“Why is your mannequin here?” he asked.
“She’s a dress form, not a mannequin.”
He didn’t say anything. Just waited for me to answer the question.
I sighed. “Can I show you something?”
He shrugged.
“Give me one second,” I said.
I hurried back into the tiny house to get my iPad, apologizing to Samaya when she grumbled something about trying to sleep.
His expression was blank when I returned. “What do you want to show me?”
“This,” I said, bringing up the sketch of the flower dress on the iPad. I handed it to him.
I let him look at it for a few seconds, zooming in, studying the design. “This looks a bit like my sculpture design. And yours.”
I nodded. “Exactly. On the way here my sister pointed out if we flipped them and put them together, it kind of looked like a dress.” I pointed out the parts that came from his Bloom design and mine, showing him the flowers and extra grasses I’d added for movement. I was getting louder and talking faster as I explained it. “I brought my dress form out to see if I could drape the chicken wire onto it to make the bodice. The skirt part is easy because you did such an amazing job—”
“Wait, Tahira.” He shook his head, looking incredulous. “Do you seriously want to change the Bloom designnow? The night before the competition?”
“No, I’m just trying something...you know, like, proof of concept...I just need to clip the back...” I turned the dress form.
“Tahira, look at me.”
My arm dropped and I turned to him. He still had that intense look of...annoyance?
He ran his hand over his head. “You’re a very frustrating person, you know that?”
He was right. What was I thinking? I really shouldn’t have even been on this team. I definitely shouldn’t have been playing with his sculpture frame the night before the competition. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m getting in the way. Never mind. I’ll try this out later on my own time.”
I turned the chicken wire iris right side up and unlocked the wheels on Ruby with my foot. I rolled her over the uneven grass back toward the tiny house.
As an artist, I was used to some people not appreciating my work, but I still had to push down the stomach sourness that came with every rejection. But this was worse, because the rejection was coming from someone I was most likely in love with. But maybe being in love with Rowan was beside the point right now.
Or was it the entire point?
I squeezed my eyes shut. Samaya was right. This—obsessing over this design—was avoidance. I just didn’t want to face the hard truth about Rowan and me. That my feelings were much stronger than his.
I continued pushing the chicken wire–covered dress form like a fool. No doubt she’d already left dents in the lawn. I couldn’t seem to stop ruining everything.
“Wait, Tahira,” Rowan said.
I sighed and turned around.
“You’re frustrating.” Rowan shook his head. “But you’re a genius.” He looked back down at the iPad. “A literal genius. This is amazing. Also, I’ve never met another person who gets so excited about an idea that they have to build it right away.”
I gave a tiny smile. “You live in a small town. Wait until you’re surrounded by creatives next year. They’re all intense like you and me.”
Still not meeting my eyes, he nodded. “I’ve spent the last two days convinced that you and I were way too different.”
“We’re not different.”
He took a breath. “So, explain it to me. The mannequin would be the frame for the sculpture?”
I blinked a few times, then wheeled Ruby back to him. “No. I’m only using her to shape the chicken wire for the bodice. Here, look.”
