My Darkest Rose

Chapter Five

The Surprise

He sat on the balcony, sketching. Theodore laid near the railing, watching cars flash past on Lake Shore Drive.

He heard his phone ping inside the apartment, and ignored it. He was drawing Rose again, this time showing her on her parent's front porch, legs straddled over the low brick wall, her long hair loose over bare arms. He had trouble remembering exactly what she wore that day, but knew it must have been a tank top because he could remember looking at her skin a lot.

His phone rang again. He guessed that whoever was calling wanted to talk about the Vox interview that was out that morning. He hadn't read it yet. Hadn't even gotten past the title.

JACK CHANNING IN REAL LIFE

What the hell did that mean?

An hour passed in which he continued to draw, pausing only to watch the water in the distance and to try and remember the exact details of that first afternoon with Rose. He remembered she was drinking a Diet Coke, and how she'd laughed when he told her it would give her cancer.

He'd talked about his mom then, and she'd listened, and when he ran out of things to say, when all the grief of the past months was wrung out, she stood up, crossed the porch, and kissed him. That seemed kind of strange now, looking back on it. They hadn't known each other well, outside of passing each other in the hall at school.

That kiss had anchored them to one another. He thought he would one day learn to carry it with him, heavy but still moving forward, but the more he thought about Rose and the past seven years, he realized he was still in that same place on the porch with her. He hadn't really moved at all, just bounced around atop the waves.

By seven, Theodore was meowing for food. He went inside to fill his bowl and grabbed a box of Saltines and hot sauce for himself from the fridge. He checked his phone and found a voicemail and five texts from Fauna.

CALL ME!!!!!

This is it, he thought. The story must reveal something he hadn't intended. Maybe she even mentioned the sex, though that seemed unlikely. Maybe she had a hidden camera in her room and posted the video online. Anything for more clicks, wasn't that the way of journalism now?

Setting his food on the bar counter, he picked up his phone, swallowed his fear, and called her.

"Jack!" she answered. "About time. I was just getting in the car to come down there."

"To the city? Why?" He stuck a cracker in his mouth.

"Don't even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about."

He sighed. "The Vox interview?"

"What? Oh, no. That was good though. I'm talking about the painting! How the hell did you pull this off?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Get your laptop and go to your fan page," she said. "I wish you would have told me, I might not have been so blindsided by all the calls today. Andrea is through the roof, of course."

"Why?" he said around a mouthful of crackers.

"Jack, seriously." She sounded pissed.

"Hold on," he said. His laptop was on the bed. He grabbed it and carried it back to the counter next to his phone.

"Did Andrea know you were going to do this?" she asked.

"Give me a second." His hands shook as he typed the address into his computer.