“Class, I understand this is an unexpected surprise, but art is about taking risks, making things work, and putting a twist on the traditional.” She gives me a pointed look, and I jerk back at the twinkle in her eye. I’d probably appreciate the subtle nod to my way of painting if my palms weren’t sweating a puddle on my apron.
“I want you to take what you’ve already painted and try to apply what our model will be showing today.”
So… a penis. I have to paint a penis.
“Miss Barley?” Ben asks from his spot on the other side of the room. Since I’m concentrating so hard on not looking at Zach, I see Tristan smile from behind his canvas. “I’ve painted him in pants already.”
“Then this will be a challenge.” She grins and fixes her hair, shoving a paintbrush up into her bun. “I’m excited to see what you come up with.”
Nope, nope… I can’t do it. Miss Barley nods to Zach, and he locks his eyes on mine, offering a small smile as he wriggles around. I imagine he’s disrobing, but my canvas is nice and huge and covering everything.
I’m in a room with a naked man. There is no way I’ll be able to concentrate on how I’m going to ask him out if he’s naked.
Naked.
Naked.
Naked.
My heart beats wildly in my chest, and my eyes start to do that stupid watering thing, and my fingers won’t stop shaking like an 8.2 magnitude earthquake. His icy blues twinkle at me in amusement, but it ain’t amusing whatsoever. I duck behind my canvas, but his painted eyes stare at me there, too.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I whisper at painting Zach. I don’t give a flying fart that Raina gives me the side-eye. It’s too soon to see him naked, even in the name of art. I’ve managed to avoid painting nude models in my twenty years, and I need to last a little longer. It feels too intimate of a thing when I haven’t had sex yet, haven’t even seen a penis in the flesh, or touched one… And I really, really, really, really want to date this guy, and all I’ll see is his naked body when I look at him if I—
“How’s it coming along, Candace?” Miss Barley says, and my arm flings out for my supplies, only to dump an entire bottle of gray paint to the floor.
“Shoot, shoot, shoot…” I mumble, rushing for the paint. I use a couple of paper plates to scoop the mess together, my brain racing and my eyes refusing to glance upward. Laughter starts to echo around me, and Miss Barley runs to the sink and pulls out paper towels long enough to reach the floor. My fingers are covered in gray, and I scoot back so my shoes don’t get attacked by the glob running toward the soles.
Bare feet step into my peripheral, and I slap a hand over my eyes, paint slipping over my temple. Zach cannot stand naked over me. He cannot squat to help.
“Sorry, I… I have to… I have to poop.”
And I bolt outta there.
***
The wall just outside the classroom is cold and comforting, cooling the sweat and calming my heart rate.
I said poop to him. I think I prefer hummerflagen.
My head hits the wall, and I stare up at the tiled ceiling. I was tempted to run all the way home, but I axed the idea. I have to see him eventually; he’ll most likely be our model for a while. If I run, I know I’ll ask Dad to put me in a different class—one where I don’t have to paint nudes—and then I’ll hole up in my innocent bubble and never see or do anything.
I know art encompasses so many different places, people, and lifestyles. I just need to… loosen up.
Darn that Pete.
After scrubbing in the bathroom, I talked myself into waiting for Zach after class. I’m still going to go for it—ask him out. Maybe he’ll find my fumbling cute? And my courage to ask him out sexy?
The click of the door jars me from my thoughts, and I push from the wall. My fingers tangle together, and my teeth find that canker sore and start toying. Group by group, my classmates file out, a few giving me grins and a few giving me sympathetic eyes. I hope they’re not upset that I bailed on cleaning. I plan on giving the floor a good scrub after asking Zach out.
My teeth let my inner lip go, and I suck in a deep breath. My heart starts to pound again, but at least I’m done sweating.
His beautifully robed self emerges from the room, next to Ben and Abby. They’re laughing about something, and I don’t want to interrupt, but he’s not looking my way.
“Hey… you!” Oh gosh, I’ve brain-farted his name.
All three of them give me a look, and I quickly shake my brain into working mode.
“Zach. I mean Zach.” I give him a smile that probably looks like I’m constipated, but they all know I’m not. “Um… you got a second?”
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he nods, waving bye to the other two. Ben snakes his hand down to Abby, and they hold hands as they exit the building. Darn, that’s too bad for Tristan.
“What’s up?”
I take a deep breath and internally scold myself to not botch this for the millionth time. He’s really cute, standing in a fluffy black robe, tightly secure with the tie at the hip. His bare feet poke out from the bottom, and I try not to think about how he should really wear flip flops or something in this high traffic hallway.
“Do you have any plans tonight?”
“Just this,” he answers with a delectable smile.
“Did you want to get a drink or something?”
His eyes narrow, and he gives me a once over. Am I too underdressed to go out? I mean… he’s naked.
“You drink?”
I blink a few times. “Oh! Um, no. I’m underage, so that’s like, a huge no no for me. Not that I judge people who do, it’s just I’m more of a follow the law type of girl.” Yikes, need to fix. “I meant like, coffee or something.”
An amused look crosses his blue eyes, but his smile looks sympathetic rather than happy. “Look… Candace, is it?”
I nod. At least he remembers my name.
“You’re cute. But I honestly don’t think you’re my type.”
Time pauses for just a second, long enough for him to dig his fingers into my chest, pull my heart out, and kick it into the trash can down the hall.
“Uh… what?” I say, my breath catching.
“I don’t want to offend you.” He leans against the wall with his shoulder, looking too darn handsome while he flat out rejects me. “But from what I know about you, I don’t think you’d enjoy what I like to do.”
“Like what?”
He smirks. “Like bending the rules.” He pushes from the wall and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry, but I figured I’d nip it in the bud.”
“Yeah. Makes sense.” I force a smile, but deep inside I’m a pitiful human looking in the mirror and criticizing every single part of herself. I lift a shoulder. “It was worth a shot.”
He smiles, satisfied with how I’m taking this. Maybe I should’ve gone into acting.
“Can I walk you out?”
“In your robe?”
He laughs. “Why not?”
I shake my head, wanting to get away from him as soon as possible. “That’s okay. I’ll see you next class.”
“If you don’t have to shit instead of seeing me naked.” He winks like he’s joking, but it’s not funny.