"I have five minutes before class starts, I'm not taking you."
"That's plenty of time!"
"Mal, just walk."
"Carlos, have you been outside?! It's so hot I might actually melt before I get there!"
"You're being dramatic."
"You're being unreasonable!"
"Just stay in here until class gets out then," Carlos suggests.
Mal scoffs at the suggestion.
"What am I going to do for two hours, Carlos?" she asks, eyebrows raised.
"Not walk back to the dorm, apparently," Carlos chuckles.
Mal's lower lip juts out.
"Mal, you'll be fine," he assures, hand resting on her shoulder momentarily. "Just go on your phone or something," he offers, brown eyes leaving green to glance at the clock perched in the hallway. "See you after class!"
Mal remains in the same position, staring at the floor, for an undetermined amount of time. It is long enough that all of the students have made it to class, even the stragglers that attempted to sneak in late. It feels like an eternity, but perhaps she does have a flair for the dramatic. She probably got that from her mother. Her footsteps echo through the now empty hall as she approaches the lounge located at its end. The door is already open, as usual, so she walks right into the room and unceremoniously drops all of her weight into the most comfy looking chair. Her body sinks further into the cushions than she anticipated, and she lets out a rush of air. It does not take her long to locate the cellphone in the pocket of her favorite leather jacket, and she lets her sketchbook fall into her lap in favor of holding the device with both hands. She leisurely scrolls through social media, desperately hoping someone posted something interesting.
This isn't so bad; at least she is holed up in the only building on campus that seems to make proper use of its air conditioning. There is no way Mal is going back outside. The walk back to the dorm she shares with her friend Carlos is not too terrible-about fifteen minutes of walking or much less in a vehicle. However, she had spent no more than three minutes walking between buildings today, and she is pretty sure the sun's unforgiving rays evaporated her sweat before it even had the chance to emerge from her pores. That's how that works, isn't it? Maybe she is being dramatic...
Mal's finger taps the weather app to see how much she is exaggerating, and she is met with a much darker version of herself. "No, no, no!" Mal mutters, pressing various buttons to attempt to revive the phone. "Shit!" she whispers. She presses her hands against her face and takes a deep breath before placing the now useless device back into her jacket pocket. It's cool. No problem. She can find something else to do. It has already been - she glances up at the clock - eight minutes.
Going through the recycling only earns her a few laughs. Art students are notorious for throwing away projects they are unsatisfied with, and she is not an exception. Nothing is so terrible that she keeps it for future amusement, though. Through her rummaging she discovers a soft stick of charcoal and a mostly dead sharpie. She zips the charcoal in her pocket for safekeeping. Mal knows just what to do with the sharpie. She saunters over to the whiteboard and attempts her best depiction of a dick in the top corner. The click of the cap finding its home sounds through the small room. Mal decides now is as good of a time as any to take a bathroom break. She returns to the cushy chair and retrieves her sketchbook. There is no way she is letting that sit in the lounge unattended.
Her trip to the bathroom inspires some more shenanigans. The brilliant idea to lock all of the bathroom stall doors comes to her while she's peeing. Although it is a bit of an awkward climb over the top to get back out, Mal is pleased with her meddling when all is said and done. She washes and dries her hands, grabs her sketchbook off of the counter, and returns to the lounge.
It has been forty-two minutes since Carlos' Modern Fashion and Design class started. Mal knows this because her eyes are trained on the clock and not where she is walking. She nearly trips over her own feet when she realizes there is a blur of blue out of place in the room. Her feet quickly bring her to her usual chair, and she automatically turns to sit on it. As she quickly becomes enveloped in it she realizes perhaps a change of seating would have complimented her ego better. A chance glance towards the blue-haired girl tells her she looks as ridiculous as she feels. She buries her face in her open sketchbook to hide her pink cheeks. Soon after, she remembers that most people draw in sketchbooks, not stare at them for prolonged lengths of time. It is a book, but not a book-book. Her pale fingers find the stick of charcoal from earlier in her pockets, and green eyes bounce around searching for things to draw.
Thankfully, the blue-haired girl now seems to be entertained enough with her cellphone.
Mal does not really decide to start drawing her; it just kind of happens. She quickly sketches in the general contours of the girl's body before moving on to details. Faces are difficult, so she starts at the bottom and works her way up. She soon discovers that the girl's outfit is actually quite elaborate. It is easy to lose herself in trying to replicate the way the material folds and how the trinkets capture the light. Once she is fairly satisfied with the depiction of the girl's body she moves on to the head. Mal studies the way the girl's hair flows and the shapes contained in a fine braid near the top of blue hair. Her charcoal scratches softly against the paper as she finishes up the nose next. Mal's mouth drops open a bit while she studies the girl's enticingly red lips just a little too long. That was enough time to gauge all the details, right? She shakes her head to clear it before drawing in the lips, wishing she had a color other than black to work with. Her heart stops when her gaze flicks up to the girl's eyes only to find them already looking into hers. The heat rises in her cheeks, and she prepares to be called out for her admittedly creepy behavior.
All that comes is a knowing smile. The blue-haired girl suddenly rises, smoothing out her blue skirt. Mal's heartbeat pounds in her ears as the girl approaches her, only to abruptly take a turn and leave the lounge.
A release of somewhere between a sigh and a laugh escapes Mal's lips. She decides to finish the drawing. It is not like she could forget the intensity of the girl's unique red-brown eyes boring into hers anyway. After placing the last detail, Mal admires her work-the proportions, the detailed shading, the charcoal all over her hands...shit. She suddenly remembers why she sticks to graphite. She does not even want to think about how much time she is going to spend getting the black dust out of her jacket pocket. The offending object clatters onto the ledge of the whiteboard, and Mal grabs her sketchbook with her clean...er hand.
The bathroom door creaks a little as Mal leans her hips into it. As soon as she rounds the corner, her jaw and fingers go slack. The sound of her sketchbook smacking against the tile is painfully loud in the otherwise silent room. In hindsight, she should have noticed the blue hair first. I mean, Mal knows more than most people that bright hair colors do not exactly blend in. But can you blame her for being distracted by the two round ass cheeks unexpectedly blocking her path? The tan skin is practically glowing in the dim lighting, and Mal is a moth to the flame.
Her eyes travel down long legs to find them ending in a pile of leather and blue tulle. Oh no. As if ogling the girl with her clothes on was bad enough. Through the sudden, deafening pounding in her ears, Mal realizes the other girl had spoken to her. Green eyes race to the mirror, which ends up being a bad idea. If she thought the sight of the girl's sculpted backside was distracting, she was wholly unprepared to meet the reflection of the front of her body.
Her first attempt at a reply comes out as merely a squeak. When did her mouth get so dry? She clears her throat and tries again. "What?" she asked dumbly, unable to tear her eyes away.
"I said," the girl stresses, voice much lower and raspier than Mal would have guessed. "Take a life drawing class, and you can stare at me all you want." Red-brown eyes finally glance up and into the mirror, expecting green but finding Mal's hazy gaze lower instead.
At a soft laugh, the purple-haired girl finally registers that she has been caught, and her face goes from stark white to rosy in color.
The blue-haired girl trades a reflection for the real thing, and Mal anchors her eyes into the other girl's, where it is the least likely to get her in trouble. She feels utterly exposed even though she is fully clothed as red-brown orbs rake over her own body. She bites her lip at the scrutiny until the blue-haired girl is bending down - good lord - and retrieves the fallen sketchbook.
Instead of giving it back, the blue-haired girl takes nimble fingers and flips through it, starting from the back. Mal stammers uselessly in protest, but all she is met with is a raised eyebrow. Finally, white turns to blacks and greys as the blue-haired girl finds what she is looking for.
Mal ducks her head and scurries to the sink, giving the girl a wide berth as she passes her. Her hands burn a little as she scrubs furiously at them, trying to remove the pesky charcoal.
"The head is a little too big, and the legs are a little truncated, but those are common mistakes," the blue-haired girl assesses.
The water is staring to run more clearly under Mal's hands. She swears she is having a heart attack for the umpteenth time today as hot breath envelopes her ear.
"You're talented," it says, and Mal glances up to find the matching eyes trained on her lips. The girl is so close Mal can feel the heat radiating off of her body even through her leather jacket. "Your shading is impressive, and you have an eye for detail that most people could only wish they possessed," she continues.
"Thanks," Mal replies earnestly, turning off the water.
"No problem," the blue-haired girl replies easily, handing Mal a sheet of paper towel.
Once her hands are sufficiently dry, Mal crumples up the towel and promptly throws it in the direction of the garbage can. Incredibly, it finds its home with a satisfying swish. The corners of her lips curl upwards, and she mentally pats herself on the back for redeeming some of her cool status.
The blue-haired girl smiles at the ground before extending her sketchbook-wielding hand towards the other girl. "I'm Evie, life drawing model for the next two weeks," she introduces.
Mal's eyebrows shoot up as she limply grasps her sketchbook. Really, she should have seen that coming. "Mal," she replies.
"Woman of many talents," Evie husks, eyes boring into Mal's and red lips quirked up in a smirk.
Pink is quickly becoming a recurring color on Mal it seems.
"I'd apologize for surprising you out here, but the look on your face was definitely worth it," Evie laughs, moving to collect her clothing from the floor.
"I don't doubt that," Mal scoffs, managing to make light of her embarrassment.
"I was intending to change in the stall like a perfectly respectable woman, but they all seem to be mysteriously locked," Evie says, straightening, with her clothing in her arms.
Mal cannot help the chuckle that escapes her lips.
Evie quirks an eyebrow. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?" She inquires, looking at Mal pointedly.
"Not at all," Mal replies, still smiling.
Evie holds her gaze for a while before her eyes suddenly go wider and break the vibe. "Shit. Um, are you busy?" She asks in a slight panic.
"Not particularly," Mal replies, casually leaning against the cold wall.
"Could you go to the drawing studio and get me a robe? I totally forgot one!" Evie inquires, biting her lip.
Mal decides to spare Evie some teasing, considering she looks pretty frazzled compared to her previously composed demeanor.
"Uh, sure. I'll be right back," Mal replies quickly, offering the girl a small smile.
Her action is mirrored by Evie, who thanks her genuinely as she leaves the bathroom.
The walk to the drawing studio is not far, really only a few strides. There are already a few students in the room, preparing their easels, when Mal arrives. Looks that vary from blatant confusion and disapproval to wanting gazes are cast at the purple-haired girl, who is obviously not a regular feature of the classroom. Thankfully, she quickly locates the hangers in the back of the studio adorned with aprons, smocks, and robes. She selects the cleanest looking one and quickly makes her way out of the studio, eyes on the ground.
The bathroom door squeaks a little as she pushes it open. "Forgetting your robe -that's a total rookie move. You new to this?" she asks coolly, tossing the garment.
Evie's cheeks grow in pink color as she effortlessly catches it.
"First time in front of a class, yeah," she replies, shifting her weight to her other foot as she quickly slips the robe on and ties it.
"That implies you've done it outside of a class," Mal states rather than asks. To that, Evie's confidence returns.
"Once or twice," she rasps, smirking.
Mal cannot resist letting her mind wander.
"I tell you what," Evie starts, stepping even closer to the purple-haired girl. "If you watch my clothes for me while I'm in class for the next couple weeks I'll give you a private session for free," she finishes, red-brown eyes challenging green.
Mal nearly chokes on absolutely nothing. It takes her mind a few moments to register that Evie is talking about a life drawing session, but the idea remains tempting.
"It's just that most of my clothes are custom made, and I've had things stolen before" Evie adds, fluttering her eyelashes, which Mal now realizes are blue like the girl's hair.
"Uh yeah-sure-no problem", Mal stammers to Evie's lips, which are now so close that she can faintly smell the gloss. Apple cinnamon, if her nose does not deceive her. She wonders if it tastes as good as it smells...
"Thank you so much; you're a life-saver!" Evie replies with a blinding smile. Before Mal knows it, she is being enveloped in a hug. She is not sure she is thankful or disappointed that Evie is now wearing the robe. "I'll see you in two hours!" she calls back, hurrying out of the bathroom. The bang of the door closing echoes across the walls.
Mal stands there for a moment, holding the pile of clothes and staring at the door. Then she reluctantly makes her way back to the lounge. The halls are much busier now, and students scurry to and from various classrooms. She is nearly to the lounge when a hand on her shoulder stops her in her tracks.
"You lived!" Carlos exclaims triumphantly. Mal rolls her eyes, but a smile escapes nonetheless. "Find something to entertain yourself with?" he asks innocently, eying the clothing in her hands with confusion.
Mal's cheeks darken, and her smile morphs into a smirk. "You could say that," she replies.
"Ready to go home?" he inquires, eyebrows lifted.
To that, Mal's face becomes regretful. "Uh, I actually have something to do now, but I'll be home in a couple hours," she says hesitantly.
To say Carlos is surprised would be an understatement. "Are you kidding me?" he asks pointedly. The look on Mal's face tells him she is not. "Alright," he sighs "have fun 'melting' on the walk home," he finishes, emphasizing her previous words with air quotes.
Mal groans as Carlos begins the descent down the stairwell. Her feet shuffle against the tile as she makes her way to the comfy chair in the lounge.
To pass the time, Mal replays her afternoon in her head. As she recalls Evie's last words to her she realizes what she has gotten herself into. Two hours. Two more hours of complete and utter boredom. She sighs dramatically and gazes down at the clothes. The edge of a lace bra, the same shade as Evie's hair, pokes out of the mess. Well, it is not so bad, she concludes.
Before long, the comfort of the chair and the exhaustion of the day become too much for Mal. Her head becomes heavy and her eyelids fall closed. It feels as though no time at all has passed when her peaceful quiet is suddenly interrupted.
"Mal, wake up!"
Red-brown eyes are gazing into hers with a tint of amusement.
"Hey, sleeping beauty," Evie greets with a smile. Mal sits there, cheeks flushed and mouth agape.
She takes in the other girl's appearance, composed and fully clothed.
"Thank you for watching my stuff for me, although I don't know how efficient a guard is while they're sleeping," she says with a smirk.
"People generally stay away from me," Mal answers, voice still gravelly from sleep. Evie looks unconvinced. "They're scared," the artist elaborates.
"Mm," Evie hums with a nod. "You know what scares me?" she asks quietly, features expressionless.
"What?" Mal asks, genuinely wondering.
"That" Evie whispers, eyes flicking to Mal's doodle on the chalkboard from earlier.
The artist follows her gaze.
Evie's façade cracks as soon as Mal barks out a laugh. Even as the laughter in the room dies out, smiles remain. "So, I'll see you on Wednesday then?" Evie asks, biting her lip despite herself.
Mal's smile grows even wider at the prospect of the model being even a little nervous around her. "Of course," she replies easily.
As soon as the door is unlocked, Mal stumbles through it and collapses onto the floor. It is strikingly cold in comparison to the air, but that is just what she needs. Her eyes close and her chest rises and falls, attempting to gather as much cool air as possible. If her muscles were not so exhausted, she would peel off her now-soaked clothes and lay there naked, not caring if Carlos was home. But as Mal lays on the floor, in desperate need of a shower and a nap, she cannot help but think back on her day. It ended up being pretty great.