I met up with Micha one day after our Art History to kill about 5 birds with the same, big stone. For starters, I needed to run to the craft store to begin working o this project for our class. I was more than capable of purchasing the art supplies with my own money, but Micah refused for me to pay it.
“Roe, you deadass pay rent every month,” Micah began to say as he grabbed the canvases from my hands. “Plus, this is a project we’re both working on, the least I can contribute to this portion of the project is paying for all of this shit.”
“Well geez, if you put it like that,” I responded, rolling my eyes at Micah. I began roaming the aisles of the art supply store; I truly felt like I was in heaven. I kept stopping to look at every little thing down each aisle. It wasn’t like it was my first time being in an art supply store; I go to the one in the city a lot with Prescott, but he tends to always rush me whenever we go. I was glad to see that Micah wasn’t like that; instead, he would just stand there and wait for me to walk to the next thing in the aisle that grabbed my attention.
“So I was thinking we could meet up some time this weekend to discuss business,”Micah said as we walked down the different aisles.
“Business? Dude, it’s a sophomore-level art class,” I teased Micah. He rolled his eyes as I laughed.
“That, but also this party we’re trying to throw,” Micah added. “When were you thinking about throwing the party?”
“We could do a Spring Break party,” I suggested. “I grew up watching all of the trashy Spring Break themed parties; it’ll be cool to replicate something like that.”
“I don’t take you as the type to watch those trashy movies,” Micah responded.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, friend,” I once again teased, turning the corner to walk down a new aisle.
I kept staring at these one set of paint brushes that were too pretty to not look at. They were iridescent, hitting the light in the store in such a way look like it was made out of the prettiest material. The set alone was 50 bucks, which meant I had to put them back. Before I was able to fully put them back on the peg, Micah stops me.
“Get them,” Micah insisted.
“Dude, these shits are 50 cash,” I mentioned. “I don’t have that type of money.”
“I’ll get them for you,” Micah said, grabbing them from the peg. “Consider this an early–or if your birthday as already passed–late birthday present from me.”
“Micah,” I tried to say, but Micah was not having it.
“They are already in our cart and you’re fucking getting them to paint,” Micah concluded. I looked at him as he walked by me with the cart in his hand. I followed him, like a kid in a candy store, who was just told that they were able to get the one piece of candy they’ve been dying to have.
…
I stared at the paint brushes on my bed when I got back home. I didn’t even want to take them out of its pretty packaging, for fuck’s sake. I questioned Micah’s motive for purchasing these brushes for me in the first place. Why would he do something without wanting anything in return? Does he expect me to give him something? Why the fuck would he do something like this for someone like me?
I heard a knock on my front door, which was weird since I wasn’t expecting anyone to come over today. I walked to my door and opened it. I don’t remember what happened or what I did after I opened the door, but I was not expecting to see, out of all people, Hudson to show up at my door.
“Hudson?” I said, just needing to confirm that it’s actually him. He looks pissed.
“We need to talk,” Hudson simply said. Does this is how it feels to be scolded by your parents? If so, this shit fucking sucks. He walks into my apartment and looks around; the detective in him analyzes the fuck out of everything in it.
“I spoke to your college after not getting a housing bill these last two semesters,” Hudson began to say as he circled around the apartment. “And to my surprise, they informed me that no one; absolutely no one, under the name Rosie Delgado dorms at the college.” Fuck.
“Hudson,” I began to say. He clearly wasn’t having it.
“So you weren’t going to tell me that you live in some run-down apartment in the middle of the projects?” Hudson spat out. “You’ve been just taking the money for your housing and decided to put it somewhere else or something?”
“I-” I began to say again, but Hudson wasn’t finished; obviously.
“What in your right mind thought that this wasn’t going to get back to me?” Hudson asked, clearly wanting an answer now.
“Because it didn’t get to you during my freshman year,” I answered, barely audible. Hudson sighed loudly, of course not happy with me whatsoever. “How did you even find my place?”
“Really, Rosie?” Hudson answered back. Duh; he’s a fucking cop, and anyone can wave their badge around for information these days.
“You had no right looking into my school record,” I spat back, trying to get the heat off of me for a moment. “Haven’t you heard of HIPPA or some shit like that?”
“That’s doctors not being able to discuss your medical records, Rosie,” Hudson corrected. I’m in a liberal arts college, not medical school obviously. “Did you spend all of that money on this?”
“Part of it,” I answered. “The rest went towards living expenses.”
“What living expenses?” Hudson shouted, now visibly angry. “You call this piece of shit living expenses?”
“It was all I can afford, Hudson,” I snapped back, getting defensive. “It was either this or some boondocks apartment building in the Bronx; at least I can still go to and from school in time living here–“
“The same with dorming at the damn college! Rosie, I wanted you to go to college and focus on your studies; wasn’t that our agreement?” He wasn’t wrong. Back in Philly, Hudson attended my GED ceremony; he was the only adult in my life that gave a shit about where I was going in life. My parents had no fucking clue, and all of my friends either dropped out of high school or simply overdosed on drugs before they were even able to finish. I promised Hudson I was going to go to college in New York; get away from all of the bad shit that Philly brought in my life. I wanted to start fresh; I wanted to go to another state and be a different type of girl while doing something no one around me has ever done: give a fuck about living for their goddamn future.
“It’s not like I’ve been doing illegal shit or something,” I said, knowing damn well that wasn’t the truth. “Technically, I’m still in agreement.”
“You’re actually going to your classes?” Hudson asked. It annoyed me that he didn’t believe me, but then again there’s been so much I’ve lied about already to him. Maybe he already knows; maybe he is waiting for me to finally feel the guilt and just word vomit everything.
“I am,” I said, annoyed. “I just came back from getting shit for my art history project.” I pointed at all of the supplies on my bed, including the expensive paint brushes. Hudson takes a seat, sighing before he said anything to me.
“I’m not trying to micromanage your life,” he began to say. “I just want you to do as best as you can and do something better with your life. You’re capable of being great.”
“I am doing my best,” I said, sitting down on the chair across from him. “I go to school, I work at the campus bookstore, and I’m learning how to live on my own in the gist of all of this.” Hudson faintly smiled before getting up from the chair. He looked around the apartment one last time.
“Can we at least try to make this apartment look more… livable?” Hudson mentioned. I sucked my teeth, not appreciating his comment.
“Sure, if you want to help me pay for ‘livable’ things for my apartment,” I teased, laughing at Hudson when he rolled his eyes.
“Please keep out of trouble, Rosie,” Hudson said as he started to walk towards my front door. “And please; don’t keep any more secrets from me.” I nodded and walked him out the front door.
“I will,” I said, looking at Hudson as he walked down the flight of stairs. I closed the door when he left and immediately let out the loudest sigh. I walked toward my bed and picked up the brush set from my bed; admiring it.
Letters From Liz. 