Is Bridgeport big enough for Kae, Robyn, Alex and Jasmine? They're all beautiful, captivating, and a little bit crazy... but there can be only one It Girl.
[ Based on the It Girl series by Cecily Von Ziegesar ]
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Kae set down her art supplies on a table in the center of the studio, and the heavy box of pastels clanged against the metal, resounding in the enormous, totally empty space. The building was open most evenings for anyone who needed more time at the sketching tables, but most students didn't take advantage of it.
She turned on Mrs. Silver's boom box to keep her company. It was tuned to some oldies station, but Kae left it there—it kind of made her think of her dad, and how every morning he'd shuffle around the kitchen in his slippers, making coffee to one of the three Temptations CDs he kept in regular rotation on the portable CD player Kae had bought him for Christmas. "Oldies for the oldie," he liked to say.
As she came back to her desk and began to arrange her art supplies into neat categories, Kae couldn't help but smile. She loved the art building when no one else was around. The huge plate glass windows looked out on the brightly colored leaves, tinges of which were still visible even though the sun was just setting, and the reflections of the track lights twinkled back at her. The windows reminded her a little of the city, of walking down Columbus Avenue at night and looking into the enormous shop windows, the people walking on the street reflected inside them.
Kae looked up as the studio door clattered open and Rakim stepped inside, chewing on an apple. She could see the dimple next to his mouth. She grinned from across the giant room.
"Hey there." Her voice echoed across the empty studio, carrying over the sound of an old Diana Ross song. She waved Rakim over toward where she was setting out her supplies: a giant block of watercolor paper, pastels, charcoals, watercolors, even a few tubes of paint. She'd come overprepared because she wasn't sure what medium she wanted to use, exactly. She was sort of waiting for...inspiration. "You made it," she added with a smile.
Rakim took another chomp of his green apple and took in the high, sloping ceilings and the huge dramatic windows appreciatively. Then his gaze trailed down to her and his eyes widened. "Hey, am I dressed okay for this? I know you love the T-shirts, but..." He was wearing a long-sleeve button-up and a pair of jeans. "I mean, you look really nice. Like someone should be drawing you," he added.
Kae willed herself not to blush at the compliment. She had been surprisingly nervous getting ready but had finally decided on her puff-sleeve turtleneck made of something super-soft that looked silky in the light, and a pair of dark fitted jeans from the Gap that she'd had forever. Definitely nothing fancy, but it was totally sweet of Rakim to tell her she looked nice. "Um, thanks. But yeah—you're dressed fine," she finally answered, hoping she hadn't blushed in spite of herself.
"Cool." Rakim hopped up onto the little mini-stage in the middle of the studio, where the models posed during class. His heavy Timberland boots clomped loudly against the wooden platform, and with the extra height he towered over Kae—even more than usual. "Is this where you want me?" he asked with a grin.
