My canvas bag is heavy, and weighing down my small frame walking to the Art building. I wave goodbye to Kat as she walks away to the Music Building, her tousled bob bouncing with each gallop.

They say when choosing a major to choose a career path you will be proud of, but most importantly one you have a great interest in. So many people fail to heed this advice, they think about the big bucks and spend their days counting down to retirement. That's a path I refuse to travel, luckily my family supports my passion for art, attending every art show or unveiling I had to offer.

When I was five my distant Aunt Maggie mailed me an art set, the kind that includes an array of children's art supplies. I've been obsessed ever since, drawing and painting everything I seen. Mostly people, sometimes I sketch people in the way I imagine them. Last night before bed I sketched Avery, well his hand at least. A smooth charcoal hand outstretched, beckoning my own to dance. It's been two weeks and no sign of Avery, or his hand. On my way to classes I drive through Greek Village, trying my best not to look stalker-ish hoping to see him outside.

I can't just go to the Omega house, that would be too desperate. I need him to come to me instead. I try not to dwell on it but how can I not? Like when a guy seduces you into a risky one-night-stand, and doesn't call it hurts a little; it eats at you even. Good enough for a night of free spirited sex, but not for a coffee after? It's brutal.

But. . . For a charming guy to publicly display his interest in you, and just disappear, well that's just torture.

***
"Good afternoon." Professor Elkin welcomes the class, standing at his podiom. "I hope you all done your reading during the weekend." He smiles, grasping the wooden edges. Salt and pepper curls tickle the shoulders of his twead vest, form fitting and decorated with a plum tie.

For his late fifties I have to admit he's kind of handsome, in a Sam Elliott way.

"Art is one of the most free forms of expression." He continues. "You can write a novel and the audience will imagine the scene, but when you imagine something and visually bring it to life, it's magical." He explains. "Whether it's a painting, sculpture, or drawing; a piece of art can bring emotions to the surface. Emotion you didn't know you had."

I lose myself in the lecture, absorbing every syllable. There is no need for taking notes, back home nobody understands art the way Elkin does, his words will stay with me even if I tried ripping them out. After the class comes to a close Professor Elkin bids adieu to each student. As he shakes my hand I see a peace sign tattooed on his forearm, I imagine him in the late sixties; an artsy hippie driving a VW Bus. I kindly tell him goodbye, leaving the smell of paint and paper with him at the door.

I sit patiently on a bench outside the music building for Kat to show up, a lanky fellow holds a neon yellow flyer in front of my face.
"Candle light memorial tonight at eight." He quickly states, before moving to another person, and then another until he's out of earshot.
I ponder the flyer.
It reads:
Anniversary memorial for Iris Woods.
Monday 8:00pm. at Campus Courtyard

A blurry photo of a pretty girl in a sundress rests in the center of the paper, a wide happy smile on her feminine face. I frown at the flyer with shaken emotion, she was so young; too young to die.

Not noticing her, Kat stands over my shoulder. Tears begin filling her eyes and she fights them back, covering the pain in her face when she notices me looking at her concerned.
"Did you know her?" I ask gently.
"Yes, she was a sweet girl." Kat croaks. "And talented too. She was a violinist, came here from Florida on a scholarship." She continues, placing herself next to me on the bench.

"What happened?" I tread, trying not to prod too far.
"Nobody knows really. She was fine, and then one day she walks onto the roof of the library. . .and she jumped." She informs.
Kat and I sit in silence for a minute staring at the gum covered pavement. Finally she stands, wiping her eyes and turns to me.
"Come on, I promised you lunch." She says before taking my hand, once again in her tow I'm starting to grasp that this is just one of the things she does when she's nervous.

Kat takes me beyond campus to a little pizza spot that doesn't offer seating, just high tables to stand at and eat. We eat our slices, which are delicious by the way while Kat teaches me the importance of folding the slice. "You have to fold it in New York, you just do!" She demands.
"Still no sign of Avery." I express to her, sitting my half eaten pizza on its flimsy paper plate, now partially saturated in grease.
Kat examines me over her food, "Strange." She chewed. "He's usually so involved around campus at the beginning of a semester. Have you tried Omega?" A drop of sauce sits idly on the corner of her mouth. I giggle and hand over a napkin, and she wipes it away embarrassed.
"Are you joking? I can't just go knock on the door I would look insane!" I say.
"I wouldn't worry about it, I still think he's gay." Kat smirks.
We stroll down the sidewalk window shopping, and once we make it to Lava's Coffee House we are in desperate need of coffee. So far in college I've learned there's no such thing as too much coffee; you need coffee when you wake up, when you study, walking, talking, and if course when hungover. Business is booming at the only coffee house on campus. It's a sweet little spot. A large dive bar renovated into a dark, insense filled bean hole. Large rugs blanket the floor, wooden booths and couches spread the floor plan, and a small corner reserved for open mic nights.

I order our fix while Kat finds a spot on a open couch, at the bar I greet Jack the owner with a smile.
"The usual I presume?" He says flirting. His fiery hair burns under the overhanging lights in a curly inferno, as well as his tattoo covered arms; a collage of lyrics, each in a different language.
"Are we that predictable?" I scoff.
"Well, you come here everyday and it's always the same order." He laughs.
"Tell you what." He continues. "My barista just quit, and since you're here everyday. . . I could really use a pretty girl like yourself around." Jack cuts his eyes behind me then back at me. "You pull Omega guys like him in here I'll retire early." He says, nudging his head in the direction behind me. I whip my head around and see Avery across the room burning a hole through Jack with his eyes, and diverts his attention when he sees me looking at him. Out of your hole are we?

I turn back to jack, he holds his hands together prayer style repeatedly saying please like a little kid.
"I could use the money. . ." I begin before Jack jumps up and down thanking me over and over.
"You just saved my life!" He exclaims.

I pivot around bodies to get to my seat making a mental note to be back for my first day tomorrow at four am, being extra extra careful to not glance at Mr.Casanova with the bipolar eyes.
"Guess who just got a job, and starts tomorrow." I chirp at Kat.
"That's awesome, free coffee!" Kat toasts. My throat clenches as I feel a tap on my shoulder.
"Ladies?" Avery and a dozen of his Brothers stand around the couches, some I know are pledges judging by their bare torso's, each chest has a woman's name painted in pink.
Kat instantly flips her flirt switch, "We thought you were kidnapped." She jokes at Avery.
"I was away on business." He tells her. "Nancy!" He barks. A scrawny young man clearly frozen to the bone steps forward, his painted chest arched outward with honor. "Yes, Brother Avery?" He obeys.
"Present the ladies with their invites!" He barks again like a drill sergeant. Pledge Nancy removes a piece of paper from his pocket, and hands them over to Kat and I. It's a party invitation for Saturday night.
The pledge obediently falls back in line as they march out of Lava's, Avery takes my hand again and gently bows before following his brothers. A speachless Kat and I stare at each other, and fall into a fit of giggles.

With our cups drained Kat leaves to the memorial for Iris Woods. I decide to not go since I never knew her, then out of nowhere my phone chimes. Its a text from Zen, all it reads is: "We need to talk. Now!

I gulp as my phone begins to ring.