The large metal door clicks shut behind me, and the warm Colorado sun kisses the bare skin of my arms. The loading dock reflects me, inside and out: not much to look at and empty. Two girls accepted me, one of the best artists in North America likes my work and whether he meant to or not, my boyfriend embarrassed me. Crap. Just crap. Behind me the door squeaks open. It’s Noah. I can sense him, taste him. Like he’s been absorbed into my pores. Like he’s embedded into my being. The urge is to run to him, to embrace him, to have his arms shelter me like they have so many times this summer, but this constant push and pull will never end if I do. Footsteps against the loading dock and the sound of material rustling. Noah’s shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. I’ve seen him do it a million times, and I can picture him clearly in my mind: his jeans riding low against his hips, his body cocked to one side, his biceps straining as he tries to look relaxed, when on the inside he’s anything but.
What do You think about Breaking The Rules (2014)?
