| published! under the new title MEET ME IN THE MIDDLE | Eden knows she can't love Truman, the boy with the angelic smile and devilish eyes. Why? He's her best friend Katie's older brother, who she strictly promised she'd stay away from.
But when a...
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E D E N
I walked into Art class ten minutes early. All the seats were empty except one. The podium my professor usually stood at was empty too. It was covered in splatters of paint, with wood chipping off at the corners.
Smiling, I took my preferred seat in the corner, near the window overlooking the Quad with just enough natural light streaming in. It was the best spot in the class, and I sat down triumphantly.
As the room began to fill, I placed my canvas on the easel, and prepared my brushes. Once I looked up, students had slowly trickled in, setting up their supplies as our instructor told us in this morning's email. It was vague, at that. All she said was that we were having a surprise exercise, and to come to class ready to paint.
I couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of my artwork. I wasn't even an Art student, my major was undeclared and I was taking a bit of everything —History, English, Sociology— to see which I liked best.
So far, the answer was none.
Anyways, my art was shit. Another reason why I chose this spot in the corner: there was no one behind or beside me to watch or to ridicule. I could paint trash and no one would know.
Well, no one but my professor.
As soon as I thought her name, she walked into class, the gold bangles on her wrist making music with every footstep. Her blonde hair flowed to her hips, moving behind her like a cape as she took her usual spot at the podium.
She clapped her hands. "Hello, artists. I see you all received my email and came prepared." Her eyes scanned the class, face lighting up into a smile. "I have a special guest for us today."
I eyed the door, waiting to see who would walk through as she took a seat on an empty desk lingering in the first row. She clapped her hands once more.
"Lately," she began, voice carrying like wind, "we've been studying the human form. The curve of shoulders, the dip of a bottom, the bow of the lips. And today, we're going to be taking it a step further."
The class let out a collective breath as we realized what we'd be doing today: painting a person.
I grinned, excited.
"The human form is beautiful," she continued. "It should be celebrated, marvelled at. Hung in museums around the world for people to appreciate. All sizes, shapes and colours. Now," she stood up, returning to behind the podium. "You are all first year students, and I suspect you are mature enough to participate in today's activity. However, if you feel unable to, then feel free to leave and I will assign you a make up project instead."
