Emily took a deep breath and slid the rope off the goat’s neck, then opened the cattle guard and waved her arms. “Go, girl,” she whispered. “Shoo.” The goat glanced at Emily, her lips pursed. She took one step forward, then another. Once she crossed the cattle guard, she broke into a trot, waddling down the road. She seemed happy to be free.
Emily slammed the cattle guard shut behind her. She was pretty damn happy to be free of this place, too.
10
ABOUT AS FAR FROM MINDLESS AS ARIA COULD GET
The clouds rolled in on Monday afternoon, darkening the sky and bringing winds that ripped through Rosewood’s yellow-leafed sugar maples. Aria pulled her strawberry-colored merino wool beret down over her ears and scampered into the Frank Lloyd Wright Memorial Visual Arts Building at Hollis College for her very first Mindless Art class. The lobby walls were full of student exhibits, announcements for art sales, and want ads for housemates. Aria noticed a flyer that said, HAVE YOU SEEN THE ROSEWOOD STALKER? There was a Xeroxed photograph of a figure looming in the woods, as blurry and cryptic as the murky shots of the Loch Ness Monster. Last week, there had been all sorts of news reports on the Rosewood Stalker, who was following people around, spying on their every move. But Aria hadn’t heard any stalker news for a few days now…about the same amount of time that A had been silent.
The elevator was out of service, so Aria climbed the cold, gray concrete stairs to the second floor. She located her Mindless Art classroom and was surprised to find it silent and dark. A jagged shape flickered against the window on the far side of the room, and as Aria’s eyes adjusted, she realized the room was full.
“Come in,” called a woman’s husky voice.
Aria felt her way to the back wall. The old Hollis building creaked and groaned. Someone near her smelled like menthol and garlic. Someone else smelled like cigarettes. She heard a giggle.
“I believe we’re all here,” the voice called out. “My name is Sabrina. Welcome to Mindless Art. Now, you’re all probably wondering why we’re standing here with the lights off. Art is about seeing, right? Well, guess what? It isn’t, not entirely. Art is also touching and smelling…and most definitely feeling. But mostly, it’s about letting go. It’s about taking everything you thought was true and throwing it out the window. It’s about embracing life’s unpredictability, letting go of boundaries, and starting over.”
Aria stifled a yawn. Sabrina had a slow, soporific voice that made her want to curl up and close her eyes.
“The lights are off for a little exercise,” Sabrina said. “We all form an image of someone in our heads, based on certain easy clues. The way one’s voice sounds, maybe. The type of music someone likes. The things you know about a person’s past, perhaps. But sometimes, our judgments aren’t right; in fact, sometimes they’re quite wrong.”
Years ago, Aria and Ali used to go to Saturday art classes together. If Ali were in this class with her now, she’d roll her eyes and say that Sabrina was a flaky granola-head with hairy armpits. But Aria thought what Sabrina was saying made sense—especially in regard to Ali. These days, everything Aria thought she’d known about Ali was wrong. Aria would never have imagined Ali was having a secret affair with her best friend’s sister’s boyfriend, though it certainly explained her cagey, bizarre actions before she disappeared. In those last few months, there were stretches when Ali wasn’t around for weekends at a time. She’d say she had to go out of town with her parents—surely that was code for time alone with Ian. Or once, when Aria had biked over to Ali’s house to surprise her, she’d found Ali sitting on one of the big boulders in her backyard, whispering into her cell phone. “I’ll see you this weekend, okay?” Ali was saying. “We can talk about it then.” When Aria called out her name, Ali whirled around, startled. “Who are you talking to?” Aria had asked innocently. Ali snapped her phone shut fast, narrowing her eyes. She considered her words for a while, and then said, “So, that girl your dad was kissing? I bet she’s like a Girls Gone Wild college girl who throws herself at guys. I mean, she’d have to be pretty ballsy to hook up with her teacher.” Aria had turned away, mortified. Ali had been with her the day she’d discovered Byron kissing Meredith, and she wouldn’t let it go. Aria was on her bike and halfway home before she realized Ali had never answered her question.
“So this is what I want us to do,” Sabrina said loudly, interrupting Aria’s memories. “Find the person nearest to you, and hold hands. Try to imagine what your neighbor looks like just by the way their hands feel. Then we’ll turn the lights on so you can sketch each other’s portraits based on what you see in your mind.”
Aria fumbled in the blue-black darkness. Someone grabbed her hand, feeling her wrist bones and the mounds in her palm.
“What sort of face do you see when you touch this person?” Sabrina called.
Aria shut her eyes, trying to think. The hand was small and a bit cold and dry. A face began to form in her mind. First the pronounced cheekbones, then the bright blue eyes. Long, blond hair, pink, bow-shaped lips.
Aria tightened her stomach. She was thinking of Ali.
“Turn away from your partner now,” Sabrina instructed. “Get your sketch pads out, and I’m going to turn on the lights. Do not look at your partners. I want you to sketch exactly what you saw in your brain, and we’ll see how close you are to the real thing.”
The bright overhead lights hurt Aria’s eyes as she shakily opened her sketch pad. She tentatively brushed the charcoal across her paper, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop from drawing Ali’s face. When she stepped back, she felt a huge lump in her throat. There was a whisper of a smile across Ali’s lips and a devious sparkle in her eye.
“Very nice,” said Sabrina—who looked exactly like her voice, with long, knotty brown hair; big boobs; a fleshy stomach; and puny, birdlike legs. She moved on to Aria’s partner. “That’s beautiful,” she murmured. Aria felt a pinch of annoyance. Why wasn’t her drawing beautiful? Did someone draw better than she did? Impossible.
“Time’s up,” Sabrina called. “Turn around and show your partners the results.”
Aria slowly turned, her eyes greedily assessing her partner’s allegedly beautiful sketch. And actually…it was beautiful. The drawing looked nothing like Aria, but it still was a much better rendering of a person than Aria could have done. Aria’s eyes floated up her partner’s body. The girl wore a fitted pink Nanette Lepore top. Her hair was dark and wild, spilling down her shoulders. She had creamy, blemish-free skin. Then, Aria saw the familiar turned-up button nose. And the giant Gucci sunglasses. There was a sleeping dog in a blue canvas vest at the girl’s feet. Aria’s entire body turned to ice.
“I can’t see what you drew of me,” her partner said in a soft, sweet voice. She pointed to her Seeing Eye dog in explanation. “But I’m sure it’s great.”
Aria’s tongue felt leaden in her mouth. Her partner was Jenna Cavanaugh.
11