A Heart for Rebel by Mia Natal Page A

conversation because I kept trying to change
the topic.
    “I’m sorry, Rebel. I
didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I was only complementing a live
work of art,” he said.
    “In case you
haven’t noticed I am not a live work of art. I am a human being, for god’s
sake,” I snarled. He was seriously getting on my last nerve. I admit the guy was
hot, but he had nothing on Wyatt. We came across one of my paintings. I didn’t
want it showcased, but Linda loved the realism of it and had to have it. I had
painted my mother. She was in the process of smoking crack. You could see the
desire and desperation in her face. She was sitting in a tattered chair. She
was completely alone. The room seemed black, damp and cold. The carpet in the
room was trodden and the color was indistinguishable. There was a silver foil
on her lap that glistened like a diamond. The walls were a dingy yellow,
symbolizing the loss of hope. Her eyes were empty and hollow. Her clothes were
worn and tattered. The smoke filtering up from her mouth accumulated in the
ceiling. In the smoke you could see reflections of her past before her
addiction.
    Oz eyed the
painting closely. He was silent as he took it in. He turned to me and said,
“This is the best work of art I’ve seen in a long time. Who’s the artist?”
    “It’s a local
artist, unknown and undiscovered yet. RW, I believe is the painter’s initials,”
I replied.
    “Well, whoever the
painter is he’s real good. The way he captured the realism of drowning in life
due to the complexity of letting drugs take hold and drag you down into a pool
of despair,” he said.
    Oz was too close
for comfort leaving me no choice but to take a step backwards. He lifted his
hand and touched his fingers to my cheek, "So beautiful."
    I admit the guy was
gorgeous, but I wasn't attracted to him. I didn't feel the all-consuming pull I
feel when I'm near Wyatt. He gives me strength. The minute I met him, he jumped
started my life. He came into my life when I was in my darkest moment and gave
me light and in his arms is where I want to be.
    "Please don't
touch me. It makes me uncomfortable and if we are going to be working closely
together then you have to respect my boundaries," I said.
    "I'm sorry,
Rebel, but there's something about you. I really don't know what it is, but
what I do know is I want to know more," he whispered.
    "I'm sorry,
but...," I didn't get to finish my sentence because Linda appeared at that
moment.
    "Rebel, your
friend, Marissa is waiting for you at your desk," she said. I had
completely forgotten Marissa and I were having a girl's lunch date.
    "Thank you,
Linda. I'll see you when I return from lunch,” I said. I turned and headed to
my desk, where I found Marissa patiently waiting for me.
    “Hey Reby, you
ready for lunch?” she asked.
    “I’m so ready to
get out of here, you have no idea,” I replied. Marissa looked at me and
shrugged her shoulders silently asking what was wrong. I nodded my head towards
the door as an answer. I knew she would get the hint that I would tell her what
had me wound up.
    We hit the nearest
fast food place a block away from my job. We both ordered burgers and fries.
    “What’s going on?”
she asked.
    “Oh, no missy,
first you need to tell me how you ended up with Ty. I thought you were seeing
Joey,” I said.
    “Alright, I will
tell you, but then you need to spill, sista,” she said.
    “Don’t I always
tell you everything?” I asked.
    “True,” she said.
    “Get to it. I’m
dying here,” I playfully said.
    “Alright, . You
remember the night we first went to the Lounge?” she asked. As if I could
forget that night. That night is imbedded in my head because that was the night
I slept with Wyatt.
    “Yes, I remember,”
I replied.
    “Well, after you
left, Joey said he had to use the restroom. I sat at a booth waiting for him,
but after twenty minutes he never returned. I went looking for him, but I
couldn’t find him. At this point