french girls | discontinued

• blaze

BLAZE MIXON
SAIC, CHICAGO
2:48 PM

it was monday, and i was stressed as hell for this final project.

i had no idea what my subject or inspiration for this stupid assignment, that could cost me my entire education, would be.

and the professor wasn't helping with her yapping on and on about how important this project was, no matter how many times us students groaned.

so what do i do?

then out of nowhere, as if jesus was watching me in distress, an angel ascended down to me, in the form of a reckless and immature student.

and then all in a few seconds, a girl barged into the room, laid on the professor's desk and said,

"paint me like one of your french girls."

everybody shocked, looked at the professor for her reaction, but all we got was an eye roll.

"well, class. i don't think you guys have met my daughter, rihanna adkins."

the girl, named rihanna, laughed at her mom and waved to the class, "hi! sorry, guys. i was bored and wanted something to do. don't worry, i'll be leaving just as fast as i came in."

the class chuckled at her, not minding that she had given them a moment to breathe, but i was still stressed and so freaking desperate.

before she could completely walk out of the door, i groaned, squeezed my eyes shut, and jumped up out of my chair. "wait!"

everybody stared at me, including the professor and her daughter, waiting for me to say something.

"can i paint you like one of my french girls?"