as almost as if she was there. She could feel the breezy through the trees and smell the grass; this is what she had been missing.

“Excuse me,” Bailey was broken from her trance. “Would you mind if I joined you?”

Looking up from her work she took in the figure in front of her. He was lanky, with freckles that seemed to dot every exposed piece of skin that her eyes landed on. His light brown hair was a bit unruly with a bed head look. His mouth a bit wide for his face but seemed to fit his face as they stretched over his teeth into a kind smile, and his accent was thick as though he was born and raised in the heart of London.

“Oh, um, yes,” she stuttered moving her things over to give him space.

“Sorry, this is just my normal study spot and I feel like it’s kind of lucky.”

“Get a lot of A’s?”

“I try,” he smiled. “Are you an artist?” She looked down at the rough sketch.

“I like to think so.”

“You know the view is much better in person than in a photograph.” He gestured towards the post card.

“Oh have you been? I mean I’m sure you have been. I noticed your accent,” She began to ramble.

He laughed, “Yes to the visit, and yes to your silent question. I grew up in Brighton. And I believe you are not originally from America either.”

“Oh, no, Canada.”

“Ah well it’s good to be in the company of another foreigner, even if you are just from the ‘great white north’. And your name love?”

“Bailey,” she shook his out stretched hand.

“Alex.”