BASELINE ✸ Art Donaldson

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Nine. Beginning of the End

2006

PATRICK HAD BEEN ON CAMPUS FOR THE FIRST TIME ALL YEAR, and though Tatum would like to believe it was to visit her and Art — she knew it was to see Tashi. Despite Art trying to convince her otherwise.

And because he was likely off somewhere with Tashi, Art and Tatum were left all alone (per usual) in his dorm room.

"How many times am I gonna have to ask you what's wrong?" Tatum half-jokes, scanning through Art's closet for the shirt she left here last night, but she doesn't so instead, she reaches for one of his. 

Art was entirely checked out today — and all week but didn't ever give Tatum an explanation as to why.

"Nothing's wrong." He lies, finally meeting her gaze as she pulls a shirt on over her head.

Tatum tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, completely disbelieving.

He laughs. "What? Nothing is wrong."

Art is one of the worst liars, and even if he wasn't -- Tatum was practically a lie detector in human form. 

With a ghost of a smile, she goes over to the twin-sized mattress he has himself sat crisscrossed on and sat in his lap, her hands entangling in his blonde hair. "Seriously, what's going on with you?" 

He remains silent as Tatum begins trailing kisses down his neck. "What, are you bothered by the fact that Patrick and Tashi are probably fucking right now?" 

It was a joke, obviously. Tatum had a grin on her face as she gently took a small spot of the skin on Art's neck in between her teeth, but Art's entire body tensed beneath her. 

Tatum pulled away just for a second to pull her hair out of her face, a grin still apparent on her face just for it to fade at the sight of Art. 

His jaw is clenched tight and his blue eyes are facing directly toward the ground, as if ashamed to be feeling the way he is right now. That being, jealous. Of Patrick. 

A flicker of realization causes Tatum to stagger, quickly pushing her teeth between her lips as she got off of him. She had that little furrow between her brows and bit down hard on the side of her mouth to keep from crying right then and there. 

It was embarrassing. Humiliating. 

"Tatum--" Art starts, reaching out for her hand. She refutes the contact, though, quickly pulling it away and going to reach for her belongings. 

Tashi had been the root of an ongoing issue in their relationship for months now, but Art was always far too scared to mention it and Tatum was afraid to ask. 

"You know, it was cute in the beginning but it's starting to get old really fucking fast." Tatum says -- referring to Art's obvious crush on Tashi -- through gritted teeth, angrily tucking a strand of hair that's fallen loose from behind her ear. 

"Tatum." He says, voice low and breathy, almost like a sigh. 

She ignores him, hastily jamming the last of her stuff into her backpack before slinging it over her shoulder. 

"I thought you didn't care who I slept with." 

Art immediately regrets what he's just said -- Tatum can see it in his eyes -- he didn't mean it at all, because frankly, he doesn't want to sleep with Tashi nor has he ever. 

Tatum looks back at him, finally. She nods, swallowing down an entire flood of screams and shouts. "Right." 

And she slams the door behind her. 

And that was it, just left without saying anything at all, and yet, so much. 

BLAKELY SPEAKS !

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