The Gemini Concept
THE FIRST CLASS I had the next day was Art and I was actually looking forward to the start of something new to work on. I missed painting and drawing. It was my safe space and I hadn’t done it in a while because of everything that’d been going on. I wasn’t going to deny that I’d been slacking off lately and it wasn’t okay. River had been trying to get me to draw my feelings to help combat the ghost of torment I still had looming over my head about my mom.
Actually, he and I hadn’t spoken in two days, he kept texting me and telling me that he was busy with school and I understood that because he takes all advanced classes and he’d been working on the painting the school was being commissioned for. I reached into my pocket and looked over our texts from last night.
ME: Hey, wanna hang out tonight?
RIVER: Sorry can’t, working late.
ME: Take a break, you’ve been working so hard all week.
RIVER: No.
ME: 🙁
RIVER: Sorry.
I shrugged it off and sat next to Victoria as we all waited for Monsieur Ettiene to arrive. River walked in a few minutes later wearing a black and white Givenchy sweater, his hair was tussled and he looked tired like he didn’t want to be there. No one else noticed, but I did, I noticed everything. I got up from my seat and made my way over to him and he looked up at me, he gave me a wry smile.
‘Hey.’ I greeted cheerfully, ‘Hope you didn’t stay up too late.’
‘Of course not, don’t worry about it.’ He remarked playing with the tips of my braids between his fingers, and I grinned at the gesture. Just then Monsieur Étienne made his way hurriedly into class tossing his briefcase onto his messy desk. I quickly made my way back to my seat next to Tori.
‘Bonjour la class!’ He cheered, and everyone gave him a round of applause in response, ‘Welcome to the start of a new semester in your specialist art class here at St Kathrine’s. This semester we will be working on the idea of the Gemini concept, this is the idea that everyone has two faces, the one you show to the world and the one you see in the mirror that you conceal from the public eye. You will be working in your portfolios and sketching your Gemini.’
‘This is going to be a therapy session I didn’t need,’ Tori whispered to me and I laughed,
‘Don’t look at me I’m a Capricorn,’ I replied and she placed her hand on mine,
‘That explains a whole lot.’ Victoria declared and I rolled my eyes playfully.
We spent the rest of the class planning our portfolios and I had the exact image of what I was going to draw in my head and I knew that this was the piece that would set me apart from the rest. I planned to sketch a drawing of the two sides of me, the little girl who grew up in Kenya and the girl who was forced to adapt to the new Western world and is struggling to figure out who she was. Those girls were both me and I owed it to myself to capture them the best I could.
By the time the end of class came around, I was almost done and I stayed behind a little to finish up my plan, I couldn’t help but overhear Monsieur Etienne’s conversation with River upfront.
‘You must redo your painting, there’s no other way, the colours don’t match and the textures and brush strokes are all wrong.’ Monsieur scolded holding up River’s painting of the Eiffel Tower, it was beautiful but he sure as hell didn’t seem to think so.
‘I’ve been working on this nonstop all week, I’m not redoing it.’ River declared standing his ground,
‘River I’m your teacher no?’ He retorted and River impatiently slammed his hand onto monsieurs desk,
‘Exactly and you know better than anyone how hard I worked on this, and how long it would take to redo it. I don’t have the time I have other classes that require just as much- if not more attention.’ River emphasised,
‘I’ve always said this to other students but I never thought I’d have to repeat the same to you; it’s either you’re in and you’re in it with everything you’ve got- or you’re out and you forfeit. This isn’t just about you Monsieur Kennedy, this is about the school and its image, take this as the privilege that it is!’ Monsieur demanded,
River shut his eyes for a moment in thought before storming out and slamming the door shut so hard it made goosebumps rise on my skin. I knew how frustrating it was and it was for that reason that I said;
‘Perhaps you’re being a little too hard on him?’ I suggested and Monsieur Etienne scoffed,
‘This academy isn’t for the weak of heart. He’s handled it before and he can handle it again.’
After French it was lunch and we all made our way to the cafeteria and I basically had to drag River along with me. It was Baguette au fromage for lunch today and I was starving. Sometimes I wished we were allowed to eat in class instead of starving for two whole hours.
‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ I asked River,
‘Erm no, I’m not hungry right now.’ He replied with a shrug and I didn’t think much of it.
I was seated opposite Gene who looked chipper than usual this morning and I wondered why.
‘What’s got you in such a good mood?’ I asked and she smiled knowingly,
‘Mon père is coming to visit this weekend, and I can’t wait for all the gifts he brings with him. I do need a new closet.’ Gene told us and I nodded slowly and tried my best to seem interested,
‘Mer, why don’t you tell Armani about your new beau?’ Keomi suggested with a wink and Mer got all excited,
‘Armani I’ve been meaning to tell you, I met someone.’ She told me and I was excited too, for her, ‘His name is Muleya and he’s so kind and smart and we’re going on another date this weekend.’
I turned to look at River knowingly but when I did so he was staring out into space so I turned back to her. I wouldn’t want to be that girl who’s all we met before blah blah blah so I decided to act like the name was new to me for her sake. I didn’t want to ruin her excitement.
‘That’s great, I’m so happy for you and I can’t wait to meet him.’ I grinned and she raised her eyebrows.
I returned my gaze back to River who seemed on edge and distant today, actually the past two days I realized. I wasn’t going to push him to talk to me, I’d learned my lesson well enough about doing that and how it never got me anywhere. So I decided not to push it until I noticed it, the way his hands were balled up in fists beneath the table. The way his expression remained calm and composed under the surface but his mind was a hurricane.
I opened up the palm of his left hand and saw the swollen red crescent wounds his nails had left on his skin and at first he tried, to jeer his hand away from me but I stopped him and looked intently into his eyes and I saw that he was battling something within. I wanted to ask what it was but I knew that he wouldn’t tell me, he would talk to me when he was ready and I’d be here waiting. It hurt me to know that this was the way he found to cope, to scar himself this way when things got too much.
I looked into his eyes in the hopes that I would find something, anything, a clue perhaps to what was going through his mind but I was unsuccessful. His expression was so unreadable and blank and it scared me almost, I’d never seen him so distant.
‘Are you okay ?’ I asked as he’d asked me many times, my voice small and merely a whisper enough for him to hear me,
‘It’s nothing, I’m fine.’ River said before untangling his hand from mine and proceeding to get up from the table, leaving and disappearing into the hallway.
‘What’s up with him?’ Keomi asked me,
‘I’m going to go find out–‘ Gene attempted to follow him down the hall but I stopped her before she could even get up as she once did to me.
‘Just sit down, Genevieve,’ I said to her and her expression turned frustrated but it was for the best to just give him space wasn’t it?
I hoped so.
Later on that evening, I decided to go over to River’s apartment because he hadn’t texted me back the entire day and It was getting on my last nerves. I drove across Paris to see him, so yeah I cared, I cared a lot actually. The lady at the front desk let me up because she recognized me from the many times I’d come over. I made my way up the elevator and into his apartment, but he was nowhere to be seen.
‘River?’ I called but he didn’t answer so I wandered down the hallway to his bedroom which I’d never really seen before, and there was another room right next to it. I pushed the door open and it was an art room, garnished top to bottom with supplies and blank canvases.
I wished I had a room like that, that I could just dedicate to my art. River was at the centre of it all trapped in a trace and painted with the utmost precision. His hands moving in a rapid blur of technique, he didn’t even notice I’d come into the room, so when I cleared my throat he looked up at me and his expression softened.
‘Didn’t mean to interrupt Picasso.’ I teased and he paused and put his paintbrush back in the water, ‘You kind of bailed on me today, that wasn’t very nice.’
‘I know and I’m sorry I just had a lot of work, and it gets hard to keep up sometimes,’ River admitted and I made my way over to him,
‘It’s okay, just make sure you’re not biting off more than you can chew okay?’ I reminded him and I pulled him into a hug and he wrapped his arms around me,
‘Yeah I hear you, I will.’ He assured me by placing a kiss onto my forehead.
‘Does that mean I can stay the night?’ I asked, mumbling into his chest in the hopes that he’d let me.
‘Uh yeah sure.’ He agreed and my heart felt full once more.
‘River?’ I asked my voice smaller than usual,
‘Hm?’ He replied,
‘Did you eat today?’ I asked,
‘Yeah.’ He shrugged brushing me off,
‘Did you really eat today?’ I asked once more,
‘No.’ He replied, and I sighed untangling myself from his arms and pulling him along with me, making my way to his kitchen.
‘Armani, stop you don’t have to.’ River protested,
‘Yes I do, now what do you want?’ I asked sitting him down at the counter as I flipped through the pages of a random cookbook I found.
‘Nothing.’ He replied, ‘Seriously you-‘
‘Baked vegan feta pasta it is.’ I declared and his expression softened with gratitude.
I grabbed a pot and put the pasta on to boil while I sprinkled a bunch of spices to the feta to give it more flavour, because who the fuck wants to eat plain flavourless vegan cheese? As I did so River insisted on helping me and he thought I didn’t notice but he looked almost pale and absent-minded, but I decided not to think much of it. I tuned into the news channel and watched it while he ate.
‘Monsieur Etienne was wrong to put all this pressure on you, it’s unfair, you’ve got other classes too,’ I mentioned as he picked at his food,
‘He was right, my painting wasn’t good enough. Allard is paying the school thousands of euros for my commission and if I fuck it up it’ll be the end of me.’ He told me and I paused,
‘Jesus, you’re overreacting I’m sure it’s not as big of a deal as you’re putting it out to be. It’s not worth it, you should take a break.’ I insisted, trying to minimise his stress to make him feel better, but maybe it came across as harsh and he didn’t say anything to that.
After Dinner I made my way into his room, the roofing was partly made of glass and you could see the night sky above it. Everything was so neat and orderly you’d think it was a hotel room, not one shirt was on the floor, not one pillow out of place and I immediately knew that he was such a perfectionist in everything. Not just in his artwork.
‘I uh- I don’t have anything to wear to bed,’ I told him and he gave me a half-tired smile,
‘You can pick out a shirt from my closet.’ He pointed out and I made my way into his huge walk-in closet, I didn’t even know which shirt to pick. I didn’t want to pick out any of the expensive-looking fancy ones so I chose a random plain white baggy one and changed into it.
River was on the couch and gestured for me to take the bed and I did just that, it was a king-sized bed and it felt so odd to be in it all alone. And plus it was unfair, it was his bed and I was the guest so I should be taking the couch.
‘Come here,’ I insisted and he made his way over to me and joined me on the other side of the bed, I leaned my head on his chest and I could hear his heartbeat over the fabric of his T-shirt.
I reached over and held his hand in mine and traced my fingers over the scars, over and around, up and down trying to understand.
‘You shouldn’t do this to yourself.’ I murmured, ‘Why do you do it?’
‘Sometimes everything feels sort of too much and I don’t know how to process it. When I was a kid my mother would cry and ask me what she did wrong, she’d say si tan solo pudieras amarte a ti mismo como yo te amo, sangre de mi sangre. Which I later found out means, if only you could love yourself in the way that I love you, blood of my blood,’ He whispers looking up at the ceiling, ‘I guess a part of me thinks it’s easier to do this and hurt myself than to hurt anyone else.’
‘When I was fifteen I used to pull out my hair whenever I got stressed, I had an empty patch at the back of my head for years and no one knew. I get it, that sometimes these things help to focus the pain so you don’t feel it as much anymore, but it helps to talk about it to someone– anyone. I know this might not mean a lot but I care, and you can talk to me.’ I assured him, and I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the palm of his hand as he kissed my hair.
‘You’re wrong, it means everything to me.’ He assured me and I fell asleep in his arms at that.
When I awoke I was alone in bed, I sat up and checked the time on my phone and I squinted my eyes from the brightness, it was 3 AM. I slipped out of the sheets and I made my way up to the art room to find him. I knocked on the door, but no one answered, I pushed open the wooden door and it creaked open. I stood in the doorway with my arms folded in frustration, I was prepared to drag him by his perfect dark hair if I needed to.
It took me a moment to realize exactly what it was that I was looking at, but once I did my heart stopped. There was River in the corner of the room with a scalpel in his hand, his beautiful painting of the Eiffel Tower had three huge gashes through it. When my eyes met his, he immediately dropped the blade, his eyes had always been the palest most captivating shade of blue, and at this moment they were wild and unfocused.
I’d seen this before with many artists in my grade, the idea that when you hate your art, you destroy it. But River was destroying himself and I couldn’t stand by and watch. River had made an effort to be my rock, my comfort, and my safe place. It was time for me to be his. He was practically shaking, I took his hands in mine as he melted into my touch.
‘Hey, I’ve got you,’ I assured him, ‘What happened?’
‘I don’t know, I just- I’m never fucking good enough Armani.’ He said, confiding in me. He rarely did that, he never liked talking about things that made him feel vulnerable, but I liked to believe that we were working on that— together.
‘You’re always good enough for me.’ I smiled looking into his eyes, I placed a comforting hand on his cheek and that’s when I realized his pale skin was slick with sweat.
‘It’s not about you, don’t you get it?’ He shot spitefully and impatiently,
‘River are you oka-‘ I spoke but before I could finish my sentence he nearly passed out into my arms.
‘I feel like I can’t breathe.’ He murmured almost incoherently, and that’s when I realized he was having an anxiety attack. My little brother Jaadi used to get these all the time when he first started middle school, and I too when I had competitions so I knew what it’s like.
‘Yes, you can, breathe in,’ I instructed, lowering us down so we were face to face on the floor. ‘I promise it’s all in your head, hold it, and breathe out.’ He did as I said and I could feel his heart rate slowing down.
‘You don’t know that.’ He replied,
‘Do you trust me?’ I repeated as he once asked me,
‘I do.’ He replied,
‘Close your eyes and picture the place where you’re the happiest. Where you’re free of any obligations and worries, it’s just you. You look around you and what do you see?’ I asked stroking the darkness of his hair,
‘You.’ He said almost incoherently,
‘What about me?’ I asked stunned,
‘I see you.’ He clarified, opening his eyes and my heart stopped, I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that.
He then leaned in to kiss me, softly and slowly and patiently. A kiss that said you’re my home.
I placed my hand beneath the fabric of his shirt and stroked his chest in an attempt to get him to calm down, As far as I knew, he’d never had an anxiety attack before. Once he calmed down he leaned his head on the cool tiles of the wall and I placed both my hands on either side of his face, our foreheads touching. We made our way back to his bedroom and I sat down with him on the cold floor at the foot of the king-sized bed.
‘You’re an amazing artist River Kennedy, you’ll be perfectly fine,’ I assured him and his face scrunched up as he shifted uncomfortably, placing a hand over his stomach.
‘Would it make you feel better if I told you I’ve been through all of this many times before?’ I suggested giving him a sarcastic thumbs up, ‘Actually this takes me back to eleventh grade when-‘
‘Hey sorry not to cut this conversation short and all, you know I love your stories but I’m starting to feel really nauseous.’ River interrupted shutting his eyes and I realized, ‘I feel like I’m going to throw up.’
‘Throw up?’ I asked in shock with an awkward smile,
‘Yeah.’ He replied leaning his head back,
‘Like right now?’ I asked again because oh fuck–
‘Yeah like right now.’ He said looking up at me with glassy eyes,
‘Oh yeah shit that’s a side effect of having an anxiety attack, I’ll be back with some tea,’ I ran a single hand through his hair, ‘You’re not going to be sick just try to focus on your breathing,’ I assured him but I could see it on his face, he looked so pale, he didn’t even reply.
‘Stand up and come with me to go get some tea okay?’ I asked reaching out my hand but he shook his head no in refusal. ‘Why not?’
‘parce que si je me lève je vais vomir par terre.’ He murmured slightly irritatedly shutting his eyes with dizziness because if I stand up I’m going to throw up on the floor.
‘Ha ha sure okay got it!’ I grinned nervously, ‘I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.’
I made my way to the kitchen and brewed two cups of chamomile green tea.
When I returned to the bedroom he was in the bathroom with the door shut and when I heard him actually throwing up I cringed, but this wasn’t the time for that. I didn’t know it would get this bad and if I knew I wouldn’t have told him he was just overreacting. This is what stress does, it eats at you until you have nothing left to give. I was angry at myself and I was angry at Monsieur Ettiene for being such a shitty human and pushing him way too hard. It was time for me to just be there for him.
‘Was my cooking that bad?’ I chuckled, but I realised this wasn’t the time for my shitty nervous jokes either. I knocked on the door and at first, he refused to let me in but I insisted and he did so.
I kneeled down next to him and rubbed slow circles on his back as he gagged and somehow managed to throw up the little he’d eaten tonight turning away from me. I brushed his dark hair away from his face and he thanked me with his eyes. I tried my best to calm him down and pour him a glass of water, he drank a little bit but it immediately came back up and I felt horrible for him.
I brushed his hair back once more so it didn’t get in his face and he leaned his tired head against my shoulder.
‘I can’t- I can’t keep up.’ He spoke so softly I almost couldn’t hear him,
‘I know,’ I hushed, ‘It’s okay.’
He lurched forward once more and his eyes watered when nothing came up.
‘There’s nothing left for you to throw up, try and take some deep breaths okay?’ I hummed and he shut his eyes,
That’s when I began to rummage through his cabinets until I found exactly what I was looking for.
I found the bottle labelled hydroxyzine that had his name on it, it was an anxiety medication. I handed them to him and he looked up at me.
‘I’m not taking those.’ He refuted,
‘It’ll make you feel better, you don’t have to be brave all the time- not for me River,’ I assured him and he took one reluctantly.
“You couldn’t spare yourself all of this you know?” He groaned, “If you just stayed away from me like I’d asked, you wouldn’t have had to learn about all the ugly.”
“Do your worst, Kennedy.” I challenged him. “I can handle ugly, I know it all too well.”
“You can’t mean that…”
“Oh.” I hummed kissing his forehead, “But I do.”
I got up and brought a few blankets and pillows into the bathroom and made a makeshift fort. We lay down and talked, talked everything through. Just me and him, I liked it this way.
‘Qu’est-ce que j’ai fait pour te mériter?’ He asked, what did I do to deserve you?
‘J’y pense tout le temps aussi, j’y pense, je ne te mérite pas non plus.’ I think about it all the time too, I think about how much I don’t deserve you either.
