"Sage," she said quietly, arms still draped over my shoulders. "Can I tell you something?"
"Anything you want."
"Your drawing of me, it's amazing—"
I sensed the deflating but coming, so I just got ahead of it. Nothing could ruin what just happened, even if she'd just demanded that I pull out the paper and set it on fire.
"What?"
"My breasts..." she sighed with an awkward, almost childish grin pulling the corners of her mouth upward. "They're just not quite right."
My psyche railed against her words, like I hadn't spent hours agonizing over the details, the curves and delicate lines. Especially there. My arms relaxed and I felt a narrow space open between us.
"What's wrong with them?" I asked, trying to keep the emotion from my voice.
Skye took a deep breath and exhaled it. "I'm not sure I can describe it without showing you, it's like... god, I'm not making any sense. Fucking Tuesday sangria..."
We both laughed and I pulled her toward me again. She whispered in my ear.
"I know how much you put into this, I want it to be perfect for you."
I really wanted to say It's so damned perfect already, it's you! but my actual mouth had better sense.
"How could I... fix it?"
"Well," she giggled, "I think you'll need to see your subject again."
My eyes went wide, wondering if she was suggesting what I thought I heard. "You mean, like you..."
"Yes, Sage, naked. If you want to make your work the best it can be, you'll need to put in a little more effort." She was trying to keep her face serious and gruff, and her failing was adorable.
I tried to come up with some argument that sounded like a legitimate beef with the implied you need to look at my tits again in order to better draw said tits. Nothing came, obviously, so I was left standing on her porch, holding her against my chest.
"The light's not very good in your room," I said matter-of-factly.
"Nope," she said, running her fingers up the back of my neck and into my hair. "It'll have to be in the studio, I think."
"I don't think we have another live session planned," I said, trying to remember the class schedule.
"I think I could make a special, private appearance for the most talented artist in the class."
"Oh..." I sighed out. Holy shit holy shit holy shit. "Really?"
"Yeah, really," she said softly. "Lemme grab my shoes and a jacket."
"Right now? I mean, it's almost dark."
"Are you trying to get out of it or something? Cause it's a one time offer, buddy," she laughed. "There's a whole adjustable lighting system, Jan showed me how to use it last year."
"Great," I said, barely having gotten over the fact that we'd just had a very nice kiss.
"Good," she said, then gave me a gentle peck before turning on her heel and shuffling inside.
I absentmindedly touched two fingers to my mouth and just stood there.
Okay, so this is happening.
Skye reappeared a moment later with a yellow rain slicker. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the sidewalk, not that I needed much motivation.
"Not to give myself a gold star or anything," she said as we strolled through the drizzle, "but I'm a way better looking model than the one when I was in that class."
"I can believe that," I said, grinning at her. "Was she old and saggy or something?"
Skye laughed brightly. "He was old and saggy, yes. And god, let me tell you, I will never look at that drawing again."
"A guy? For real?"
"What, you don't think the male form is just as valid as the female for learning how to draw?"
"Well, sure," I shrugged, "I guess when I think of nude models, I think of girls. Er, women."
"That's 'cause you're a guy, obviously."
"Well spotted," I said, lightly bumping her shoulder with mine.
She giggled and squeezed my hand. "Just sayin' it's not really fair," she emphasized, "that you got me, and I had to draw mister wrinkly-bits."
"That doesn't seem fair, does it?" I offered. Then, rather on its own, my mouth blurted out a sentence my brain would certainly not have approved. "You could draw me, I guess."
What the actual hell, dude?
Skye gave me an appraising look like she was considering it.
"I couldn't ask you to do that, just get naked out of the blue. Wouldn't you be embarrassed?"
"Wouldn't it be just us?" my mouth continued. Some shred of mental analysis going on upstairs suggested Tuesday Sangria coupled with the recent activities on her porch had probably left me in a more pliable state than normal. Still, posing nude for a drawing was definitely more in line with chest tattoo—pierced ears—good hair new Sage. By the time she answered, I'd nearly convinced myself.
"Of course," she said, sweetly. "You'd really be okay with it?"
"Kinda feels like the least I could do."
Her eyes sparkled and she smiled widely. "Jeez, just like that. I'm not even prepared, I mean there's supplies there, I guess I could—"
"It's a one-time offer, missy," I parroted. "If it's not right now, I'll definitely talk myself out of it."
"Well alright then," she said excitedly.
As we walked, my pulse began to elevate again. As the art building came into view ahead in the twilight, I could feel my stomach starting to twist. We made our way in and up the rickety stairs, coming in one of the other side entrances to the large room. I caught a stray thought hoping that someone was already there so I'd have an excuse to shut the whole thing down. But nearing eight in the evening on a random Tuesday, the place was empty.
The windows and skylights breathed in the darkening gray outside as we walked in.
"Who's sketching first?" she asked, shrugging off the yellow jacket and fiddling with a wall panel full of switches and knobs. Large overhead lights flickered to life, then evened out.
"You," I blurted out, excited, terrified, but eager to get it over and done. A little bit of high school Sage was still looking for a way out. "I mean, yours will take longer, might as well let you go first."
"Okay," she said, twisting one of the knobs and adding a bit of extra warmth to the light.
The contrast eventually tricked my vision into seeing the windows and skylights as fully dark, but the room was indeed very similar to the bright day when this whole adventure had started.
"Here, if you want it," she said, appearing next to me with a robe.
I took it from her, pinching the collar between my fingers and holding it away from my body. Part of me knew I should just strip and get it over with, the other part appreciated the gesture and knew I'd put the damn thing on before taking it off again. I must have stared at it for a while.
Skye gazed up at me without irritation or scorn, just her disarming smile. "Would it help if I went first? I gotta get nehkid too," she grinned.
I think I only nodded back.
She came back with another robe and we walked together to the plinth.
There wasn't much ceremony to her disrobing. She pulled her shirt off and quickly shimmied out of her jeans. I stifled a gasp as I gazed at her now in just underwear, her matching pink lace panties and bra. To my eyes, she could have just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret photoshoot.
I was obviously ogling her, and she seemed okay with it. Happy about it, even. Even though I was using a significant portion of my willpower to control my southerly blood flow, the best I managed was keeping my junk to a decent half-chub.
She folded her arms behind her in a contortion that didn't seem physically possible to me. As the satiny straps of her bra slipped from her shoulders, I sucked in a sharp breath. She didn't remove the garment as much as let it fall off.
I unabashedly stared at her chest, threatening the delicate erectile equilibrium I'd thus far maintained. Immediately, I saw the problem with my drawing. Perhaps a problem of distance and perspective, Skye's magnificent breasts were simply... fuller. Rounder. Moving my head one way, then the other, the outside swell of her beautiful mounds made the top of her hourglass even more voluptuous, more perfect, if that was even possible.
"Taking mental notes?"
"Something like that," I said nervously.
"Time for these then, I guess."
Before I could tear my eyes away from her chest, she'd dropped her panties to the floor. Part of me was about to say something about her being fine leaving them on, I wasn't redrawing that area anyway. That part didn't get control of my mouth, thank god.
Being past a bit of the awkwardness of the situation, my gaze dropped to the newly bare area of her body. A small landing strip patch of hair graced her pubic mound, neatly trimmed. It was light enough that I hadn't noticed it during our original drawing session.
"I hope that helped," she said sweetly, picking up her robe and gently pulling it around her.
"Thank you," I said meekly. "I guess it's my turn," I said, trying very hard to make it a statement. As I began to pull my t-shirt off, I briefly worried that I'd forgotten deodorant or worn old underwear. Not even having gotten to that particular garment yet, her surprised gasp at the brief moment my face was covered with my shirt was a shock.
"Ohmigod, Sage!" she nearly squealed.
My physique was decent now and I could bench a solid one seventy-five, but I certainly didn't have a swoon-worthy bodybuilder's chest by any means. I'd finally gotten my shirt up over my head when her reaction dawned on me.
My tattoo.
As I flung my t-shirt aside, she was right there, hands slowly tracing the design covering the upper portion of my pecs.
"OMFG," she said slowly, annunciating each letter.
Her light fingertips on my skin seemed to leave little trails of warmth behind. She was so close in staring at my chest that I could see the top of her head and smell her shampoo. I allowed myself a deep inhale.
"This is so amazing..." she cooed, finally breaking her gaze to look up at me. "But it's nearly as good as the original, and there's no way you could—"
I told her the condensed version of the story of my graduation gift, and admitted how lucky I was to know a tattoo artist of that caliber.
"Most of the stuff I see on people is so bad," Skye laughed, "that's mostly why I've never got one. But this... wow. And it fits you so perfectly, I'm just..." she chewed her lower lip before glancing back up at me.
I could barely take any more ego stroking, so I simply pushed down the last of my nerves. I unbuttoned my pants and let them fall. My remarkable erection equilibrium had maintained a nice full bulge in my shorts, and Skye made no attempt to hide her appreciative stare.
"Guess I gotta lose these, huh?"
She nodded back.
I felt like a coward, but first pulled the robe around me and stuck my arms in. I knew it was stupid, but I closed the flap and loosely tied the band around my stomach.
Awkwardly, I hiked up one side of the robe and tugged half my underwear down, then repeated the process on the other side. We shared a lopsided smile as my drawers pooled around my ankles. The adrenaline coursing through me had helped me keep my erection in check, so at least the front of my robe wasn't tenting out.
Skye leaned toward me and pulled me in for a hug. "You really don't have to do this," she said quietly, "I understand if it's too much."
"Nope," I said, steeling my resolve. "Just working up to it. Go get your supplies and stuff, I'll be ready."
"Okay."
Setting up her station took remarkably little time, which was probably good so I didn't take the offered out.
"Whenever you're ready," she said, "no pressure."
My hands began to shake as I pulled at the tie. I willed them still, trying to salvage some semblance of pride and confidence. Between my height, my naturally lithe frame, and the work I'd put in at the fitness center, I didn't look bad, I knew it. Thank god I'd started regularly manscaping. The robe slipped off my shoulders, and in some kind of strange slow-mo, fell to the floor.
I would probably tell my children someday that this was a turning point in my life, but honestly at that moment, all I could think about was that I was stark, birthday-suit naked in front of one of the most beautiful girls I'd even laid eyes on. I allowed a glance down to my impressively not-quite-flaccid manhood, hanging long and full. My inner ape gave me a mental high five.
Skye's appreciative gaze at me did nothing but buoy my confidence. Still, she appeared to be keeping some level of decorum. She got up from her table and came to me, still wordlessly eye groping me. In a purely professional manner, of course.
"Okay, let's see... you're pretty tall, you'll probably need to be on the top level. Any preference on how you're posed?"
"Uh-uh," I shook my head.
"Alright, let's try the pose I used, legs to the side."
I climbed onto the stair-stepped plinth and sat on the top level. Skye bent down to change her view, which had the effect of opening the top of her robe to me. I was rewarded with a delicious eyeful of cleavage, and a decent glance at one of her delicately pink nipples. I noticed it was already swollen and firm. That thought pretty much erased all my previous moderation and I was fully hard in a few seconds.
"Ohhh," she said, smiling.
With my legs swung to the side, my now-full erection jutted awkwardly away from my body like another appendage. She laughed in a way that was cute and somehow supportive, not mean in any way. I shifted a bit, trying different angles, but the problem remained.
"That's uh... not gonna go down, is it?"
I paused and tried to think of some kind of mental exercise that would help, but simply told the truth.
"Not with you here," I said quietly.
I could have sworn I saw her delicately shudder, but it was probably imagined.
"Okay, we'll work with what we have."
"I could, you know, lay on my stomach or something, so you wouldn't see it?"
"This is a full body study for me, I think I need to draw what I'm presented with. Let's try another pose."
Following her instructions, I simply sat on the top level of the plinth like a chair, my legs hanging over the front. My feet didn't quite reach the floor and dangled lazily. At first I sat rather upright, my full erection again presenting some kind of hilariously lewd salute. Skye giggled into her hand and had move, extending my arms behind me for support as I leaned backward. The added angle of my torso flopped my very hard cock onto my stomach, which I at least hoped made it appear more like part of my body and less like somewhere to hang a towel. She had me spread my knees a bit wider, my balls just barely brushing the scratchy fabric covering the platform.
"Are you okay like that for a while, pretty comfortable?"
I laughed aloud. "I dunno if comfortable is the word I'd use, but I'll manage."
"I'll work as fast as I can," she said, a charcoal pencil already in hand and flying around the paper.
We talked as she sketched, an obvious difference from the previously reversed session. She did most of the talking, which put me at ease. During one lull in the conversation I had a lightning-bolt flash that I was in a more or less public university building, which could conceivably have any number of students or professors walk in at any moment. The thought quickly dissipated, our activity albeit strange with just one artist, wouldn't be unusual for this particular room.
Skye gave me a little backstory on her roommates. All but Devyn were art majors and had become friends during their first couple of years at university. As we continued to talk, I was surprised that the comfort she afforded me didn't diminish my arousal. As I put what brainpower I had to the thought, I realized I was becoming more and more attracted to her. Not just the obviously physical portion, but something else layering on top.
Never mind the fact that we'd shared our first kiss, and had now seen each other au naturale. She was carrying on a disarming conversation while drawing one of the most complicated natural forms on the planet, and probably doing a damn good job of it. The way she smiled, the way she gazed at me and laid down lines without even looking... I was in awe. A few other distinct emotions were getting on the bandwagon for Team Skye.
She finally exhaled a long breath and set the pencil down.
"I think I've got it," she sighed out, glancing several times between me and the paper.
I nodded and began to sit up.
"Wait!" she said, standing up. "Can I get a pic of your chest? I wanna make sure I get your ink right," she added.
I nodded again while she retrieved her phone from the back pocket of her jeans on the floor. I would have let her take any photos she wanted at that point. I heard the shutter noise and hopped down, pulling the robe back over my shoulders and tying it loosely.
"Can I see, or..."
"Are you okay seeing a very rough sketch of yourself?"
"Sure," I said, more curious about her process than what I looked like. As I rounded the table, a breath caught in my throat.
Somehow, I instantly understood her earlier question. Is that how you see me? Just like hearing your own voice on a recording, or the difference between a mirror reflection and a photograph... the figure on her page was both me and someone else. Everything about the man reclining was put together, confident. He was comfortable in nothing but his own skin, leaning back, legs spread, gazing at the viewer. The sweeping muscles of my calves and thighs looked elegantly sculpted. The V of my torso wasn't exactly beach bro, but long and lithe.
And holy shit, there's no way my dick is that big.
My earlier reflection on distance and perspective piped up, and I quickly decided not to linger on that particular detail. She'd done a simple outline of my tattoo, more as a positional placeholder than anything else. What shocked me most though, was my facial expression. Even in rough, bold strokes, charcoal me was giving off a confidence that was both new and unexpected, and probably only a reflection of the person he was looking at.
I finally had to say it out loud.
"Is that really how I look?" I paused, knowing I needed to bring it closer. "Like how you see me?"
Skye's nod and accompanying smile nearly melted me. I leaned forward as she still sat in the chair and pulled her in. She wrapped her arms around my stomach.
"You did great, sweetie. I promise you can see it when it's done."
"Not sure I want to," I half-lied.
Even though it was just thin fabric, the robe's barrier between me and the world felt like I again had some kind of protection. My still-hard cock pressing against the robe was another matter with decidedly different feelings attached to it. Still, I tried to remain cool and remember why we were here. She was apparently having the same thought and stood.
"Alright Sage, let's fix my tits." Skye grinned widely and made her way to the plinth.
I turned to grab an easel and a few pencils. By the time I got back, she was nude and sitting in the same pose as before. Through the still present influence of my growing horniness, I had enough thought to move closer to her, remembering my thoughts about distance and perspective.
We locked eyes for a moment and shared a smile.
"This gonna sound weird," she said, "but drawing isn't always just seeing with your eyes."
"Okay..." I said slowly.
"Sometimes it's a smell that influences a color choice, touching something to feel the texture."
I simply waited for her to continue, unsure where we were headed. The confidence on her face radiated into the room like its own source of light.
"Well, come 'ere, then," she said.
I froze, wondering if what I thought was happening was actually going to.
"Don't be nervous," she said. "Come on over. Just cup your hand under it, like this." She demonstrated with her own.
I pushed myself forward and stood in front of her. She took my hand and brought it to her chest. My hand shook just a little as she lifted it to her breast. Gently cupping my fingers, I cradled the perfect mound of flesh in my hand.
"Feel the weight, the shape," she said, like she'd just told me to pick up a smooth rock I was going to draw.
"It's really... nice," I said, hoping it didn't sound creepy. I made a very conscious effort not to move my hand or fingers. Skye had other ideas.
"Now slide around the side a little, where the skin goes under my arm. Yeah, just like that, feel that— there."
Valiantly trying to tamp down my arousal as I caressed her warm skin, I finally pulled back. "I think I got it."
"Good," she said sweetly.
I retreated behind my easel and examined my drawing. I knew the fix wouldn't be hard, just the bottom and outside curves. Quickly erasing the lines that needed adjustment, I got to work.
Several minutes passed and I'd erased and redrawn the crucial parts of Skye's chest five or six times. It was like my brain couldn't translate to my hand what it had seen and felt. I knew the exact place the lines needed to go, but my hadn just wouldn't do it.
"Urghh," I said under my breath, grabbing a new eraser.
"What is it?" she asked, cocking her head slightly at me.
I let out a deep sigh.
"I dunno what's wrong with me tonight, it's like I forgot how to draw." I knew perfectly well what was wrong, and it was still rather insistently tenting the robe away from my body.
Every spare cycle of thought was focused on her in an increasingly non-artistic way. She was obviously sitting here nude, objectively gorgeous, but everything was different now. We had hung out, shared meals, played video games, kissed on her porch. The fact that she actually wanted to see me in the same state, and then drew me like she was... attracted to me. Something was happening and my brain was all spun up over it.
"Come here, sit with me for a minute," she said.
I got up and did as she asked. With her legs extending away down the levels of the plinth, she naturally leaned against me as I sat. Although I wouldn't have objected to copping another feel, I knew it wasn't going to help. I so badly wanted to kiss her again and hold her against me.
"Is it the light?" she asked half jokingly.
"No, I just can't concentrate," I said, turning to look at her. "I think it may be your fault." My mouth said without clearance.
Skye giggled. "I see." She let out a more contented sigh. "You're not gonna be able to finish your drawing until you've calmed down, will you?" She gave my tented robe a glance.
"Probably not," I nervously admitted.
"You got to touch me," she said softly, "maybe I could touch you."
A microdose of adrenaline shot into my veins.
"Somehow I don't think you touching me is gonna help me calm down. Probably just gonna make it worse."
"Sage," she said slowly, adding a sultry layer to her pretty voice, "I could help you calm down. Do you understand?"
I sucked in a breath. "Umm..." I said dumbly, "for real? You'd... want to do that?"
"I was the one that dragged you down here to fix your drawing, feels like we shouldn't waste the effort."
"Oh my god," I said under my breath, not quite sure if it had actually come out. My stomach twisted and every spare drop of blood forced its way into my hard on. I think I just looked at her and nodded.
"You want me to put on a robe, or—"
"No," I cut in.
"Thought so," she smiled. "Here, lemme help you." Skye took the tie of my robe and pulled at the loose knot, then slowly pulled the flaps aside.
My erection sprang free. I could have sworn I heard her make some kind of cute noise, again, probably imagined. She reached and delicately wrapped her fingers around me. I would have expected some kind of world-altering flash of lightning and electricity to accompany the first other person to touch my dick, but instead I got warmth and her soft skin against my hard flesh. She held me for just a moment as we locked eyes again.
"Tell me if I'm doing something that doesn't feel good," she said, still sporting the confident gaze I was beginning to envy.
"I think that might be impossible," I breathed out.
A quiet corner of my brain wanted to tell her that this was going to be the most physical contact I'd had with another person, the most intimate moment of my virginal life.
She started moving her hand, slowly pulling the slightly looser skin up and down my shaft. My breathing had already become a bit ragged and I took the liberty of exploring her body with my eyes.
After a moment of her gentle handjob, some flow of chemicals seemed to finally let my body relax. I leaned backwards just a bit and rested on my hands, rather like the pose she'd put me in. Her long, slow strokes up and down my manhood were different from my own, and so, so much better.
Another moment passed and I Began gently moving my hips with her ministrations. Skye's expression changed a little, still confident and owning the room, but now pleased.
Between my reclined angle and the growing motion of my body, the robe slipped off my shoulders and down my arms. I gasped and paused as I realized I was now merely sitting on the robe, not wearing it.
I'm alone with Skye, in the atelier, naked. Together. And she's jacking me off.
The two halves of my brain warred. One was Shields up! Someone could come in and see! The other half was less worried about it, it was late in the evening, and so what if someone came in? The notion that someone could discover this beautiful goddess of a woman pleasing me... that thought tugged at a few nerves I hadn't remembered feeling.
My psychological battle was eventually subdued by a new set of chemicals flooding into my gray matter, the beginning of the end.
Skye's hand, while still gentle in its sinuous motions, had started to move faster. Her grip tightened around me just a bit like she was getting the same hormones I was.
My lips parted and I started breathing through my growing need, hoping to prolong it just a bit longer. I wanted to warn her, ask if she was going to finish or if I should take over, and what to do with the mess that was about to happen. None of those words came out, and she spoke instead.
"Sage, can I kiss you?"
I lurched forward and took her cheeks in my hands, rather roughly pulling her lips to mine. Her hand around my cock didn't miss a beat, her tempo still slowly increasing. Her tongue forced its way into my mouth, I eagerly took it with what little control I had left.
The ragged breaths through my nose as we made out signaled my impending release, she pulled away just a little and stared into my eyes.
"You can cum for me now..."
Her words dropped like a bomb and I quickly exploded. Every one of my core muscles contracted as the liquid rushed through my body, jetting out of my cock.
I could tell I was making some kind of pitiful moaning noise as my first volleys left me. Unlike most times I came, I had no idea or care where it was going.
"Oahhh... shit!" I finally cried as the third, fourth, and fifth delicious spasms racked me. My halting gasps followed her slowing strokes until she'd reduced me to a dribble.
As my climax subsided, I became aware of the warmth of my own spend on my skin. One of the jets had clipped my chin, the rest landed on my chest and stomach. We gazed at each other again as I tapered off. I wanted to say something, but couldn't think of any words that would be appropriate.
Am I supposed to... do something? For her? She asked to kiss me again, so she's interested, right? Would jacking me off make her horny? Should I offer to... Jesus, what would I offer?
I'm not sure how long I sat there pondering in my post-orgasm confusion. Before I could reason out what I should do, Skye hopped up and went to one of the counters. She wetted a paint rag in a wash sink and brought it to me. I grinned and took it, then made quick work of cleaning up.
Aside from not knowing if I'd left her hanging, there was no post nut clarity, no embarrassment. I would have expected an extreme impulse to cover up, to retreat to the relative safety of the thin robe. Instead, I scooted forward and stood. I leaned down and kissed her again, hoping at least the gesture would be well-received. This time, I pressed my lips to hers delicately with a single hand on the side of her neck. She definitely made some kind of noise that time.
"I think I can probably draw now," I said with a lopsided grin.
"Mission accomplished, then," she giggled.
Under the pretense of art, I stepped back and took in her body with my eyes. I couldn't say where the boldness came from, but it just spilled out of my mouth.
"I'd better have one more feel, just to be sure," I said, the cocky edge to my voice quite literally had never left my mouth before.
Skye laughed brightly and again assumed her pose on the plinth. "The things we do for our art, right?"
Quite different from my first bordering-on-clinical touch, I put both my hands on her. Starting with my wrists together between her breasts, I slowly rotated outward, palming her warm flesh. I ended with a squeeze that was certainly pushing the bounds of what could be considered academic. I leaned down for another kiss. As I breathed in through my nose, her floral shampoo had been joined by another scent, a musky, heady smell I couldn't place.
She broke the kiss first and sighed as I pulled my hands away, fingertips grazing the underside of her breasts as I stood.
God, who am I?
"Okay," I said, "I think I might have enough to go on." I left my robe sitting on the platform and strode behind my easel. I grinned at Skye's now rosy cheeks before starting on the drawing. Like I was some kind of master, my pencil glided along the paper as if ordained, the whole process taking maybe fifteen seconds. I reached for a piece of vine and quickly added the shading and depth I could probably now see with my eyes closed.
After a minute and a blackened fingertip, it was done.
I smiled and let out a long exhale. Skye's face lit up and she bounded off the plinth, breasts bouncing pleasantly as she crossed the distance between us.
She let out a slow breath through her lips, not quite a whistle.
"Wow," she said. "I think you got it. Well, got them."
"Thanks. The last bit of inspiration really did it." We giggled together and turned to hug.
Once dressed I felt better again. We gazed at my drawing, and I had to admit to myself there's nothing else I would change. Again reading my mind, Skye dug through a drawer and returned with a spray can.
"Go on and sign it."
I grabbed the sharpest charcoal pencil and put my mostly unreadable signature in the lower right corner. I glanced at her and nodded. After a few shakes, she lightly coated my drawing with the fixative spray. The exposed white areas drank in the liquid and were quickly bright and matte again.
"Nice work," she said slowly. "I'm impressed."
"Thank you," I answered back, still not trusting any words that might have conveyed what was going through my brain at that moment. We made small talk for a few minutes as the protectant dried, including finally sharing numbers. Skye texted me a rosy-cheeked smiley as the first exchange in our thread. I tapped her contact.
Skye Saavedra
I realized I hadn't even known her last name.
I finally packed the drawing back into my portfolio as she turned the lights off. I followed her down the stairs and out of the building. It had stopped raining, but the wet concrete reflected the amber glow from the street lights. Another skirmish flared up in my head as we reached the sidewalk and prepared to part ways.
Everything about the last several hours had seemed so far fetched, so out there that I could still barely believe it had all gone down. Of course New Sage had harbored some hope that my new image and outlook would lead to something like this, a connection with a girl that would be... what? I couldn't even fathom a person like this existing.
Should I kiss her again? Hug? Make some undying profession of affection and loyalty?
With a bit more ambiguity that I would have hoped for, Skye simply grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze, then waved as we stepped apart. She went left, I went right, and that was that. The parting didn't create anything new, but it didn't shut it down either.
So... that just happened.
I walked home in a daze. After a couple of blocks I was back to some semblance of reality, albeit feeling a little like the thief at the end of a heist movie. Like I'd just gotten away with something. That's where my comparison fell down, the movie thief had obviously planned every step for every possible outcome and had succeeded on his own merit. I took an art class and happened to wind up getting a handjob and some nice makeout time with a stunning girl. I debated the 'is it better to be lucky, or good?' question for a few more blocks. I tried to factor in that if I hadn't been good at drawing, the same circumstances that produced said benefits might not have happened. Fair enough. But by no means was I a player of any sort. Skye fell in my lap, and I had good sense enough not to screw it up. That scenario, I could live with.
My reconciliation didn't stop me from walking into our dorm room with a guilty grin plastered on my face, which made me an easy target.
"Where you been?" said Kai from the kitchen as I came in.
Donny appeared from the living room, eyeing my portfolio case. "Art class was over hours ago, dude." He looked at me searchingly, not that my state was hard to guess. "You were with Skye, weren't you?"
I opened and closed my mouth, but didn't say anything.
"Sage man, come on, spill."
"She was helping me with my drawing," I said, which was true.
"My man!" Donny raised his hand up for a high five, I begrudgingly gave it to him. He glanced at his watch. "If it took you more than four hours, it'd better be some goddamned masterpiece."
I stifled a laugh. "I ate pizza with her and her roommates, too."
"Alright, meeting the friends, that's a positive step."
"It is?"
"Well, wasn't it?"
I demurred and didn't answer.
"Well lets see this masterpiece," said Kai, mouth half-full of the sandwich he'd been making.
"It's kinda, uh..."
"Art," said Donny pointedly.
I sadly couldn't argue with him there. "Fine." I set down my bag and extracted the piece, holding the interesting side gently against my chest. "Now listen, no comments about how hot she is, how much you wanna bang her, anything rude. She's a person. Got it?"
Donny knew the comment was aimed at him, but they both nodded. Rather than simply turning it around, I set it on the upright back of a chair, a makeshift easel of sorts. I stood and moved out of the way.
"Whoa..." Donny murmured. "Sage, you actually drew this? Like her helping you wasn't taking over and doing the most of the work?"
"I drew it. Her hands never touched it."
They touched something else, though. It took a brief second to confirm my inner monologue wasn't coming out in actual words. I hoped the grin on my face would be ignored given the now more interesting thing in the room.
"Come on, you guys," said Kai, finally speaking, "does she actually look like this in real life? I mean, she's not that..."
I could tell he was trying to come up with some inoffensive way to say impossibly hot.
"Actually, I can confirm," said Donny seriously.
"Damn," Kai whispered.
The three of us took a probably longer than necessary moment of silence to continue ogling. I was starting to get twinges of we're being creepy when Dane walked in. Much of the conversation repeated, and afterward, he was even more flustered than Kai. I finally stashed the work back in my bag and retreated to my room. I fell asleep that night in a predictably good mood.
* * *
I woke the next morning after strange and disjointed dreams. Given the level of new and unusual influence by a certain silver-haired girl, I was a little surprised that she hadn't featured in any of the scenes I remembered. There was definitely drawing and art involved, but it was almost a kind of restraint, something holding me back. I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
As I walked to my early class, I wondered what was next, what I was supposed to do. Or not do. I'd heard the forty-eight hour rule, the twenty-four hour rule, and increasingly, people just did whatever the hell they wanted. I pulled out my phone a couple of times during the walk, checking the one-line text thread for any pulsing bubbles.
Do I just text her and say 'thank you?' Would she think it was for helping me with the drawing, or the other thing? Both? Shit.
I'd walked a block past the building I was supposed to be at when I realized I was pretty lost in my own head.
Just be cool. She kinda started this, just go along. If I'm all needy and clingy... just don't be that guy.
By the time dinner rolled around, I was nearly vibrating with a nervous combination of anticipation and frustration. Even though he had a bro-ish take on most things, Donny intuited my state pretty accurately and swooped in when we got back from the cafeteria.
"She didn't help anybody else, did she?" he asked with an unusual vulnerability in his voice.
I shook my head. "I don't think so." His whole face brightened.
"Dude, that's good!" said Donny, kind of shaking his fists at me. "She def didn't ask if I needed any extra help."
"And why is that good?"
"Are you some kind of idiot? She either thought your work was good enough to help along, or she likes you, or both."
I briefly assembled the evidence and realized that maybe my earlier line of thinking wasn't horrible.
There's no reason for her to kiss me just because she thought my drawing was good, right? And she definitely did like the drawing, especially after it was done, and... she really helped me get it done. God, is Donny right? Am I obsessing like a giant freak because she hasn't texted me since we... should I just message her?
"Dude, you running numbers on the situation or something?"
I chuckled, starting to come around. "I think you might be right?" It was definitely a question. I wasn't going to tell him about the handful of events that seemed like strong supporting arguments, but it still felt like I was playing way above my league.
Ding.
My phone chimed, the stupid default noise for people that I hadn't assigned their own sound to. Most of the people I texted regularly were in this dorm and would just as soon come knock on my door.
We both turned toward my phone sitting on the desk. The screen had just winked out after the notification.
Donny raised an eyebrow at me. "You gonna check that, bucko?"
I was almost too tense to move. The slim likelihood that it was Skye seemed a bit less slim than it had a moment ago.
"Dude! Check your fucking phone, or I will!"
I picked it up and the screen glowed to life.
New message from: Skye Saavedra
I swiped to open the thread, my brain simultaneously concocting a dozen possible messages. They were still pretty evenly split between please don't text me back or contact me again and I had a really nice time, would like to see you again.
As I read the four-word message, it was simply... other.
—Do you like camping?
I'm sure the look on my face telegraphed my confusion. I don't know how long I sat there frozen and motionless before Donny just grabbed the phone from my hand.
"Sage!" he exclaimed, "my guy!"
"What?" I asked dumbly.
He stared at me for a moment like I was some kind of creature with limited intellect and reason to exist. He finally just shook his head and started typing. I wasn't sure if him reading the words along as he tapped out the reply was good or bad.
—Love camping! Go all the time
—You going or something?
"What the hell are you doing?" I squealed, trying to grab the phone back. When I'd wrestled it from his hands and focused on the screen, the tiny Delivered bubble had just changed to Read.
"You are such a dick!" I flared up, trying to take deep and calming breaths.
Unexpectedly, Donny dropped back into the kind, introspective person I'd only seen once a few minutes earlier.
"Sage... She. Likes. You. Maybe it's just 'cause you can draw her like one of your French girls, maybe she sees some kind of priceless nerd in the rough, who the hell knows. You are a freshly minted man my friend, go have fun. Make mistakes. Do stupid shit that terrifies you just to see if you can do it!"
My brain flashed to only a day earlier. Nearly everything that had happened fit pretty neatly into Donny's edict. I would count those hours in the top moments of my life.
Why am I so afraid of this?
"You're right..." I said quietly.
"Of course I'm right!"
"But Donny, I've never been camping."
* * *
I barely slept that night. Tossing and turning, I went through a progression of scenarios during that weird time where your brain won't shut off. Without a response in our message thread, I couldn't be sure if Skye was inviting me on a trip, or was just asking if it was a possibility. Having never texted prior I assumed it was more of a concrete invite. My imagination moved on to what camping would be like with her. Where would we go, would we be alone... what would the sleeping arrangements look like? The vision I liked best was one with a heavy canvas tent overlooking a prairie, probably influenced by some old safari movie. It was twilight and the inside of the tent was full of candles, their warm light flickering off the walls. For some reason there was a full-on bed in the center, not the sleeping bags I suspected would be more likely. Skye was already lying on the bed and under a thin sheet that left very little mystery to her shape.
That particular fantasy ran through my head quite a few times, even into the next morning. My brain never got past the point where I'd simply walked into the tent and spied her, like I couldn't imagine what would come next. I had no idea if the activities under our belt suggested that we'd go... there, and I was equally terrified and elated to think about it.
As if Skye had developed some kind of supernatural connection into my thoughts, my phone rang as I was walking to class. As I looked at the screen, I could feel my endorphins flowing alongside the knot twisting my stomach.
"Hey Skye, good morning," I said as confidently as I could.
"Good morning! Sorry about the cryptic text. It's been just crazy lately, and well... my roommates are kinda demanding that I get out of the house."
"So... camping, huh?"
"Yeah, just for a night. Relax, unwind a little."
What's been crazy? Why are you inviting me? Are we going... alone?
"I think there will be nine or ten of us if you go," she said over the phone, still apparently reading my mind. "Up into the woods, there's some decent spots up near the lake."
Up in the woods, fantastic.
"Uh... so I need to confess, my roommate took my phone and responded to you last night."
She laughed, "I see."
"I have literally never been camping before. My folks were... indoorsy. I don't even have a sleeping bag."
"Totally fine! A few of the people going are very outdoorsy and have all the stuff. We just need to show up. I'm trying to convince Devyn to go too, but we'll see."
"I don't have a car either, could I bum a ride?"
"Oh yeah, one of the guys is in the mountain climbing club and said we can use their van. We're gonna try and leave about five tomorrow."
"Got it."
"Are you really thinking about going?"
"Well, yeah," I said, trying to sound excited. While it wasn't a romantic getaway, it was still spending time with her. "You invited me..."
"Oh, yay!" she kind of squealed. "This is gonna be so fun! Sage..." she said softly, "I'm glad you're coming."
"Me too," I said, warming to the idea. "I gotta get into class, guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Bye!"
Okay, still could be good. Camping is supposed to be fun, right? I hope there's not giant bugs or bears or something.
I'd only lived in the area since September, and honestly had no idea that there was even a lake nearby. I made a mental note to look at a map later, which was quickly swept away by the general nervousness of leaving civilization with a small group of people I mostly didn't know.
* * *
Back to my room Friday morning after English Lit, my phone dinged again. I still hadn't assigned Skye her own sound. I couldn't quite decide what it ought to be yet.
—Got Jan to let you out of class this afternoon, meet out in front of your dorm at 3
I gave the text a thumbs up, not trusting myself to reply with anything that sounded remotely stable. My brain was ping-ponging between I have to sleep outside and I can't wait to see you again.
Kai lent me a backpack large enough to pack extra changes of clothes and my pillow. I filled in the rest of the pockets with snacks and bottles of water. I should have asked more questions about the food situation. Worst case, I could survive on granola bars and jerky for a night. Pulling up a map on my phone, I did find a forest lake that was our likely location. Barely an hour away, it was surrounded by disbursement camping, whatever that was. Checking the nearest location I could get a weather report for, it looked like the lows where we were going would be in the mid forties.
I trundled down and out of my dorm at two forty-five. When three fifteen rolled around I fought the urge to text Skye, tamped down by my inner chant of go with the flow. Fifteen minutes later and about the point I was going to break my streak, a scraped-up van pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the street. The driver rolled the window down and called to me.
"Sage?"
I nodded at him as coolly as I could and trotted across, someone opened the sliding door for me.
"Last stop, let's roll!"
My ass had barely hit the seat and we took off. I shoved the backpack between my legs and buckled the seatbelt as we got underway.
"I'm Connor," said the driver, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror, "Darren, Jonny..." he went through the whole roll call, me dutifully trying to remember names.
There were two girls in the back, and neither of them was Skye. I didn't want to ask where she was or otherwise let on how clueless I was. I managed to pull off decent small talk while we drove, the task a little easier as most appeared to be art students. At least I could speak their language.
Connor was quickly revealed as the alpha of the group. He was witty and quick to crack jokes or pounce on someone's misspeak. From my brief view of him through the rolled down window, I knew he was good looking, chiseled features and a coiffed head of light brown hair. As we drove, he was somehow a part of every conversation, even though there were seven of us. He appeared intelligent enough, but gave the distinct impression he was only listening to you to keep it as some future evidence.
"So Sage, how'd you pull off an invite to our first camping trip of the season?"
"I uh, I'm in a class with Skye." I tried hard to make it a statement.
A chorus of low oooohs passed through the van, mostly from the guys. I attempted to let it wash over me and not react, but felt my cheeks warming. There was no way I was going to mention my drawing or any other details if they didn't know. Maybe they did already.
"Cool, cool," said Connor. "Well you must be an experienced outdoorsman if she invited you. Our first spring camp is usually pretty rough. It'll probably freeze overnight, and we don't often catch enough fish for a whole meal. Maybe this year will be different!"
A few of the guys chuckled. I tried to stay cool and noncommittal. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to freeze or starve. Pretty sure.
The van continued its slow ascent and indeed, into a forest. As the road started to wind, the trees grew more dense and less natural light reached the ground. I stared upward out the side window, silently impressed with the natural beauty. Coming from the midwest, I'd not seen many trees taller than houses. We finally turned off the paved road and onto what was really no more than a dirt path. Barely wide enough for a vehicle, ruts and potholes slowed us to a creep. I half expected Connor to just say fuck it and hit the gas, but he was slow and careful.
After maybe fifteen minutes off-roading, I saw a change in the light up ahead. The blue water of the lake reflected the late afternoon sun in tiny ripples of light. We made a turn before reaching the shore and pulled into a kind of makeshift parking area. Two other cars were already there. In short order, most of my questions were answered, and worries quelled.
Maybe a hundred feet closer to the shore was an impressive looking camp, at least to my eyes. Two large tents had been set up, rather like the one in my imagination. Brown canvas walls were definitely more Army Surplus than REI. The doors were tied open and facing a central area where a fire was crackling in a pit lined with smooth stones.
I hauled the van's side door open and we piled out, making our way toward the camp. The closer we got, the more I gathered Connor's dire warnings were a ruse. Between the tents, an large outdoor kitchen had been erected. Tables with aluminum tops, a stove and a flat top griddle, and two large coolers, presumably holding enough food that we weren't going to be relying on lake-caught fish.
Thoughts of who would be responsible for cooking and cleanup? Were there bears? No bathrooms, I'll probably be peeing on a tree, right? All were forgotten as I caught a streak of silver hair coming out of the tent on the right.
Skye noticed the group and made her way over, petite Devyn in tow.
"Hey all, welcome to camp!" she called.
Two other guys were already there, the bearded one with impressively muscled arms I pegged as the rock climber. The whole group happily chattered away for a moment, me on the outside, wondering if I was glad to be here. Skye did give me a friendly nod after a moment and came over to me.
"Glad you came," she said quietly enough that only I could hear.
She didn't hug me or give me a welcome kiss. I tried to be okay with it.
"Okay," she announced, "van people already met Sage, this is Eric and Reid. Guys, this is Sage. Now everyone knows everyone!" A round of friendly nods and waves circled around.
I recoiled at a gentle touch when she brushed my arm, which made me feel bad. I could tell that she was only doing it for my benefit, and wasn't intending it to be some kind of outward announcement. We weren't in any kind of thing, and that was fine.
I mean, I really want it to be something, but I'm not going to make a big deal of it. Especially in front of...
I did a quick count and came away with eleven total, seven guys and four girls. The math confirmed that this wasn't some kind of couples' trip, so I halfheartedly abandoned any kind of romantic vibe I'd be harboring.
Everyone seemed to kind of explode into activity all at once. Backpacks were unpacked, sleeping bags unrolled, and it quickly became obvious that everyone but me had done this before. Skye nodded toward the van and walked with me to get my bag.
"Ride up okay?"
"Yeah, it was fine. I think Connor was trying to scare me off, but... pshh."
She chuckled as I hoisted the backpack over my shoulder, but didn't otherwise comment.
"I really am glad you're here."
We paused for just a moment, halfway between the van and the tents. Both of us stood just gazing at the other and most of my other senses faded for a moment. The whisper of the wind through the trees, the smell and crackling noise of the fire, for a brief period it was just us. It wasn't some kind of glass breaking shatter that brought me back to reality, but her smiling at me.
"Guys' tent is that one," she said, nodding to the tent on the left. "I'm sure Eric already got a cot and bag setup for you, I'm not sure about a pillow though. Ugh, I shoulda—"
"Packed one," I cut in, mirroring her smile back.
"Look at you, mister Boy Scout."
I reached out and simply squeezed her shoulder. She sighed contentedly.
"I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here, but thank you for the invite. I..." my voice trailed off. "Just tell me if I'm being a dork, okay?"
"Oh Sage," she chuckled, grabbing my hand and leading me toward the tent. "You'll be fine. Just be you."
Her assurance caught me a little off guard. We hadn't known each other anywhere near enough time that just be you would be any kind of reasonable thought.
How could she know me that well?
My brain went to the fact that they were all upperclassmen two or three years older than me. Bearded Eric looked like he could be thirty for all I knew. Of the strange cycles in life where age gaps seem to narrow and widen, me certainly being the youngster of the group felt daunting. I somehow knew Skye wouldn't set me up to be outed as a pathetic nerd or embarrassed in front of her friends, as otherwise the possibility would have been likely.
I strode into the tent and found the furthest outside cot was the only one not covered with stuff, so I dumped my bag. It wasn't like there was a wardrobe or chest of drawers to unpack it, so I simply extracted my pillow and walked back out the canvas flap. Nearly everyone was still in some state of activity. Skye was bustling about the outdoor kitchen, appearing to chop something on a large wood plank serving as a cutting board.
"Come on, you," said Devyn, appearing next to me and unabashedly grabbing my hand. Her wide smile was disarming, and I followed her like a puppy toward the fire pit.
A handful of folding camp chairs were already set up in a semicircle on the upwind side of the stone ring. Devyn plopped into one, I sat next to her.
"Alright," she said conspiratorially under her breath, "first thing you need to know is Connor. He and Skye dated for a while. It was on again off again for a few months, you know how that goes..."
"Totally," I lied. "So are they still like... a thing?"
"Oh god, no," Devyn chuckled. "I think she broke his heart a little, but you know how douchebags seem to recover faster that people with real feelings."
"Totally," I nodded.
"Let's see, Julia, the brunette, she's fun but not super bright. Maybe? I've only had one class with her and she seemed a little out of her depth. Oh and Eric... he's obviously yummy and the ringleader of camping, but a totally legit guy. Like, if a bear was attacking you, he'd be there with a hand-forged knife or something and kill it."
Devyn and I quickly covered the entire camp, everyone's names and history and relevant gossip. She somehow possessed the uncanny ability to make me feel entirely comfortable in probably the least comfortable environment I'd ever found myself. In the twenty minutes we sat and chatted, I got the strangest sense that I was now more acquainted with everyone in camp than the one person who'd invited me. It felt weird to ask Devyn for details on Skye, given... things, so I just sat on it.
Eric appeared by the fire a few minutes later, true to form. He gave me a genuine smile, a firm handshake, and a beer. I had to explain that my ability to return his crushing grip was from kneading dough instead of climbing rocks, which he seemed to equally respect. We chatted for a bit, watching the buzzing activity as the group finished setting up camp and cooked dinner.
As the evening progressed, I got more comfortable. A second beer probably helped, but by and large, everyone in the group seemed cool and not overly worried about the presence of a newcomer or whatever awkward history they all may have shared.
Dinner was an impressive assortment of smoked and barbecued meat, crispy fried potatoes with some kind of salty cheese over top, and a fruit salad with only a bit less variation than Tuesday Sangria. Given that everyone but me and Devyn were officially art students, I figured there would have been at least one vegetarian or vegan, but watched as everyone tore into the meat with carnivorous enthusiasm. As my teeth sunk into a deliciously tender strip of brisket, I scolded myself for putting up the stereotype to begin with.
Skye sat next to me while we ate, but like before, wasn't overtly affectionate. I did get plenty of butterfly-inducing smiles and a few forearm touches, but nothing approaching our previous interactions.
Be cool, dude, this is just a fun camping trip. Don't make it weird.
We finished eating as the sun set, the last rays of warm light rippling off the nearby lake and into the trees. Cleanup was just as efficient as dinner prep, and before long we were all around the campfire again with fresh drinks. Someone connected a Bluetooth speaker and started some low music, not loud enough to interrupt the handful of conversations happening around the circle. I reclined into my chair and simply watched and listened.
Apparently many of them were working on big projects that would round out the last term before summer. I didn't jump in and ask for details, being an accounting major with a growing but still only passing involvement in the art world. Skye mentioned my drawing of her to the group, which I pointedly noticed got an eye roll from Connor. I wasn't sure if it meant he was still interested or what, but tried to let it go.
With the image of her bare form now in my head, I had to pay attention a little more to keep from drifting off into Naked Skye Land, a magical place I'd spent some significant time in lately. As if the universe was somehow in on it, she spoke up loud enough for the whole group.
"So are we ready for our swim?"
"Swim?" I asked under my breath, "nobody said anything about bringing a swimsuit."
Devyn apparently heard me and leaned over. "You don't need one, we go skinny dipping."
My eyes widened, and a couple of the group gave low chuckles in my direction. One of the guys whose name I'd already forgotten piped up.
"Are we seriously doing this again?"
A couple of people made noises in agreement, a few others seemed to be on Team Skye.
"Come on, pansies," said Connor, "you know she's not gonna let it go, let's just get it over with," he added with another eye roll.
I glanced between the two, they shared a rather competitive but wordless glance. Everyone hopped up and headed to the tents. My stomach was doing little somersaults as we piled inside our respective sleeping areas, everyone quickly shedding clothes.
"So we're really doing this, huh?" I said with as much joviality as I could. "This is a thing?"
"I'm surprised you're surprised," said Connor, pulling off his shirt to reveal a reasonably sculpted torso. I could only see the outline of his chest because he was nearest to the door flap. Everyone else was largely shrouded in darkness, which I appreciated.
I laughed nervously and I pulled my jeans off. With some deep breathing and more than a few nerves, my boxers followed. The cool air inside the tent was bracing, and somehow didn't have the immediately expected effect on my junk. I knew it probably had to be the last few minutes of thoughts running through my head, all related to Skye's suggestion that we were all about to see each other naked. Even with the minor confidence boost that my dick hadn't shriveled up into my body, I was still the last one out of the tent.
"Ooh, Sage is packing," said Connor as I walked out into the area between the tents and the fire.
I could have laid down and died and died as the entire group collectively checked out my package. The deep breathing continued as the focus seemed to briefly drift around. For a quiet moment, everyone was subtly eye groping everyone else. It was a strange experience, but not as awkward as I would have assumed. The different shapes and sizes of bodies, the proportions and of course genetics... I was quickly in my artist's head and thought about how I'd draw each person.
"Last one in does breakfast dishes!" called the girl whose name I didn't remember.
As quick as my introspective moment had begun, it ended in a wild dash toward the water. Shouts and laughs and good-natured shoves and arm grabs accompanied our ruckus. The flopping of our various fleshy bits as we stumbled along the forest floor was immediately hilarious. Even Skye's perfectly proportioned breasts jiggled to mirror her uneven strides. We all reached the sandy shore at more or less the same time, all glad to be done with rocks and pine needles in our feet.
"Ohmigod this is cold!" I breathed out as I got maybe ankle-deep in the water. Similar shrieks rose from the group as the frigid lake water took us in. I could feel the chilled blood rising up my legs as I skidded to a halt, even with only the bottom of my calves getting wet. I glanced back and most people had already stepped backwards away from the water.
"What the hell is up with this?" One of the guys said, clutching his arms around his chest.
"I think they had late snow this year," said one of the others, one of the few still wading forward. I watched him get to his knees before stopping. "Nope, I'm out."
I was feeling the general group consensus that a swim was a bad idea when I looked out again toward the lake. Skye was already up to her waist and sloshing forward. Even with just my feet now in the water, I felt myself shivering involuntarily. An elevating twinge of concern began to streak through my head as I watched her making like she was about to dive in.
"Skye!" I called, "come on back, okay?"
Connor had appeared next to me. "Just let her do her thing, you know how she is," he added with a raised eyebrow.
I tried not to sneer at him and turned my gaze toward her.
"Skye! It's too cold!"
She heard me after the second yell and stopped, turning to look. We locked eyes and even in the failing light, I could see her expression had changed. Gone was the confident I like being nude in front of people, likely the backstory for Connor's comment. She looked maybe not scared, but concerned. She simply stared at me, her face going kind of slack.
I glanced over my shoulder to see most of the group heading back up through the trees, Connor simply clapped me on the shoulder and followed them.
"Please come back," I said toward the water again, "I think we're all done."
Skye didn't answer, but didn't take her gaze off me either. I'm not sure how long we stood there, but I know it was about two seconds shorter than the time I would have rushed into the water to pull her back. She started taking slow, halting steps toward the shore and I nodded vigorously, holding a hand out like I was somehow going to pull her back in after falling overboard off the side of a boat. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh as she emerged, pale and dripping the crystal clear lake water.
I finally tromped in knee-deep and grabbed both of her hands, they were icy cold.
"Skye, are you okay? Please say something!"
"I'm f-f-f-fine," she stuttered. "S'not as cold as everyone thinks."
"Yes it is," I laughed nervously. Despite still being a hundred percent naked, I hugged her around the chest. Her skin against me was almost as bad as the water. "Come on, we need to get you warm."
I laced my fingers in hers and pulled her into the trees, up the path toward camp. I began to get more worried that I seemed to be actually pulling her, her effort in following me was declining.
"Just a little further," I said. As we reached the clearing, everyone was drying off and pulling on pants and thick sweatshirts over their clammy skin.
"Towels!" I said, trying to keep calm. Devyn was still undressed and drying off, and grabbed two towels from a stack on the chair next to her.
As we stepped into the light of the fire, I could see what I'd been worrying about. All the exposed skin I could still see, mine, Devyn's, a few others — it reflected the warm color of the fire. Skye's skin was closer to her hair, a pale neutral gray. My brain flashed back to the last color I added to her drawing. To balance something warm and appear colorless, you add blue. The thought hit me, she's blue. I didn't want to freak out, but I was pretty sure she had at least a mild case of hypothermia.
"Skye," I whispered in her ear, "are you cold?"
"Yesss..." she said, starting to actively shiver.
I thought back to anything I'd heard or read about cold exposure. I remembered that feeling cold and shivering was good, it's when the person seemed to feel fine and stopped shivering that you were in trouble. I glanced around the thinning group, most had gone to the tents for more clothes or were puttering around the outdoor kitchen. Skye just stood next to me, her beautiful body pale and shaking.
"Devyn," I said quietly, "we need to get her warm." I know the seriousness in my voice rang true.
"Okay," she answered. "So like... in the movies? Use our body heat?"
We shared a glance at each other, somehow getting over the fact that the three of us were still quite naked.
"I think so," I said, both of us turning to look at Skye. I grabbed her hand and pulled us closer to the fire, Devyn circling around. The two of us awkwardly exchanged towels and positions around Skye.
"Just do it," said Devyn, a crack of a smile forming on her mouth. "And go on, you take the fun side."
It took me a second to understand, but she gently pushed Skye's naked body against mine. Devyn made quick work of wrapping towels over our backs while I tried to normalize the chilled skin against mine. I finally relaxed and turned it into more of a hug, my arms draped over Skye's shoulders. Devyn finally came up from behind and sandwiched our patient between us.
"Ohmigod, she's cold," said Devyn, adding another towel around us. "Skye honey, you're still conscious, right?"
She'd nuzzled her head against my chest, and faintly nodded. The shaking was now intermittent, sporadically hitting a leg or an arm as the three of us stood there soaking up heat from the fire. I eventually stretched my arms out to include Devyn in the hug, pulling us even closer together. I thought I heard two distinct contented noises, but couldn't be sure.
A small part of my brain was sincerely appreciating just the physical contact, the idea that our bare bodies were pressed together. As my own temperature rose, I began to better feel the shape of her against me. The soft flesh of her breasts against my chest, even more so as they started to warm. I'd wished for a moment much like this for days, but without the hypothermia of course.
After what was probably ten minutes, I was roused out of some kind of dream state to the sound of wooden thunks. I looked up to see Eric and one of the other guys placing more wood on the fire. Eric looked at me, probably intuiting exactly what had happened, given our state. He appeared to be giving Skye a visual once-over, and finally gave me a subtle nod that felt as confirming as his crushing handshake.
It had been a few minutes since I'd felt her shiver, which I thought to be a good thing considering we were all getting warmer. One of us shifted a little and I felt Devyn pull away.
"I think you got this from here," she said quietly, wrapping the towel around her torso and cute, perky breasts. "Sage... you're a good guy." She made her way toward the girls tent and disappeared inside.
I rewrapped a towel around Skye's back, feeling her now warmer skin. I let out a deep sigh and pulled her against me tighter.
"Thank you," Skye whispered, her head still against my chest.
"Are you sure you're okay? I was kinda worried there for a bit."
"Yeah," she said, straightening her head up to gaze at me. Her normal smile was back. "It's usually warmer, I promise."
I chuckled and breathed deeply. I knew from the slick spots of sweat forming between us that she had indeed righted her body temperature, but I didn't want to let go. She seemed to be in no hurry either.
A few people had plopped into chairs around the fire, but didn't otherwise make a big deal of us still standing there in the buff. Eventually, we wordlessly agreed to separate and get dressed. While I would have gladly stood by the fire for the rest of the night with her in my arms. Somehow, the clothes now separating us made our goodnight half-hug more awkward than when we'd been naked.
As we started to separate and make our way to the tents, Connor hopped up from his chair and followed her. I stopped in my tracks and stared at them as he pulled her in for a hug.
"Glad you're okay, it's a good thing we got you all warmed up and cozy. You good?"
I couldn't see Skye's face, and only saw her nod back. I stared daggers at Connor, almost hoping he saw me. Of course he was still gazing at her and obviously pretending I didn't exist. My cheeks were fiery and my pulse quickened as I continued into the tent.
Fuck that guy.
I lay there in my sleeping bag, the only light in the otherwise utter darkness was the flickering of the dying campfire through the opening in the tent flap. The chemicals running through my brain were keeping me awake so I kept my eyes open, watching the faint lines on the canvas. As I shifted to get comfortable in the sleeping bag, my brain was in a jumbled state I'd become more used to in the past week.
The part that wanted to hop up and gut punch Connor had tapered off in the last few minutes. Good looking douchebags were a dime a dozen. I'd known them in high school, and I'm sure there would be more. If I could spot his opportunistic assholery, I hoped Skye could too.
The next chunk of my consciousness was decidedly more mixed. These first two puzzle pieces certainly interlocked in my gray matter. Was I angry at Skye for not brushing off or correcting the douchebag like he deserved? Why not set the record straight, if not in front of everyone, at least for him? Certainly she knew I was within earshot.
How about a little recognition for me then? I probably didn't save her life or anything, but still...
Maybe it was a flash of plain and simple jealousy.
The final odd collection of thoughts was equally hopeful and nervous. Even though I was the only one who seemingly cared enough to help her, to pay attention and recognize what was happening, there was something else. Right? Pressing naked flesh together to transfer body heat was certainly scientific and clinical, but god... it felt like more. The way she leaned her head into my chest, the soft and adorable little noises I'm not sure she knew I heard, everything felt like it was echoing the bizarre and magical pieces of the last week. If the process of warming her was going to take longer and she just had to be in this sleeping bag with me right now, I would have felt like I had won the lottery.
Skye was sweet, witty, a little crazy, and a lot beautiful. If I truly had even a shred of opportunity here, could I even handle it?
I finally fell asleep to the sounds of snoring and the still crackling fire. If my thoughts made noise, nobody would have been able to sleep.
* * *
What the— where am I?
It was still very dark and after a moment I managed to recall where I was. My feet were cold, despite being well ensconced in the borrowed sleeping bag. I lifted my head and stared in the direction of the tent flap. A tiny sliver of gray was visible through the trees. If I'd been in my room I'd have certainly rolled over and gone back to sleep. With the swirling already starting in my head, I knew that wasn't happening.
As quietly as I could, I slithered out of the bag and found my jeans and shoes. I'd slept in my hoodie, the drawstring cinched around my face. Tiptoeing out of the tent, I felt the lump of my phone and hoped it still had battery left. The clock read well before six. I stood by the fire pit for a moment hoping there was some residual heat. Nada. The glint of the sky on the still lake caught my eye and I walked into the trees.
I looked both directions as I got to the shore, wondering how many other people were camping around the lake.
Hopefully none of them were stupid enough to go skinny dipping.
I'm not sure if it was the cold in my toes or a short night of strange dreams, but the nervous vibrations in my gut had dropped a few levels. In a bout of very adult thinking for this early in the morning, my brain skipped ahead. I thought about the next years I'd spend here at school, the other experiences and opportunities I'd have. That chance event in that drawing class I'd taken freshman year would be just one of a hundred memories that would make me who I was, the hopefully well-rounded adult with a good job and a decent future. I'd meet more interesting people, maybe even a girlfriend or two. I wasn't sure how long I'd stood there on the shore, but let out a contented sigh that blew a little wisp of fog toward the water.
A brief juvenile impulse begged me to stoop down to pick up a stone to skip. The warm hands shoved into my jeans pockets eventually won their protest, wanting to stay warm where they were. I noticed the gray dawn sky had just started to tinge with pink. My reverie had apparently dulled my hearing until someone was right next to me.
"G'mornin, you," said Skye, her voice a little scratchy.
I didn't have enough adrenaline on twitch in surprise. She threaded an arm through my elbow and slipped her hand back into the tummy pocket of her hoodie.
"Morning," I said, my voice similarly affected by a night of campfire smoke and cold air.
"Sleep good?"
"Not really. You?"
"Eh," she said, turning to look up at me. "Weird dreams."
I had a brief thought to pull my hand from my pocket and separate from her, but I ignored it.
"Since we're up early," Skye continued, "walk with me?"
"Alright."
She led us down to the shore then along the water. I hadn't really seen the entire shape of the small lake as we'd dashed in the night before. It was maybe a half mile across, and was now pleasingly calm, if still dangerously cold. We walked along the edge of the lake counterclockwise, indeed seeing a few other camps. One was up and about with a crackling fire, but most were as quiet as ours.
We'd strolled arm in arm for probably half an hour, silent and simply taking in the surroundings. I had a couple of peaks of mental activity that tugged at pleasant memories of the last week, but let them fade before they got to my mouth. It was Skye that finally spoke first.
"Sage," she said softly as she pulled me to a stop.
I turned to look at her. Like mine, her hoodie was cinched a little to provide warmth. A few strands of her silver hair still framed the portion of her beautiful face. The expression she wore was one I hadn't seen. It looked rather like I usually felt around her, a little tense, a little nervous, but excited.
"Do you like me?" she finally got out.
My chest tightened and I felt my adrenal gland working again.
What do I say here?
Threads of analysis started on multiple outcomes, most leading towards a gentle letdown scenario. Was she in reality more like Connor? Was I just some opportunity that happened to catch her eye? If I was, maybe I could douchebag up and take whatever I could extract from the same opportunity?
That's how a lot of casual relationships work. You gotta just go for it and see what happens, right?
Could I do that?
I let out a long held breath and for some reason, started walking again. Still locked at the elbows, she followed. I knew that even if I could be that kind of person someday, it wasn't today. I needed to be honest, I needed to protect myself.
"Skye," I said, her name still turning my mouth up as I said it. God, I can't believe I'm gonna say this. "I think you're kinda my Ramona Flowers."
My brain was already working the three possible outcomes. The first was that she wouldn't get the Scott Pilgrim Saves the World reference and I'd more firmly cement my geekhood in her eyes.
The next two assumed she'd seen the obscure movie. The first of those scenarios, she'd get offended at the comparison. I hoped there was some chance for the third choice, where she both understood and took it as some kind of compliment, but I honestly didn't see that path.
"Are you saying I'm your manic pixie dream girl?"
I sucked in a sharp breath and whipped my head to face her, suddenly expecting some movie-appropriate anime expression of surprise literally painting itself on her face. She looked truly amused with the comment, so I let my film trope geek out.
"Well, you have to admit there are similarities."
She laughed brightly, tossing her head back. "Well, go on then."
The fact that she knew the movie and wasn't immediately ticked off, it opened some kind of brain spigot that allowed my words to start flowing.
"You're really gonna make me spell it out? Fine. You just kinda show up in my life and turn everything upside down with your crazy energy, and you're like unattainable and ridiculously beautiful, and I'm always nervous around you."
"You're nervous around me?" she asked sweetly.
"Well, yeah," I said, glancing down at the wet sand. "I mean, in a good way. You've kinda made me try new things outside my comfort zone, and... you do seem to just appear and disappear to move the plot along."
"Okay, okay," she cut in, then giggled. "I haven't made you fight any of my exes yet though."
I'm sure my eyes went wide as I giggled, both of us aware that one of her exes was quite nearby. She grinned even wider.
"Kidding!" she laughed. "Alright, I'll concede there may be some minor manic and/or pixie elements to my half of our relationship. But if we break it down to me actually being an MPDG, my goal in your story would be to level you up or teach you something, right?"
"Yeah, I guess so." I thought about it for a minute, my original assertion now even more true than when it had left my lips. She certainly had pushed me toward some new places, and some old places I'd left behind.
"Sage, you know I wouldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to do, right?" A concerned look tugged at her eyes. "I hope I haven't made you—"
"No," I cut in. "I really appreciate everything you've done, for real. I haven't drawn anything that I've cared about in so long, it was..."