I'm a poet. I see things that go unseen. I feel things that go unfelt. That's what I thought until I met Felecia. She too is an artist. Not with words but with pallet and canvas. Her paintings show everything I could possibly say and more. Everything except "I love you". A physical manifestation of that one precious phrase has never been seen by my eyes. Yet I am in love with her and those words haven't passed through my lips. Not in so many words. Poets are also good at concealing the truth with lies. I am an expert at that myself. Even through my words I cannot say I love you to Felecia. Girls aren't supposed to say things like that to other girls. Not at Lennox.

The Lennox Academy is one of the most prestigious girls' preparatory schools in North America. The price tag was a startling reflection of this fact. Two semesters at Lennox was a hefty sixty grand, not including the uniform. Only a fraction of the applicants who apply are enrolled. To even qualify a student had to graduate in the top one-percent of her class and have an extracurricular record to die for. Only the holiest of overachievers are allowed here. I happened to be one of those girls who met the standard, so I applied. Two months before graduation I received my acceptance slip, much to my parents dismay. They were proud of my success but even with their middle-class social standing they couldn't afford to foot the bill. So I filled in the appropriate ethnic box on the financial aid form and collected some national funding. An African-American female with a 4.2 GPA is not easily overlooked. So with my scholarship money and government support, I headed off to Oregon.

From the first moment I arrived I felt out of place. Reason one: I am one of five non-Aryan students, and reason two: because I didn't grow up in private schools. I'm from the east coast, raised in the public education system. A child who has witnessed more violence and hatred than these poor girls have ever seen, even in the movies. I found myself wondering if this was such a good idea.

After picking up my housing assignment and getting directions, I made my way to my room. Dwire Hall was one of the smaller housing buildings and one of the oldest on campus. My room was on the top floor at the end of the east-facing hallway. Once I opened the door I knew I would love this room. It was graced with a large picture window complete with a window seat. Two discrete beds were stationed on opposite sides of the room with the door directly across from the window. It was perfect for two. I claimed the bed left of the door and began to unpack my bags. I was anxious to meet my roommate. She arrived about an hour later.

"Knock-knock," a light, clear voice chimed from the doorway. I looked up from my failed hospital corner and acknowledged the sound. In the doorway stood the most attractive girl I had ever seen. She looked like a model, one of those girls that make other girls sick or jealous.

"Hey," I managed after a silent moment. "You must be my roommate."

"Yes. My name is Felecia McAbe," she smiled, extending her hand for me to shake. I took it in mine and found it to be cool from the chill of early autumn. It felt so dainty and fragile in mine, so soft. I didn't want to let go.

"I'm Senee. Senee Richards." I made myself let go of her hand and returned to my bed sheets.

"That is a beautiful name. Does it mean anything?" she asked.

I shrugged. "It's Italian. My mother is Italian."

"And your father is black?"

"Yes," I didn't know if I should be offended at her abruptness. She was smiling so I blew it off.

"Well, it's about time they got some culture in this place. My sister was here before she went to Harvard. When she was here there was only one black girl. All four years. That's a shame, huh?"

I nodded. I was staring at her again. She was lugging in a large canvas that was washed in a light teal and another that was painted with a landscape containing a lake and a forest of autumn hues. "Do you need some help?"

"Sure," Felecia laughed. "I think I may have gone overboard."

I walked over to where she stood and glanced out into the hallway. It was lined with canvases, some painted some not, of varying shapes and sizes. They made the hall look like a makeshift gallery.

"Paint much?" I asked.

She laughed a laugh that placed comfort deep in my heart. Out of the hundreds of girls attending Lennox Academy, I was fortunate enough to get Felecia as a roommate. I laughed with her and helped her finish moving in. We went to the dining hall together that night and talked about our families. As we lay in bed, her head pointing towards the door and mine towards the window, we voiced our opinions on life, home, and love and how we thought college would change our lives.

"My father thinks I'm crazy thinking that my painting will make me any real money. He'd rather I go to Harvard and study law like my sister," Felecia stated. "He can't understand that I don't paint for the money, I paint because I need to. The arts are beyond him unless he decides to purchase something for the house or his office. He doesn't think about what a painting means, he only cares whether or not it matches the Persian rug."

"I think my parents are too encouraging sometimes. They expect me to win the Nobel Prize or something. I write mostly for myself, I don't think I could accept a prize for it," I said. "What does your father do?"

"He's a lawyer. Runs in the family I guess. McAbe, Alistair & Bartlett, attorneys at law." She sounded like an advertisement. "How about your folks?"

"My father is a doctor, a shrink. My mother is a nurse at St. Francis. All I heard at the dinner table were conversations about patient's cases. I lost my appetite more than a few times. People are so screwed up."

She nodded her head in agreement. I noticed that her eyes were closed and I thought she wanted to get some sleep. As I reached over to turn off the lamp, she spoke.

"Have you ever been in love, Senee?"

My heart fluttered beneath my ribs. "No, never."

"Do you ever wonder if you're missing out on something by not being in love?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I think it's got to be more trouble than bliss though," I said.

"Yeah, me too. But I can't help but be curious. Goodnight, Senee."

"Goodnight, Felecia."

The next afternoon, after our classes had ended, Felecia and I went to get supper. She talked about her art history class and western civilization. I listened to her voice as it caressed me over the two large salads between us. She talked with her hands leaving her with half a bowl of salad by the time I'd finished. I waited, having the remainder of her Caesar to admire her. She had tied her waist- ength blonde hair out of her face with a pencil leaving a few strands framing her face. She was even pretty when she ate. I had always been conscious of my posture and could feel people's eyes piercing me as I ate. When she spoke, her eyes looked at me softly, their hazel depths like the calm sea. I lost myself in them until she broke my gaze and gathered up her dishes.

"Let's get out of here. I told Io I'd meet her at the library to work on our assignment," she stated.

I looked at her, confused. "Who's Io?"

"This cool girl from my western civ class. You have to meet her, Senee. She's the coolest."

I agreed to go to the library reluctantly. I didn't want to be with anyone else but Felecia. The thought of her attention being directed to another was painful, but I wanted to be with her so much that anything would be better than being alone.

"Io, this is my roommate Senee. Senee this is Io Masterson," Felecia introduced.

"Hi. It's nice to meet someone with a weirder name than mine for once," Io said in a husky voice. "Are you in western civ too?"

I shook my head and seated myself close to Felecia and across from Io. As they got to work on their assignment, I watched their interactions with silent jealously. Io was exotic. Her long red hair was slightly wavy and I could see that she dyed it. Her natural color was indicated by her tell-tale dark roots. Her skin was pale, alabaster sprayed with generous amounts of freckles which she tried to cover with make-up. The light above the center of the table caused Io's eyes to shine an unearthly blue between them.

"Isn't she great?" Felecia said as we entered our room.

"Yeah, great," I said.

"You didn't say much tonight. Are you okay?"

I shrugged and walked to my closet. Pulling out a T-shirt and sweats to sleep in, I changed with my back to her.

"Senee, what's wrong?" Felecia asked from her bed. I turned to find her sitting on the edge taking off her wool socks.

"I'm fine. She's just so pretty it's intimidating."

"Io? I guess I never noticed. But you're pretty, Senee."

I quickly looked up from my lap. "I am not. I'm plain."

"Whatever. Look at yourself," she took my hand and led me to the full-length mirror on her side by the window. She stood behind me and held my shoulders so I couldn't refuse my reflection. "You are beautiful. Your skin is such a pretty color, like graham crackers. You're not fat; you have a nice, petite figure. And your hair. God, I would die for curly hair like yours. Straight hair is so boring." When she touched my hair, I shivered. She pulled one of my dark brown tendrils out straight then let it spring back into place. "So soft."

I closed my eyes, wishing her admiration would go on forever. I wanted to hold her and tell her how much I didn't want to let go. When she did finally take herself away from me, emptiness took her place. I could no longer feel the warmth of her body nor could the scent of her shampoo revived. I walked to my bed, feeling incredibly self-conscious, and plopped down onto it. She carefully folded down her sheets and crawled beneath them.

"Thank you," I whispered.

"You're welcome."

"Now, hold the brush like this." Felecia placed the brush between her fingers and handed me a brush to do the same.

"It takes a while to get used to," she smiled at my awkwardness. The early winter snow had begun to fall outside, and with nothing else to do Felecia decided to paint. It sounded like fun to me, so she got me a palate and a smock and set my easel up next to hers.

"Don't expect anything extraordinary, Lecia. I haven't painted with anything but finger-paints and that was twelve years ago."

"No body's great the first time around. You'll be painting like Monet in no time."

I laughed, as she began to paint. I searched for the perfect color of green and placed a dollop onto my cardboard palate. I had taken a picture of a rose from a fashion magazine and taped it to the corner of my canvas. Felecia said it was important to have a picture of what you wanted to paint so you could see how the light and shadows play off of the angles.

My first stroke was shaky, and I looked a Felecia to see if she had seen it. She was chewing on the end of her brush trying to formulate a picture in her mind. The late afternoon light from the window gave her an angelic glow. Her face shown like crystal and her eyes were green today, the same color as the line on my canvas. When she resumed painting, I watched her in awe. Her hand was so steady and her slender fingers held the tiny brush like it was an extension of her limbs. She wore a plain silver band on her right ring finger, I had seen it before. She wore it religiously, even to bed. I had never known anyone who slept in their jewelry on, so I asked her why the ring was so important to her.

"My art teacher gave it to me as a graduation gift," she said twirling it around with her thumb. "It is my favorite gift."
There was a knock on the door and Felecia went to answer it. I watched as she opened the door to Io.

"Hey, ladies. Thought I'd stop in and see if anyone is interested in going into the city for some dancing. It is Friday night, after all. I won't let you just sit here and paint like old maids," Io stated.

"Well, I'm up for it. How about you, Senee? Do you want to go?" Felecia asked.
I nodded and began to put my paint away. Io walked over to my painting and smiled.

"What is that?"

"It's gonna be a rose, eventually," I said.

"Okay," Io laughed. "Don't worry about this stuff. Get dressed and let's go."

In twenty minutes we were driving out to Portland. It was a thirty-mile drive and Io knew it well. She had lived in Portland before coming to Lennox and had a favorite club called The Harbor House. It was a twenty-one and over club, but Io knew the bouncer and he let us in without any problems. I thought they had probably slept together with the way he eyed her when she approached the door.

"This is the best club in Portland!" Io yelled over the blaring techno beat. The club vibrated with the energy of hundreds of sexually charged young adults and smelled of pot and alcohol. "I come here every Friday!"

Felecia was smiling and her body took on the rhythm of the music. I followed Io through the mass of dancers to the center of the dance floor and watched as Io started dancing. Felecia soon followed and I was left watching from the side. I watched as Io lost herself in the music, unaware of anything else. Felecia was trying to coax me into motion. She looked so sexy in her black cat suit and leather jacket that I couldn't stop watching her. She had curled her hair that morning and had put make-up on before we left, something she never needed and rarely wore. Her body swayed and grinded with the beat and I tried to match her movements. I never was much of a dancer, but watching her was enough to get me started. I instinctively raised my hands above my head and was soon oblivious to anything but the music and Felecia.

As the night pulsed on, Io scored some meth. She downed a dose in a screwdriver that somebody left on his or her table. She called Felecia over and let her have what was left with a glass of water. I became very aware of Felecia for the rest of the night, not wanting anything to happen to her while she was high. During the last set, she started crying as she danced.

"Lecia, are you okay?" I asked.

"I feel so fucked up," she said, mascara blackened tears slid down her high cheekbones. She was pale and looked up at me with fear.

"I think we should go home," I said.

"No! I don't want to leave yet. Will you hold me, Senee? I'm shaking."

I took hold of her hand tentatively. It was cold, clammy, and trembling. I tightened my grip and looked into her eyes. She had stopped crying and she looked back at me with eyes containing something I hadn't seen before. I wiped the tears off her cheek, my hand trembling as much as hers had been. Her eyes closed when our skin made contact, and her free hand rose to cover mine. She slowly closed the gap between us and placed her arms around me. Her head resting on my shoulder, her body started to move. I hugged her closer to me and followed her movements. Our dance was to a different beat then that of the song pulsing through the speakers overhead. It was slow and methodical, an inner rhythm we had been keeping secretly inside ourselves.

I let my eyelids slide shut as I pulled her as close to me as I could. I wanted to protect her from her inner fears, but I couldn't get close enough. All I could do was hold her and hope she found comfort there, dreading the moment she would let go. I inhaled her citrus scent and the scent of the leather she wore. She was whispering incoherently into my hair, and her breath smelled sweetly of liquor.

"I do want to go home, Senee."

"Okay Lecia, just let me find Io," I said. She let go of me, but held on to my hand for a moment longer. She looked at me, afraid she would loose me in the crowd. "Hold my hand."

We walked hand in hand through the mass of flailing limbs trying to find Io. She found us just before we were going to check the bathroom.

"We're ready to leave, Io," I stated firmly.

"Me too, I'll get the car."

"No, I'm driving." Io handed over her keys and mumbled that she wanted to sleep on the way home anyway. We left the club and found Io's Mustang. We drove back to Lennox in silence. During the drive, I caught Felecia watching me through the haze of sleep. When she noticed me looking at her, she smiled and turned away. I smiled and returned to driving.

It was four in the morning when Felecia and I tiptoed through the hallway to our room. She couldn't stop giggling and I had to cover her mouth until we got to through the door and had it secured. I returned my attention to Felecia. She was laughing so hard that she collapsed near the edge of my bed.

"Felecia, you have to be quiet. If you wake the RA we'll be in deep trouble," I scolded.

"Okay, shhh." She placed her finger up to her deep red lips like a child would.

"You need to get some sleep," I said, rummaging through my closet and finding her a T-shirt to sleep in. "Change into this." While she changed, I placed my ear against the door to hear if anyone had reacted to us coming in. All sounded well.

"I can't get my boots off," Felecia whined from the bed. I moved closer to her only to find her hands trembling and outstretched before her. Kneeling down in front of her, I untied the laces and removed her boots. Her damp socks were soon to follow and then I took a seat on the bed beside her. I gathered her long, heavy locks in one hand and placed them gently over her shoulder. I began to unzip the long zipper that ran the length of her spine. Slowly I released the tiny silver teeth from their opposing grip, exposing the creamy skin of her back. The crests of her vertebrae rose slightly above the plane of her back and I couldn't stop myself from touching them. She turned her head at the sensation of my cool fingers against her heated back. A smile graced her face and she began to slide the jumpsuit off her shoulders.

"Felecia," I stammered, watching her eyes. Something flared inside them, a curiosity and teasing I had never before witnessed. I wanted her to continue removing her clothing, but somewhere deep inside I knew I should tell her 'no'.

"You don't know what you're doing." You can't know what you're doing to me, I thought.

She placed a silencing thumb on my lips, her fingers touching the nape of my neck. I felt a chill of pleasure pulse through me and I covered her hand with mine. I looked into her eyes, finding her irresistible in the dim lamplight. So I didn't resist. Leaning closer towards her, I touched her lips in the softest kiss.

Felecia deepened the kiss, pulling me closer on the tiny bed. I touched her breast through the thin knit of her cat suit and she made a sound so much like a whimper that I backed away.

"Are you all right?" I asked, feeling delirious from the kiss.

"I'm fine." She removed the rest of her clothing and helped me with mine. Her caresses were soft, her touch like a feather. The sensation was so foreign, so much more than I had ever felt before. I returned her caresses with the same emotion and intensity, relishing in the goose bumps they produced on her skin. I thought that Felecia might put an end to this heaven, but she never retreated physically or verbally.

She was kissing me like she was parched and I was the only source of liquid, hungrily, feverishly. I reveled in how her thin torso fit so nicely in my tight embrace. She let herself fall into a resting position on the bed, her gilded hair spreading onto my pillow. Her delicate neck was exposed and I found the sweetest spot behind her ears. Her sharp intake of breath let me know she enjoyed the sensation my mouth brought her. I kissed her throat, lingering a little longer at the indentation above the center of her collar bone.

Her stomach was so flat, a silky valley of cream-colored flesh with her naval in the center. I kissed around it over towards her hips where her pelvic bone rose softly above her belly. I was making a mental map of my travels, hoping to have the chance to voyage that way again. The salt of her skin met my lips like a confection, producing a taste euphoria I would not soon forget. I lifted her leg to kiss her ankle feeling the small bones under my lips and watching her eyes close in pleasure. Then I made my way slowly upward, ever upward, to end my journey in the sweetest destination of all.

I couldn't believe that this was happening. For months I had longed to touch her like I had that night. Show her, with a touch, what I had failed to produce with my usually proficient voice. But with Felecia, the words were a jumble. I could turn a phrase over and over in my mind, perfect it and even rehearse it aloud. But when the time came to speak, I drew a blank. That night had changed all that. I became a poet again in her arms. I had anointed her with words as fair as she, bringing her to tears with beautiful phrases praising her skin of heated velvet.
I loved her with my soul and my body, nearly whispering 'I love you', but halted my words. I didn't know how she would react. For all I knew, these feelings were new for her. She had enjoyed herself, I thought she must have with the way she had shuttered with ecstasy just moments ago. But I would give her time to think. She nestled her head on my breast and let out a few soft whispers.

"I'm shaking, I feel so weak. Like a newborn baby."

She closed her eyes and her breathing slowed to normal. I brushed a few stray strands of her hair out of her eyelashes and stroked her hair softly. Kissing her head, I closed my eyes to sleep.

I awoke the next morning as if from a dream. My vision was hazy and I took a few moments to regain my bearings. Sometime during the night, Felecia had slipped out of my arms and was now facing the wall with her back towards me. I suddenly needed to write something, my feelings, my dreams, and my thoughts. I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the half-full notebook, which rested there, and a ballpoint pen and began to write. Once the poem was finished, I released it from the notebook and left it on the nightstand to give to Felecia later. I found my robe hanging on the bedpost behind me and slipping into it, I left the bed. I thought some tea would be nice. I found the teapot my mother had given to me as a farewell gift and two tea bags. Chamomile, it was my favorite and I had Felecia hooked in our third week at Lennox. Felecia stirred with the beeping of her little microwave. I carried the tea to bed and sat next to her groggy form.

"Senee?" she asked in the mid-morning light. Her hair was knotted and she had black circles beneath her eyes from last night's eye make-up.

"I'm here," I replied, finger-combing her hair, "and I bring tea."

She sat up bringing the comforter with her to cover her still naked body. "Is it hot?"

"Yes, be careful."

"God, I feel like shit," she stated.

It wasn't the first thing I liked to hear after a night of lovemaking, but I kept quiet.

"What did I take last night? How much did I drink?"

"You drank a lot, after taking some meth," I reminded her.

"Oh, yeah. Is Io all right?"

"As far as I know, we dropped her off at her dorm last night, don't you remember? I can call her if you want." I wanted to ease her concern so I could get her full attention. I wanted to talk about the previous night.

"No, that's okay," she said after a gulp of tea. "Let her sleep."

We were quiet for a long moment before I got up the courage to ask her the question that had been fermenting in my mind.

"What else do you remember about last night?" I asked, craving her opinion on the subject.

"I was drunk, Senee. And high. I don't know if I want to remember what crazy things I did last night." She got out of bed, taking my comforter with her. I watched her slip into her robe and leave the room, going to the bathroom in the hall. I looked at my unread poem folded upon the bed table and once the door had shut, I began to cry.

The next few days were tense. Felecia spent most of her free time with Io, and when she came back at night, we barely spoke. I wondered if she was in denial about that night or if she truly didn't want to remember and truly had forgotten. I wanted to tell her, talk to her about how I felt for her, but she had erected an impenetrable wall that even my best intentions couldn't destroy.

Christmas leave was coming up soon, and I had planned to return to the east coast to see my family. She was headed back to Massachusetts, much to her dismay. She said that Christmas was the worst holiday of the year for her because she had to be with her family. They would ignore her, asking only her sister what accomplishments she had made the previous semester. Felecia felt left out, alone, she had told me. I was happy to hear that, thinking she would have some time to think about what had happened. Maybe admit that it did happen. Even if it went no further than that, I needed her to at least acknowledge the event. She didn't have to like it, as much as I wanted her to.

When it came time for us to leave for home she left before I even had a chance to say good-bye. I cried on the flight home and wished I had never slept with her. Loosing her friendship was not worth the pain I felt after one night of pleasure. When I returned to Lennox in two weeks I would tell her just that.

Christmas at home wasn't much different than any other Christmas. My parents gave me the new "Writer's Market", some CD's, and a thick wool sweater that made me think of Felecia. My mother asked if I had met someone in Oregon, someone special. I told her no because I knew she meant 'have you met a young man?' I wondered how she would take it if I told her I had slept with my roommate. 'Yeah mom, we're really close. We slept together. Her name's Felecia and her daddy's a lawyer' would get a reaction, but only after she recovered from fainting.

The plane ride home was too short. I tried to formulate a speech to deliver to Felecia even though I knew it would fall to pieces once I tried to speak. The first person I saw when I entered Dwire Hall was Io. She stood before the door to my room smoking a cigarette. She saw me coming up the stairs and she nodded in my direction.

"Hey," she greeted.

"What's up?" I wondered what she wanted, why she was here just waiting. Felecia wasn't coming back until tomorrow night.

"Can we talk?" Io asked.

"I guess so. Come in and let me set my stuff down." I couldn't imagine what she would want to talk to me about. The only way we even knew each other was through Felecia. She was the only thing we had in common.

I unlocked the door and entered the warm, stuffy room. Setting my suitcases down, I motioned for her to have a seat on the bed. I sat on Felecia's and looked over at Io.

"So, how was your trip home?" she asked.

"Not bad. How was your vacation?" I returned.

"Great," she said half-heartedly. "So what's up with you and Felecia?"

Not wasting any time, I see. "Why? What do you think...?"

"I know you slept together that night after the club. I just want to know what's up."

"How do you know that?" I stammered. "Who told you that?"

"Felecia got a little drunk the night before she left for Boston and spilled the beans. As her friend, I think I should hear both sides before I make any rash decisions."

"Rash? Like what? What did she tell you exactly?" I asked. I couldn't help but think she had a threatening tone in her voice.

"She was crying. She kept saying that she didn't know what she was going to do. Did you make her...?"

"No!" I shouted. "Did she tell you I did? It just happened. She was drunk, but I didn't take advantage of her, Io. She was just as willing as I was."

"She was fucked up! How can you say that you didn't take advantage of her? It's disgusting!" Io shouted back at me, standing up and pacing the room. "You are sick, Senee, bringing this into a school like Lennox."

"What do you mean? Do you think I did this on purpose? That my intent in coming to an all girls academy was to get laid?" I was shocked at her accusation. "Fuck you, Io! Get the hell out of my room."

"I will take this before the Dean. What do you think will happen when he finds out he's got a fucking pervert in his academy? Good-bye Senee with her little nigger scholarship. Guess you won't make the Ivy League after all."

"You wouldn't." I challenged.

"Watch me." She started to walk towards the door before I grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face me.
"Get your hand off of me!"

She shoved my hand from her body. I couldn't control my rage any longer. I swung my fist and hit her squarely below her left eye. It was more anger than I had ever had, and punching Io was the only way I could release it. She reeled back and took a moment to recover her balance before she lunged for me. Her momentum caused me to fall backwards and she landed on top of me in a hail of fists and nails.

"What is going on in here?" I heard from the doorway. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the angelic figure of
Felecia coming towards us. I stopped fighting back and tried to help Felecia pry Io away from me. Io still gripped my hair with her hands, causing me to follow her up off the floor with her. Felecia had to pry us apart.

"Let go, Io!" Felecia commanded, pulling Io's hair. "Let her go."

Io let go and made a claming gesture with her hands.

"Welcome home, Felecia. I've got to get out of here now before I really hurt her. I'll talk to you later." Io said as she left the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Fucking bitch," I whispered under my breath, my voice cracking with the tears trying to force themselves from my eyes.

"What happened in here?" Felecia demanded.

"You weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow." I said, still battling tears. I tasted blood in my mouth and went to my nightstand to get a tissue.

"That doesn't give you an excuse to fight in our room!" She was frustrated.

"Sorry! I didn't know I needed your permission to defend myself." I said, my defenses raised. I took the tissue away from my lip and folded it to a clean spot.

Felecia sat on her bed and sighed. "I'm sorry, Senee. What happened?"

"She was waiting for me when I got home. She came here to confront me, to threaten to get me kicked out of school because of something you told her. She thinks I forced you, Lecia."

"Shit, Senee. I didn't know she would take it this far." Felecia apologized.

"What did you think she'd do? When you told her we slept together, how did you think she'd react?"

"I was drunk, Senee. I didn't mean to tell her anything. It just slipped out."

"Yeah, I know how you get when you're drunk." I stabbed. "You don't think much at all, do you? I'm gonna' get kicked out of school if she tells the Dean. You didn't think about that, did you? God, I can't believe this is happening."

She started crying softly, but I could tell. A tear slipped down my cheek, and I turned away from her. She left the room a few minutes later, quietly closing the door behind her.

I waited up for her all night. I wanted to apologize to her for my yelling. I kept myself busy writing out my feelings in my journal. While searching for a clean page to fill, I found the poem I had written for her. I had tried to hide it within the folds of the notebook thinking it could be left to rest in peace there. I read it over again. The only thing that kept coming up was the word 'love'. It was the only thing I really felt for her, the anger was for Io and was simply misdirected.

She came in at nine a.m. She was rosy from the late December frost outside and she clutched her arms to her chest. She had forgotten to take a jacket with her.

"Felecia, are you okay?" I asked, starting to get off my bed.

"I'm fine. I just need a sweater to warm up. The library is open pretty late during break." she stated, pulling a wool sweater over her head.

"You could have come back. I waited up for you."

"I don't want to fight, Senee. I talked to Io about ten minutes ago and she agreed not to go to the Dean."

"You didn't have to do that, Felecia. I can take care of myself. If it weren't for me, this whole thing would have never happened." I said.

"Damnit, let me finish! I wanted it to happen just as much as you did. Io was just as surprised to hear me say it as I was. I didn't understand the things I was feeling, so I shut you out and I tried to blame my intoxication. But I thought about it while I was at home and I realized that I let it happen. I made love with you that night, Senee. I can't deny that."

I wanted to touch her, but it was too soon. I wanted to trust that what she was saying was true, but I was resisting. It was a miracle if it was true. But if it were a lie, I would be a fool again. Maybe I just needed time...

"What are you thinking about?" she asked taking a seat on the bed with me.

"I don't know what to think. I can't feel anything right now."

"Does your lip still hurt?" she asked, touching it lightly with her index finger. It throbbed beneath her touch, the blood rushing beneath my skin. "She looks worse."

I smiled, pulling my lips together when I felt the thin skin on my swollen lip pull. "Don't make me laugh."

"Why not? Does it hurt?" she asked tickling my sides.

"Yes. Stop it, please," I managed between painful little giggles.

"I'll make it feel better," she said. She leaned in to kiss me as gently as she could. "This is what I was missing out on."

I looked at her quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"Remember when I asked you if you ever felt like you were missing out by not being in love?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, this is it." she was smiling, and I wondered what she meant. "I love you, Senee."

"I have something for you," I said reaching for my journal. "I wrote it the morning after we made love. I think you should have it."

Felecia looked at me with a smile and took the poem from my hand. Unfolding it carefully, she began reading. I was sitting close enough behind her that I could read it over her shoulder.

The Painter

Master scenewright
You with the paint under you fingernails
Beautify me as you do the canvas
My skin may not be as pale
Nor as textured
It is as plain--
Illuminate my flesh with your silent poetry
With brush and with fingers
Somewhat between a thought and a thing, your art
The music you make so well
I want to be a piece in your collection
On display for your eyes only
My lines complimented by your color
A one of a kind
Original
So beautiful to your tired eyes
And when you touch me
So gentle, so pure
Color bleeds from the sable
Pigments melt together in sweet aesthetic harmony
And when you behold me
Then you will see
You shall know
That I am yours alone

Felecia wiped a tear from her cheek and smiled up at me. She kissed me for the first time in days and I felt what I had been missing. She placed the poem on the bedside table and touched my cheek. Pulling her silver ring off her finger, she took my hand and slid it over my knuckle to the base of my left ring finger.

"What are you doing? This is your favorite ring. I can't accept this." I said, trying to remove it.

"I have found another gift to take its place. Your poem has become my favorite gift, so I give this ring to you." Felecia stated, placing her hand over mine. Our fingers entwined, creating a contrasting swirl of mocha and linen. She snuggled up beside me and closed her eyes. I watched her for a few moments as she drifted off to sleep. She looked so peaceful, calm, and comfortable. I felt comfort too, like the first time I had seen her smile.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Felecia." I fell asleep holding her in my arms.

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