Intaglio: The Snake and the Coins (17 page)

Cole was
breathing hard now, his body gripped by something.  The image from the art
history class that bothered Ava so much –
blood and flesh and darkness
–
appeared in her mind, only this time, it wasn’t Shay’s rage, but Cole’s
mother’s despair that it showed.

“My god...” Ava
whispered, watching Cole struggle, the tormented words coming out in starts and
stops. 

“She was in the
bathroom… she’d… she’d been there for almost a day, or at least that was what the
coroner said.  She’d slit her wrists...”  Cole turned and burrowed
his face against Ava's neck. His next words were almost lost.  “My father
took her death hard.  He has always blamed me, Ava, for being there… and
not finding her in time to save her.”

It had been two
weeks since her panic attack in the Art History classroom and Ava still
couldn’t look at the image without revulsion.  She knew she should study
for Friday’s final exam, but every time she opened her art history text book,
she found herself focused on the horror of Bacon’s image.  It was too much
to deal with right now… so she didn’t.

She
procrastinated instead.

Reaching the
page, Ava traced the luridly coloured print with her fingertip… the screaming
face with the bloody sides of beef behind it.
‘They look like wings,’
she thought in disgust, unable to will herself to look away.  She
continued to stare down at the tortured face.
‘Lifeless… already dead… or
worse...’
she thought, snapping the book closed before the rest of her
thought could finish:

‘Death
itself.’ 

She’d had that
thought more than once lately, especially in the dark hours when she’d awoken
from the nightmares the painting gave her.  The imagery was the same every
time: a terrible storm on the ocean, her body battered by broken flotsam,
pounded by waves.  Ava winced, remembering.  Bloated corpses floated
around her, the sea riddled with them.  There was something with wings
there too, like the image in the textbook… though she could never remember
exactly
what it was
once she awakened.  She just knew that the
image of it meant death to her, and seeing it always left her terrified. 

The winged
figure’s appearance meant something
. 

Ava had talked
to her father about the nightmare late one night when she couldn’t stop
thinking about it; the two of them tried to unravel the recurring dream for an
hour.  Her father believed in signs like this, (he thought maybe it was a
throwback to her childhood and the trauma from her mother’s abuse), but Ava
disagreed.  This felt more like a sign of things to come…
a warning.
 
When she didn’t respond to her father’s suggestion, he’d offered to read her
teacup when he got home.  Oliver didn’t do it often – it tired him – but
he was very accurate when he did. 

Ava smiled,
remembering the offer.

“Yeah, Dad, I’d
like that,” she’d said softly.

“But don’t
forget, Ava...” her father had answered, his rumbling voice low and
serious.  “No matter what I might see in your cup, you always have a choice
about it.  Nothing’s ever set in life… there are always decisions to be
made...”

Today, the
choice was to force herself to work
or not
.    Tossing
the book onto its side, Ava glanced across the table.  Cole was reading
silently, his face a study in concentration as he red-marked her essay. 
His
essay, of course, was already done.  Chim had gone through it with him the
day before and he’d printed off the final copy this day.  She, on the
other hand, had delayed completing hers, as she did with everything else. 

With a sigh, Ava
reached for the growing pile of mail in the center of the table.  Flipping
through the bills, she came across an envelope with the header:
R. Simpson,
Agent and Promotions, Spirit Galleries
.  Tearing it open, she skimmed
the typed columns of numbers on the single sheet of paper.  Ava blinked,
rereading, then swallowed hard. 

‘That’s a lot of
money!’

Kip Chambers had
sweetened the deal for the mural-sized painting to forty / sixty without any
pushing on her part.  Though she didn’t quite understand the
why
behind his decision, she wasn’t questioning it.  Sometimes you had to
balance your own uncertainties against the reality of the world.  This
would pay for her bills for next semester… and she’d still have some left over.

She grinned,
pushing the paper over to Cole.

“Now what do you
think of me doing a collaboration with Kip Chambers?”

Cole scowled at
the mention of Kip’s name.  She knew how he felt about Chambers’ anti-war
agenda.  “Propaganda” was the term Cole always used, though he had no
issue with Marcus and Suzanne organizing an anti-war protest in the Student
Union building.  In fact, he had helped them fill out the paperwork with
the campus field office while Chim edited his paper. 

Kip, however,
got under his skin.

Ava waited until
Cole read the paper before she let herself smile.  The ripple of shock
that pulsed across his features had her cackling loudly. 

“Holy shit,”
Cole muttered, his eyes wide.  “I’ll do the fucking painting with him for
that amount!”

Ava grinned and
came around to stand in front of him.  She shoved the papers to the side,
throwing her leg across his lap to straddle him, their hips pressed tightly
together.

“Now
that
was something I’d pay to see,” she said with a chortle.  She leaned in to
kiss him lightly.  “Though I really have my doubts that you two could work
together. And I mean
ever
...”

Cole grinned and
rocked his hips against hers, teasing.  He tapped the paper in his hand
against Ava’s nose.

“Uh… this kind
of bribery,” he growled, gazing longingly to her breasts and then lower, “might
just inspire me to consider it.”

With a low
chuckle, he dropped the offer onto the floor, pulling her closer.  He
groaned as she shifted on his lap and she smiled at the neediness of the
sound.  She
liked
his reaction to her, and the last few weeks
together had certainly shown how
much
of a reaction Cole could
have.  Her lips moved slowly over his, teasing him into responding. 
Her tongue darted into his mouth, her teeth nipping at his lower lip, waiting
for him to match her intent. 

Cole’s hands
moved to her waist like they were drawn there by some inevitable force. 
Finding the edge of her t-shirt, he pulled it slowly upward until he reached
the curving underside of her bra.  Ava moaned as his fingers brushed
against her breasts, his palms gently kneading.  Her body already burned
with desire.  The sudden need to have him –
right here and now!
–
left her panting.  She was abruptly furious that her paper wasn’t done
yet.  It was due tomorrow.

With that
thought, Ava sighed in frustration, pulling back from the kiss.

“God, I cannot
wait
until this class is done… I am so fucking tired of Wilkins.  Can’t believe
I have to do
two
more
foundations classes next semester.” 
Her voice was petulant. 

Cole smirked at
her.

“Serves you
right for leaving them until your last semester.”

Ava stuck her
tongue out at him and he grinned.  Her shirt was wadded up under her
armpits as he leaned in, his teeth grazing her pebbled nipple through the bra
before nudging the thin fabric out of the way.  He moved forward, tugging
the hardened peak into his mouth.

“Oh god, Cole,”
Ava panted, closing her eyes against the intoxicating sensation, “I’ve really
got to get this paper done… This isn’t helping… I’ve already put it off too
long...”

“Mmm-hmmm...”
Cole mumbled, though he didn’t stop.  Instead, his hands moved to the
button of her jeans, starting to undo the closure.

Ava gritted her
teeth as the button popped opened and his fingers moved inside.

“You are so bad,”
she moaned as his fingers pushed the stiff fabric out of the way, finding the
silken edge of her panties.  He pushed it aside, stroking gently, and a
frisson of excitement ran up her spine.  Cole grinned up at her.

“You have no
idea how bad,” he murmured, “but I could show you.”

She chuckled.

“I haven’t
selected a non-majors course for next semester,” she admitted, sighing as
Cole’s fingers grazed her crotch, moving deeper.  “Have you decided on
yours?”

Cole grinned,
nodding, but he didn’t answer.  Instead he moved his mouth to her other
breast, sucking hard and Ava let out a wanton sigh.

“You gonna tell
me?” she gasped, closing her eyes and wrapping her fingers tight in his
hair.  “Or are you going to make me guess?”

Cole chuckled
deep in his throat, reaching up and pulling her neck forward so he could kiss
her roughly, cutting off her words.  His tongue was deep and insistent and
Ava was suddenly wild with the need to drag him into the bedroom… or better
yet, get her jeans off and have him right now, sitting here at the table. 
He broke the kiss, moving his lips along the line of her jaw, headed for her
neck.

“So which course
are you going to—?”

Ava groaned as
Cole moved back to suck and bite his way along the column of her throat.  The
sensation left her shivering with alternating pain-pleasure.

“God, 
that’s just… so good...” 

“Beg and I’ll
tell you...” he whispered, biting her earlobe before moving back to her
neck.  Calloused from stone-work, his fingers were rough.  The
caresses had a sharper edge to them, leaving Ava writhing on his lap.

“Please...” 
Ava moaned.

“Say my name...”
he whispered as his fingers and mouth continued their torture.  “Beg
me...”

Ava shuddered as
the fingers of one hand dropped back inside her half-open jeans, teasing her
again, moving deeper.  He shifted his hand, pushing up inside her
now.  She was wet and hot, ready for him.  Desperate.

“Please Cole.…
please...” she panted, her voice wavering with need.

Cole caught her
eyes, half-drugged with desire.

“I’m taking
printmaking next semester,” he said in a serious voice.  “Now… if you want
to me to finish editing this essay for you...” He smirked, running his eyes
down her body.  “I’m going to need some kind of incentive.”

Ava raised her
eyebrows, leaning down to undo the button of his pants, then dropped to her
knees in front of the chair.

“This kind of
incentive, maybe?”

The last weeks
of school had been snowy and wet, cold weather blanketing the city.  Snow
came down in fat flakes, sprinkling the buildings like icing sugar, leaving
everything looking shiny and new.  With holidays about to begin, a group
of students congregated in Ava’s studio, friends and acquaintances celebrating
the beginning of two weeks of relaxation in the interconnected rooms. 
Marcus and Cole sat together on the limp-framed sofa Ava had salvaged from a
dumpster.  A heavy bass beat pulsed from the stereo.  A few feet
away, Ava and Suzanne lounged atop two stools nearby several drop-cloth covered
easels. 

Around the
studio, the dregs of a long evening of partying were visible: oil-stained pizza
boxes and beer cans cluttered various surfaces, low-burning candles slowly
guttering out in jars around the room, empty bottles of alcohol discarded on
the floor.  Exams were finished, projects had been completed and essays
handed in.  The next day marked the start of holidays and they had a night
of revelry to celebrate it.  Now, in the early hours of the morning, the
party was starting to break up.

“I see you’ve
started your collaboration piece,” Suzanne said, walking up to the piles of
canvases. 

She pulled back
a drop-cloth to expose three large indigo-hued panels, highlighted with bands
of silver and grey.  These panels were for the ongoing Chambers
collaboration.  Ava did the under-painting and Kip would be layering
images and text over the top.  Raya Simpson had dropped the three
stretched canvases off the previous week. 

So far, it
looked like very little of it would be painted together, but Ava didn’t
mind.  She looked at this project as money in the bank and something to
add to her resume. 

“What
is
that anyhow?” Chim asked, turning his head sideways and squinting.  “I
don’t quite get it.”  He glanced up.  “You’re not finished, right?”

Ava gave a
rueful snort.  Marcus' work was always representational… he didn’t quite
get her abstract tendencies.  The image before them had bands of colour
and light, contrasted with deep purple shadows.  She’d simply painted from
a feeling.

“I’m not sure
it’s really
anything
at this point,” Ava admitted, tipping back a beer
can to drain the last few drops before continuing.  “Kip said to just
paint whatever I felt like painting… so I’m going for it.”