“Yelp.”
“You Yelped a painting class.”
“I Yelped several painting classes.” She’s climbing faster now. That nervous energy radiating off her. “This one had the best reviews.”
“Best reviews for what?”
“Painting.” She throws it over her shoulder. Too casual. Too quick.
We reach the third floor. A hallway with several doors. Art studios, probably. I can hear music from one. Voices from another.
Alex leads me to a door at the end of the hall. There’s a sign. Professional. Clean.
Figure Drawing Studio - Session in Progress
I stop walking.
Figure drawing.
Figure drawing.
As in drawing figures.
As in drawing human figures.
As in drawingnakedhuman figures.
“Alex.”
“Yes?” She turns to me. Too innocent. That look she gets when she knows exactly what she’s done and is waiting for me to catch up.
“Figure drawing.”
“Yep!” Still too bright. Too cheerful.
“As in... drawing figures.”
“That’s generally what the words mean, yes.”
“As in naked figures.”
She grins. Big. Shameless. “Surprise!”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on!”
“No. Nope. Not happening.”
“Dylan—”
“I am not drawing a naked person!”
“Why not?”
“Because I—” I gesture wildly. At her. At the door. At the entire concept. “I don’t know how! I’ll be terrible at it! Everyone will see how terrible I am and judge me!”
“Everyone will be too focused on their own terrible drawings to notice yours.”
