Marla could hardly believe it was already February and time for the department art show again. She upped the order of cheese and crackers, hoping this year they wouldn’t run out after an hour. The school answered their inquiries into serving wine with a resounding “no”, but Henry the sculpture teacher promised to buy first round at The Bog after they got everything cleaned and locked up.  

Just as Marla washed down her cracker with some soda, she heard a voice softly call her name. She turned and it took a moment to recognize the young woman with shiny curls. “Pam,” she said with a smile. 

Pam grinned and raised her arms for a hug. “I was hoping you’d be here.” 

“Oh I’m always here.” A figure appeared beside Pam and Marla had to crane her neck to see the man's face. 

“Marla, this is Jim, my boyfriend. Jim, Marla was my art instructor all last year.” 

Marla shook the handsome young man’s hand and wondered why he seemed so familiar. “Lovely to meet you, Jim. I hope you’re encouraging Pam to draw often.” 

“Oh I always ask to see her sketchbook and tell her how great she is. I think she’s finally starting to believe me.” Jim said with a dazzling smile, giving Pam’s shoulder a squeeze while she rolled her eyes.

“Well don’t just talk to me, grab some snacks, take a look around, I think we have a great collection this year.” Marla said, motioning toward the exhibits. After filling a paper plate with crackers, Pam walked off, shoulder to shoulder with Jim. Jim shrugged off his coat, revealing a dark blue sweater over a dress shirt, and once she saw the brown hair curling just above the white collar, Marla immediately knew where she recognized Jim from. 

After a few (okay fine, several) more cheese and crackers, Marla noticed Pam making her way back over.

“I’m so happy you could make it Pam,” Marla said. She nodded over to Jim standing a few exhibits away, intensely studying a group of pointillism drawings. “He’s cute.” 

Pam blush wildly, smiling from ear to ear. “Yeah, he’s just …. I’m really happy.” 

Much as Marla would have loved to talk about Jim, she instead asked Pam if she was continuing art classes. 

Pam nodded and said she was taking some beginners animation and design classes. “I actually am thinking about applying to a design program. Someone told me Philadelphia or New York is where I need to look.”

Marla nodded, “Well, I have colleagues at UArts in Philly and Pratt in Brooklyn, both great schools. I can send you their contact info. And I’m happy to take a look at your portfolio.” 

“I’d really appreciate that, thank you,” Pam said.

Marla glanced over Pam’s shoulder to Jim again, now studying a surrealist painting. “I hope your mid-term project from last year is in your portfolio, though.”

Instinctively, Pam looked to Jim, then nodded, “Yes, that’s definitely in there.”

Jim looked towards them, shooting another thousand watt smile their direction, and Pam turned to Marla. “Thanks again, I’ll be in touch about the school search and portfolio.”

Marla once again thanked Pam for coming and watched her walk away. She remembered Pam just one year ago at this show, standing quietly and slump-shouldered next to her drawings. Now she watched Pam practically float towards Jim, every move effortless.

* * * * *

The following Monday, Marla introduced the self-portrait assignment to her Drawing II classes, showing some example slides of how past students tackled the assignment. She flipped to the most recently added example, a drawing of a women in purple looking at her hands, a male figure walking away. “This student decided to depict a mistake in this pastel, something that influenced her life. She was a little nervous to draw something so personal, but she aimed to draw with courage and honesty, and I think it‘s very successful at evoking emotion. Any questions about this one?”

One student looked back to Marla and smirked. “Did she go after him?” she said and several students turned their head, also eager to hear the answer. 

“Oh I think that’s up to viewer interpretation,” Marla said, careful not to laugh when the student who asked the question pouted at her reply. Her and the other students turned around and Marla reached over to the slide machine. “But I’d like to think so,” she said with a small smile, pressing next.