poetry,” I said, holding out my hand for him to shake.
“I’m more of a hugging kind of person,” he said, ignoring my outstretched hand to pull me in. I automatically stiffened since I wasn’t much of a hugger. It must be a trait I inherited from my dad because my mom is the exact opposite. She would hug a stranger on the street. Even Tressa and I were more the punch-in-the-arm kind of friends than hugging it out. “I’d like you to meet my friend Justin,” Rob finally said, releasing me. I knew by the chuckling behind me that it was too much of a coincidence to pray that his friend was not the same Justin who had hit on me the previous week.
“Brittni, is it? I told you I’d be alone the next time we met,” the same voice drawled.
I turned around to acknowledge him after flashing a glare at Melissa, who looked completely mystified.
“You two know each other?” she asked, looking questioningly at Rob, who looked equally confused.
“Yeah, we had the honor of meeting last week,” I answered sarcastically. “Did you leave your Playboy bunnies at the mansion, or are they fetching you a drink?” I added, making a production of looking around. I knew I was being an uber bitch. I had no idea what was wrong with me. So he was a flirt. Half the males at UW were flirts. It just rubbed me the wrong way that he had no problem flirting with me while he was with someone else.
“I told you, they’re just friends, so sheathe the sword, honey,” he answered smoothly, completely unscathed by my biting tone.
“What is the matter with you?” Melissa hissed in my ear.
“Nothing,” I mumbled out of the corner of my mouth, feeling slightly abashed at my behavior.
“Well, knock it off. It’s rude to insult the artist at his first showing,” she said through gritted teeth, looking embarrassed for me.
“This is
your
show?” I asked unbelievingly.
“Surprised again? How could a bad boy have actually left the tattoo parlor and dropped the beer long enough to create something, right?” he quizzed, smirking at me.
“Absolutely,” I answered, smiling grudgingly at him for the first time. “Of course, I’ll reserve further judgment until I look around.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you,” he answered, with the same smirk on his face. It was clear he was enjoying himself immensely.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me,” I said apologetically, turning toward my friend, who was studying me like I was a creature that had just crawled up from the pits of some swamp. She looked at me with an equal mixture of horror and morbid fascination. I couldn’t blame her. In the year and half that we had been roommates, I had never acted like this. Sure, I could be standoffish, but I was never stuck up. It was like I was channeling my inner Mean Girl.
Rob, on the other hand, was openly laughing.
“What’s so funny, bro?” Justin asked.
“Did you say ‘bad boy’? More like ‘dud boy,’” he said, gasping for air.
“Don’t be a douche-stick. I could totally be a bad boy,” Justin complained, socking Rob in the arm.
“Riiiiight.”
“I’m so glad I asked you here tonight to lend some moral support,” Justin said dryly.
“Dude, I’ve got your back on your art, but the bad-boy status is a no-go,” Rob said, slinging an arm around Melissa’s shoulders. “So, let’s show these ladies your kick-ass artwork,” he added, leading Melissa into the main room of the building.
“You game?” Justin asked me, nodding toward the room.
“Sure, let’s see what you got,” I said, following along, but not sure what to expect. Maybe something abstract, like art created from metal or maybe beer bottles. Stepping throughthe doorway, though, I was completely caught off-guard at what I saw. The art on display in front of me stopped me in my tracks.
“What do you think?” Justin asked, turning to look back at me.
I couldn’t speak as I took in the pieces scattered throughout the room. I