Dawn's enthusiasm over my drawings was outstanding! I was thrilled at how excited she was to get some prints out as soon as possible. We spent the week choosing a handful of ones to start, perfected them with some editing and sent them to a USB I could bring to the art supply store and get them printed onto some nice card-stock. She was also so kind and helped me set up an Instagram and online store for when it "inevitably took off"!
"Alright, you're free to go," she said, coming to the front where I stood with Wren.
I smiled. "Do you want me to go grab some prints today, I can bring them in tomorrow and set it up?"
"If you're able, the sooner we get these up the better," she beamed. "I'll transfer you some money, just bring me the receipt."
I had yet to tell Lincoln about all this. I was just waiting for everything to be good and done before I got him too excited. I knew he'd wanted this for me for a long time coming, I imagined he'd be thrilled.
I walked into town to the art store, talking to the nice man in charge of the printer. It was an easy process, choosing the card stock and size. We decided to start with five designs, ten of each, three large, three medium and four small, as well as twenty-five business cards I'd created to match the website.
Once finished, I took my bag of goods and wondered whether to head back home to Lincoln's or to the cafe. If my memory served me correctly, I had a good handle on where I was, and it wouldn't be that far a walk. Either way, it was light enough out that I wasn't too worried about much.
I walked with my headphones in, listening to a playlist of old tunes. It was such a cliche thing to say, but sometimes I really did wish I'd grown up in the seventies and eighties. The style, the music, everything about it just resonated with me. I often got wrapped up in my head, thinking about how cool it would be to pull up to a party in an old Firebird and you could hear I Wanna Dance With Somebody was blasting from down the street. That and dreaming I was Baby who Patrick Swayze was dirty dancing with.
I blushed, smiling to myself, looking up and catching something in my sights, surprising me suddenly. Parked on the other side of the street was a large black Jeep, in front of a run down building with a faded "Gymnasium" sigh that looked like it came from the eighties. I frowned, recognizing immediately as Lincoln's car.
I looked around the street, trying to piece together what on earth he could be doing here, because it was for certain his car. By this point I would know. I was sure.
I jogged across the street, peering inside, finding it empty. I turned towards the doors of the Gym building, the windows covered by large stickers, enabling from seeing inside. My curiosity grew. I wondered if this was a gym at all, it looking so worn down and old, how could it possibly be. It was also far from Lincoln's flat, while I knew there were more nicer gym's in the area.
I couldn't stop my mind from coming up with scenarios, trying to figure out what he could be doing here. I wished they wouldn't flood my mind, but I couldn't control it.
Finally growing restless with worry and curiousness, I reached forward to try the door, and it opened with ease. Behind it was a front desk, and a large foyer with halls leading to locker rooms and a training room. A man sat at the desk, and his face went from friendly to confused in seconds. My face went hot as I approached. No turning back now.
"Can I help you?" He asked. He was fit, maybe twenty-five, or same age as Lincoln.
"Um..." I cleared my throat. "Well I, I saw the car parked outside, and it's my... friends car, Lincoln?"
"Yeah, he's in the back," he said cheerily, then frowned. "You know Link?"
I nodded vigorously. "Yeah, we met a few weeks ago. He saved me actually."
