bapa: from here to eternity

chapter 21: art made by art

Chapa POV:

Today was the day of the exhibition, and for once, we were allowed to stay home if we wanted to prepare. The exhibition was set to start around 6 p.m., and students from the cooking department were taking care of all the food and snacks. The organizers had assured us that our art would be handled and displayed properly. All we had to do was show up an hour earlier, at 5 p.m., to make sure everything was in order.

I wasn't in any rush to do anything soon. I'd already prepared my presentation for those who might be interested, and all my other tasks for the day were completed. It felt strange having so much free time on a day that was supposed to be so important. I knew I should be nervous or excited or something, but instead, I felt oddly calm. Maybe it was the confidence that I had done everything I needed to, or maybe I was just trying not to overthink it.

Sage was going to meet me at my place around 4:45 p.m. to head over together. Now that she knew exactly where I lived, it was easier for us to coordinate. She was almost 16, and although the exhibition didn't allow anyone under 16, I knew she would behave. She was so excited to see my art, and honestly, I was looking forward to showing it to her.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a message from Bose: "Should I pick you up and bring you to the exhibition today?"

And there he was again. Offering to help, to drive me, to make things easier. It was hard not to appreciate it, but at the same time, I didn't want to rely on him. I knew he wouldn't hold it over my head, but still, the idea of depending on him made me uneasy. I couldn't afford to lose my independence, even in small ways like this.

"No, I'll just take the bus, thank you for the offer though," I replied, hoping to sound confident in my decision.

After that, I decided to head to the grocery store to pick up some essentials for the next few days. It was a mundane task, but it helped pass the time and kept my mind off the exhibition. When I got home, I took a long shower, trying to wash away the last remnants of nervousness that were starting to creep in.

Then came the dress. The dress that Bose had insisted on buying for me. As I pulled it out of the box, I suddenly realized something: I hadn't even tried it on yet. What if it didn't fit? What if it was too tight, or too loose, or just didn't look right?

I slipped it on, and to my relief, it fit—barely. It was a bit tighter than I was used to, hugging every curve and leaving very little to the imagination. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, feeling a wave of discomfort wash over me. The dress was beautiful, yes, but it wasn't me. It was too revealing, too... something. I wasn't used to wearing clothes that showed off my body like this, and it made me feel vulnerable in a way that I wasn't sure I was ready for.

As I fidgeted with the hem of the dress, trying to adjust it in some way that made me feel less exposed, the doorbell rang. It was Sage.

She greeted me with a big hug and immediately started gushing over the dress. "You look stunning!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration.

I tried to brush off the compliment. "Thanks, but it's just a dress."

"How did you even get that? It looks so expensive," she asked, eyeing the intricate details.

I hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit the truth. "Well, I don't know. I got it from a friend," I said, trying to sound casual.

"Bose? Isn't it?" she asked, her tone teasing.

"Noo, it's not," I lied, but the words came out unconvincingly.

Sage laughed, clearly seeing through my weak denial. But she didn't press the issue, which I was grateful for.