Obstruction

Jean Genie

- David Bowie, Jean Genie -

"Thanks for talking me up before the contest," Ethan said at lunch.

We were sat alone at 'our' table. Just the two of us.

"No problem. It's what friends do," I replied.

"Friends," he smiled.

"Yeah... I mean... You're pretty high up on my list of favourite people. Telling you that you're awsome is all part of the package," I told him with a smile.

I loved these relaxed moments with him. When we could just talk.
About anything.
When it felt natural.
Comfortable.
Like slipping on a pair of woollen socks and drinking hot chocolate on a cold winter evening.

"You're pretty awsome too, Izzy," he smiled.

"Thanks," I replied.

"So. How high exactly am I on that list of people?" He asked with a curious twist of his lip.

"Fairly close to the top. Within the top five," I said with a wide smile back.

"I'm guessing that guy you're crushing on has the top spot?" He asked without looking at me.

"Huh?" I asked feeling confused.

That guy? What guy?

"Yeah... I mean... You've been all giggly and stuff," he muttered.

I sat there feeling slightly hollow. And bewildered. I stayed quiet.

"And the Roberta Flack song? We didn't even play that at the valentine gig, but you rehearsed it for someone," he said quietly.

I stared at him wondering if my moment had come. But he wasn't looking at me. I couldn't read his face. I didn't know if he was teasing me or trying to be an encouraging friend.

"He should be grateful. Whoever it is," Ethan mumbled.

I tried pulling in a breath but realised I was already holding hard onto the last inhale I took. I exhaled slowly trying to find even a small trace of courage to say "It's you".

He looked up at me with a small, crooked smile.
My brain scrambled.
There was a wild animal inside my ribcage. Beating at the bars for its freedom. Wanting to run across the table.
To him.
My inner fangirl was screaming at top volume, begging me to say three small words that would change everything.
And I was terrified.
Of his reaction.
Of his rejection.

"The next time he's at one of the gigs. We could do a dedication and see if he takes the hint," Ethan suggested looking like it was the worst idea he'd ever had.

It broke my spell. Snapping me out of it.
I started laughing.

"That's a stupid idea," I giggled.

"Why?" He asked.

"It just wouldn't work. I've kinda already tried," I replied, thinking of all the times I had been flirting and singing love songs, lyric lines, straight at him.

"He's that slow, huh?" Ethan asked with a subtle smirk.

"Or my hints are just terrible," I grinned back.

- March 7th -

The Academy Winter Art exhibition was held on the first Saturday of March.
I had three paintings up in the spacious gallery style lobby of the Arts building.

I had painted in an old fashioned japanese style, but given my Geisha a book instead of her traditional fan. Brains over beauty. She was also dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, but the drawingstyle made it look like a kimono.
My kabuki actor was based on a photo of Ethan's great grandfather and done as a 1920's kabuki poster. Complete with grimaces. Ethan's dad had helped me with the japanese characters written along the right hand edge from top to bottom. Translated it read "Takumi Katzuo, wanderer among stars", to name the actor and, as a nod to japanese tradition, signal that he was a respected ancestor.
My third painting was a portrait, done in brush and ink on rice paper. I had used a youth picture of Ethan's grandmother in traditional kimono dress as my model.
I was actually rather proud of my work.
I had focused on techniques, culture and looks rather than try to create something modern.
On a sidetable, I had placed a portfolio of my sketchwork so visitors could see how much work I had put into the details.