An Artist's Intention

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Standard College Drama

Suddenly, I heard a slamming door just outside of my room. It startled me, forcing me to jump out of my momentary burst of determination. Next thing I heard was faint shouting and screaming from the hall. Whatever was going on, it had to be standard dorm drama. Then, almost as I expected, there was a harsh knock on my door. I sighed heavily, groaning even, and stood up. I reluctantly opened the door.

There was Felicity, eyes red and puffy from crying. “Saige, thank god, you’re here!” she wept. I took in a deep breath, trying to hide my frustration, and annoyance. “Are you, like, available?”

“Absolutely,” I lied through my teeth, a fake smile spreading across my face. “Come on in.” Felicity didn’t hesitate, pushing past me and immediately taking a seat on my bed. But right before I could close my door, a foot jammed itself into it. I struggled for a moment before Rachel decided to shove the door in my face and force me to fly backward.

“I already told you nothing happened!” she screamed. Felicity stood up and pointed accusingly at her.

“Then what was with those emails!”

“Why were you in my email account anyway?!”

“Why were you trying to hide them!”

“I wasn’t hiding anything!”

I slowly pushed the door shut, rubbing my head from the point of impact. “Okay,” I exhaled impatiently. I addressed them both with the best kindness I could muster, and that was minimal at best. “So, what’s happening?”

Felicity shoved Rachel to the side. “This whore was secretly emailing Elliot behind my back!”

“Elliot?” I questioned instantly. Was this what he was messaging me about that morning? Suddenly, it all made sense. “Um…what about, exactly?”

“What else? Lingerie, swimsuits, even nudes!” I had to fight to keep myself from bursting out in laughter. Frankly, there was already so much wrong with the situation, but not in the way that Felicity thought. Rachel forced Felicity to look at her.

“Give me one reason why I would ever send those kinds of emails to Elliot, of all people!”

“I don’t know! You didn’t have a problem doing it with your ex.”

“Yea! When we were together! I ditched him for you, remember?” Rachel shouted. “I hardly know Elliot. You know this!”

“I thought I did!” Felicity continued crying, pushing Rachel away from her. Felicity turned to me, practically begging me to help her. I was trying so hard not to laugh. “I want an immediate room change! I’m not going to share the same space with a two-timing hussy!”

“Hussy? Really?” Rachel mumbled.

“Come on, Saige. You can have me out by the end of the day, right?”

Finally, I had to push down all my laughter and address them seriously. “Um, Felicity, I don’t think that’s going to be necessary.”

“Why not? You think I deserve to suffer?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Rachel snapped. “I didn’t send Elliot anything!”

“May I see the pictures, please?” I requested.

“Absolutely!” Felicity replied and she ran from the room. Once alone with Rachel, I turned to her with an amused expression.

“So…Elliot?”

“I don’t know,” she sighed. “I was just as surprised to find those photos.”

“I figured as much. That does beg the question, though. You know where they came from?”

“I wish I could tell you. Honestly, I’m starting to think I was hacked, but I have no idea where the pictures came from. I don’t even own a swimsuit. I’m allergic to chlorine, remember?”

“Oh, I do, but Felicity seems to be struggling a bit. There’s also another important detail she seems to be forgetting about Elliot.”

“You’re telling me.”

“Found them!” Felicity screamed as she stormed back into the room, laptop in hand. “Here.” She practically threw the laptop into my hands. I scrolled through the pictures as “carefully” as I was supposed to. Within seconds, I returned the laptop to Rachel and looked at Felicity with a raised brow.

“Felicity, I don’t exactly know how to tell you this, but that’s not Rachel.”

“Yes, it is! Look at her stomach! Her birthmark is there!”

“That’s make-up, you idiot!” Rachel shouted. “Felicity, I don’t own a swimsuit! You know this!”

Felicity’s expression dropped for a split second. “Wait, no, you own a swimsuit. Especially this one. Purple’s your favorite color. Of course, you own a purple swimsuit.”



SavannahGeorgia

Edited: 15.02.2019

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