[Image Caption: Avery Barron working on her cow painting.]

“Next time you start a painting, try to think about what inspired you,” he drags on, not willing to drop it yet. “Don’t let it confuse you. An artist should always know what they’re doing.” 

“Well, maybe part of the charm will be the fact that it’s confusing,” I cut in. 

Cameron gives me this questioning look like he’s trying to figure out why I’m arguing with him. I’m not meaning to. I mainly want him to shut up and stop showing off. I have work to do, and he’s being obnoxious. Rudolf didn’t even ask for his help.

He turns back to Rudolf and keeps badgering him, but at this point, I pretty much tune out. I need to get started on this project if I want to be able to plan the rest of my week around the next stupid abstract assignment. Thankfully, not all of my classes are this terrible. I’m in an independent study. That’s the last credit I need for my major, and I’m allowed to make anything I want as long as it meets the standard. I’m actually working on a huge painting for my portfolio right now. It’s a cow. She’s not a particularly elegant cow...she’s pretty lumpy, but I like the colors. There’s something about muddled greens and yellows that I always end up coming back to. There’s something ugly about those colors. People hate them. That’s why I love it. 

Cameron should really get started. He wanted to come down here to work on his shit, so he should quit pestering Rudolf.

Rose comes up behind me. “That looks really cool,” she says.

“Yeah, it’s all right.”

“It’s so cute,” she gets up close and personal. “You even gave her a bull ring.”

“Thanks,” I reply, curling my upper lip and pressing it against my septum jewelry. “I felt like it would look good on her, too.”

Female cows usually don’t have these. Cameron eloquently pointed that out when I started working on her, but...I don’t care. She’s just edgy or something. She probably hangs out at the saloon and drinks so much beer that her milk is sour. I hope all the boys are intimidated by her.

I wonder what more Cameron is going to have to say about this piece now that it’s almost done. He’ll inevitably say something, whether that’s good or bad. Either way, nothing he says is going to sway me.

“Thanks, babe,” I say, trying to sound sincere.

“You’re welcome,” she puts a hand on my shoulder. “I love these little animals you draw. I haven’t seen anything else like them. ” 

“Thank you,” I say again. “Seriously, thanks.” 

“I’m not complimenting you, jeez,” she teases, wrapping her arms around my neck and hugging me. “I’m just telling you the truth.”

“You’re a fruit,” I tell her.

“You’re a fruit!” she retorts.

I laugh. “Thanks, babe,” I lift my brush and go back to working on my painting. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” she says, planting a kiss on my temple. “I don’t really want to, but...I should go. I ran out of dish soap two days ago and still haven’t made it to the store.”

“How could you?” I slap a hand over my heart and feign hurt. 

She knots her fingers in my hair and gives a playful tug. 

“Ow! I was just kidding!” I exclaim. “Thanks for driving us over here. Sorry it wasn’t more fun.”

“It was totally fun,” she insists.

“All right, if you say so.”

She gives me a peck on the lips. “I’ll call you later.” Then she turns to Cameron and says goodbye.

“See you,” he echoes, not really paying attention. 

“Nice meeting you, Rudolf,” she adds, waving to him. He waves back but doesn’t respond. 

With that, she’s out the door. I turn back to my painting and start filling in some of the blank spaces, putting on the finishing touches. Cameron also seems to be mostly done with whatever the hell it is he’s been working on. Now he’s back chattering at Rudolf, who’s answering curtly. I try my best to ignore them, and eventually, I finish. I finally pull my paint thinner out and start soaking and blotting.

Cameron notices and pauses his conversation, wandering over. “You done?” he asks, poking his head around my canvas. 

I nod, and he pauses to evaluate. “This is a lot more like you,” he says.

“Totally,” I agree, trying to sound like I don’t care. I’m honestly just glad that he’s not getting on my case.

“Is it one of your animals?” Rudolf asks, not bothering to come over and see. 

“Yeah. That’s pretty much all I do.”

“I saw some of them in the junior show last year,” he adds.

I wait for him to elaborate, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to. He must not have much to say.

“Is it a self-portrait?” Cameron asks with a snicker. 

“Shut the fuck up, man.”

“I’m just kidding. It’s cool,” he says, nodding his approval. “This fleshy color scheme is pretty typical for you, but it suits the entire theme you’ve got going on. It’s pretty grotesque, but in a fascinating way.” 

“All right, thanks,” I say. “Well, I’m done here. I’m going to put this away and go home. I have my weight class later.” 

Cameron gives me a thumbs up. “I’ll stick around. I’ve still got some work to knock out.”

“Cool, see you later,” I say as I gather my shit.

I leave the studio and head downstairs, stopping by my locker to drop off my supplies. I’ll leave my painting here for the weekend. Then Monday, I’ll come pick it up before class. 

Once I’m done, I throw my scarf, hat, and gloves back on, getting bundled for the bus ride home. The metro in Minneapolis is good, but nothing compares to the New York subway. At least that shit’s underground, so you’re out of the snow and wind.  Luckily, the stop I’m headed to isn’t far from the building, so I scramble the numbers on my padlock and head out.