Not His Girl

He Is Literally Shirtless All The Time

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Excuse the mistakes

Picture on the side is Derek (Ben Whishaw) --->

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I tipped my head to the side and frowned.

I had been staring at this woman’s painting for the past seven minutes, and I still had no idea what drug she was on. It’s not that the painting was too abstract or what have you; I could appreciate abstract paintings, since I did quite a few myself. No, this woman’s painting was a mixture of smiley faces, hearts, and a green blob that was either a lizard or an alien.

“Well?” the woman asked, looking at me expectantly, “what do you think, dear?”

“I like the way you’ve mixed the colors,” I said, which was actually true. However, that small compliments wasn’t enough to appease the woman, so I scrambled for something else to say. “Your concept is very… interesting.”

‘Thank you!” the woman replied brightly. She looked like she was going to ask me another question, but before she could, the timer at the front of the room went off. I let out a silent sigh of relief and clapped my hands together.

“Alright everyone!” I called, and I felt every pair of eyes snap to me. “That’s the end of class. If you could please put away your materials and pieces, it would be really helpful because a class is coming in right after us.”

Immediately, everyone started picking up their brushes and such, and as they started to load their work onto the drying racks, I walked over to the stereo. I liked to play music whenever I was in the studio, whether I was with other people or not. Today, I’d opted for the Skylar Grey album.

I disconnected my phone from the stereo, and I jammed it in my back pocket carelessly. I turned and watched as my students walked out of the studio, and I couldn’t help but grin and feel proud. Today had been my first time teaching a class, since Ruby and Hank had left for their cruise yesterday. I had been nervous because a number of the class was older than me, but everyone treated me with respect.

The last person left the studio, and I started a sweep through the room, picking up cups full of dirty water or a forgotten paint brush. Suddenly, just as I finished straightening an easel, the door to the studio banged open to reveal an erratic Derek. He was gripping a phone in one hand, and his other was clenched in a fist.

“You okay there?” I asked slowly, and Derek shook his head.

“I am so fucked,” he replied, stepping into the studio and letting the door swing shut behind him. “My model for my class just canceled on me, and everyone is out there waiting. I don’t have time to find a replacement, and everyone is expecting to draw from life today.”

“That really sucks,” I replied, and I set my hand on my hip. Derek nodded in agreement, but then his eyes suddenly lit up like he had been hit with an idea. It only took me a moment, but I read his mind and instantly starting shaking my head vigorously. “No!”

“C’mon Harper!” Derek begged, “You’d be really helping me out, and I’ll pay you!”

“Nope, nope, and nope,” I maintained, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Absolutely not.”

“Harper, please!”

“No.”

“Harper.”