Why does she care what I assume about her? I've been doing that since the moment I first laid eyes on her. So, what's different now?
She sighs and continues talking. “Art is important; it's just as much of a subject as any other subject. Just because I'm not very good at it doesn't mean that I don't respect it.”
Her speech once again throws me off, her tone serious, like she actually cares about what I think of her opinion on Art. Am I just wishfully thinking?
Regardless, I believe what she's saying and I'm glad she said it. “Did you just admit you're not good at something?”
She giggles loudly and I almost forget to breathe. She's actually laughing; a hearty laugh that's directed at something I've said. I can't take my eyes off her; the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs and holds her chest. Why are my hands sweating?
“That's the only thing you got from that?” she questions, still giggling. I find myself smiling and shrugging in response.
Of course, that's not the only thing I garnered from that. When Adaline speaks, I tend to focus on everything that comes out of her mouth. Yet again, she's proven my assumptions wrong and I should be angry about that, but I'm not.
“We can just do tutoring tomorrow then,” she says, changing the subject and I snap my eyes back to her.
Instantly, a lightbulb goes off in my head. Not a very bright one, but a dim one that is crackling, begging to be seen.
“Wait,” I say before she starts to walk away.
This is a horrible idea; one that I will probably regret tomorrow, but it's the only convenient option I have at the moment.
“Yeah?” she asks, looking confused.
I smile sheepishly. “Any chance you want to help me with my art project by…modelling for me?”
“No.”
To be fair, I saw the answer coming from a mile away. I mean this is Adaline Emery; nothing is ever easy with this little vixen. That's fine though, I hate easy.
“Oh, come on!”
“No.” Her deliberate enunciation of the word irritates me beyond belief.
“Look, you can even tutor me right after!” As logical as my explanation is, I can’t help how whiny my voice sounds. “We can stay on track for our sessions instead of rescheduling.”
She stays silent, looking thoughtful, as if she's waiting for me to continue, so I do just that. “There's an exam coming up, don't you want me to pass? How else are you going to get your letter sent off?”
So, I can't remember my art project, but I can remember that there's a biology exam coming up? What is really wrong with me?
Using the letter to get what I want is what I'm good at—bartering and bribery; manipulation at its finest. Then again, with Adaline, it's never one-sided. I think we both manipulate each other in our own ways.
Hesitancy is written all over her face, her thick eyebrows scrunched up as she contemplates what to decide. This is her usual thinking face—not to be confused with her focused face, which is when she bites her bottom lip and glares at whatever she's focused on.
She sighs deeply. “Fine.”
Wait, what? That worked? I cheer inwardly at how shocked I am right now, but I don't let it show as I fear it will piss her off. There's nothing she hates more than when I get my way.
It's very fitting that all I had to do was bring up her letter and she melted into a puddle of complete and utter willingness
I like it.
Before I can direct her toward a chair she can use, she walks to the left and grabs one herself. She makes a point of dragging it across the floor, piercing my ears with the shrill noise.
Of course, she has to be infuriating. I can't say much to her though because she's agreed to be my model.
She sits down in front of me, taking off her backpack and dropping it on the floor beside her, then looks at me expectantly. “So, you're going to draw me?”
Drawing Adaline Emery for God knows how many hours? That is not how I envisioned this day to go at all.
