1
"So, explain to me again why you can't just go to a local college and attend one of their nude model sessions?" asked Daria, before diving into another slice of pizza. Jane sighed, unsure of how to explain it further.
"I can. I just want a more… intimate setting," she replied. Daria cocked an eyebrow, smirking as she chewed.
"So this is some kind of date as well?" Jane groaned.
"No! I just want to see if it has any effect on my work. I've never drawn a portrait of someone in an isolated setting, much less a nude portrait. It's an artistic experiment Daria, not a singles ad."
"Right. Good luck," Daria said, earnestly.
"Thanks." Jane couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. It was just weird having a total stranger come to your house and sit in your room, naked, just so you could explore your artistic terrain. And she hadn't put any sort of preference regarding gender or body type in her ad, so it could literally be anyone. In hindsight, she was worried she should have specified female. Perhaps depending on Trent for safety wasn't the wisest choice. But she hadn't wanted to hinder herself artistically… Images of a deranged, naked lunatic wielding a machete deluged her brain, until she heard Daria's voice sharply cutting through.
"Jane? Jane. Jane."
"What? Oh! Damn, sorry. Spaced out."
"Yeah, I can tell. What time is your little tryst anyway?" Jane looked at her watch. It was 5:30. She was expecting the model at 6:15.
"We have 45 minutes. I guess we should pay in a bit. I want to set up some stuff before they arrive."
"Alright," said Daria, reaching into her book bag for her wallet. As she opened it and began rifling through her money, a look of utter dismay spread across her face.
"Oh damn it. Do you think you could spot me a few bucks?" Her lips were pursed in anger.
"Sure. Why do you look so pissed?"
"My sister is an obnoxious brat. She's been going on and on about these new platforms she wants, that she just had to have by this weekend because she has a date. And that explains where my ten went."
"Oh, wow. She's a sneaky one," Jane said, grinning.
"Yes, let's commend her for her stealth," Daria snapped.
"I assume you'll be exacting quick and painful revenge?" Jane asked, sliding out of the booth.
"As always."
The walk home was quick, as usual. They parted at Jane's house, where they made plans for a movie the next day, and Daria wished Jane luck once more.
2
Jane had stripped the bed of everything except for the brick colored sheet, which she thought would be a complimentary color to any skin tone. She got her canvas set, as well as all the various shades of paint she would potentially need. After it was all ready, she headed downstairs to wait for the mystery model.
Trent was milling around the kitchen, opening the fridge every few minutes in the hopes that something tasty had magically materialized on one of the shelves.
"Hey Janey," he said. His voice, in its usual calm and throaty tone, calmed Jane's nerves a bit.
"Yo." She sat at the table, and slid down in her seat, propping her feet up on the tabletop. She checked her watch. 6:10
"Do me a favor?" she asked.
"Um…" Trent's head was halfway in a cabinet, checking it's cobwebbed corners. He removed his head, swiped at the dust on his face, exhaled slowly, and accepted his defeat.
"What's up?"
"The model is coming over, an-"
"Whoa, model?" Trent's eyes widened.
"The nude model Trent. For my art? Not a super model."
"Oh yeah." Trent reverted back to his bored demeanor, showing no sign of disappointment.
"Yeah. Well, can you just do me a favor and look out the window? If you see someone coming to our house, just tell me what they look like? If they look at all dangerous… We can just not answer the door."
Trent shrugged. "Sure thing, Janey." He ambled towards the window and peered through.
"Hmm… no one yet… Oh. There's someone."
"What? Shit. Quick, what are they like?"
"It's Mrs. Wakefield, from across the street." Jane bit her tongue before something caustic came out.
"A stranger, Trent."
"Girl walking down the block," he announced.
"Hm… Okay, could be her. What does she look like?"
Trent squinted. "Uh… normal? Girly looking. Kinda familiar… Whoa, she's walking to our porch." He retreated quickly, as if the girl had caught him spying.
"Crap. Okay. Alright, this is good. Girly looking girls are never dangerous," Jane stated, trying to shake off all her anxiety. She walked over to the door, took a deep breath, and flung it open.
A second passed. Then two. Maybe three. Jane couldn't believe what she was seeing.
"Uh…" Jane's previous anxieties had been usurped by an entirely new set of fears, only this time, they were all too real. Now she had to ask her self, what was more horrifying? Unhinged stranger? Or Daria's sister, Quinn, standing in front of her, a mirror image of her shock, for the sole purpose of undressing and letting Jane delineate her naked body on a canvas.
Quinn gave a sheepish smile.
"Why… Okay. Wait. What the hell is happening right now?" Quinn gave an exasperated sigh.
"Look. I just needed some money. I saw the ad in the paper. Easy buck, right? And it's for art! Easy and classy. And I know you, you're not a stranger, so it wouldn't be some pervert or something, and I knew if asked you, you would say no, but now you can't say no, I mean I'm already here, so please?"
Something clicked in Jane's brain, and she couldn't help but chuckle a little at the comedy of the timing.
"So my payment is going to help you finally snag those platforms, eh?" Quinn bridled.
"How did you know about that?"
"I had to spot your sister for pizza. Seems her ten had mysteriously vanished from her wallet." Quinn flung her hands up dramatically.
"Okay, fine! So I wanted a pair of shoes, hasn't there been anything you wanted bad enough you would do anything to pay for? It was a labor of love, my love of fashion! Besides, I don't even need her money anymore. This will cover it."
"Look. Whatever. Obviously this can't happen, it's just too weird. I know I let you stay here once before, but that was different. You'll have to find someone else," Jane said. Quinn's face fell.
"Nooo! Look, I won't tell anyone, and you won't! Hell, this date tomorrow will probably be worse than this. Just please, let's do it, okay? I've come too far!"
Jane chewed her lip, feeling torn. On one hand, yes, it was quite weird, not to mention the fact she and Quinn weren't exactly friendly to begin with. On the other, she did get lucky with not getting someone insane, and she really had wanted to commit to this vision. She felt the urge to not let the opportunity go to waste.
"Alright," she finally said. "Come in."
"Thanks! Don't worry, no one will find out. Like I'd want anyone to know I was with you on a Friday night anyway," Quinn said, following it with an oblivious giggle.
"Keep that up, and I can find a new model like that," Jane said, snapping her fingers for effect. It wasn't true, and she wasn't particularly hurt, but she didn't enjoy letting Quinn get away with such snobbery.
"Sorry."
"Hey," said Trent, remerging from the kitchen. He was munching on a pop tart.
"Where the hell did you find that?" asked Jane.
"My secret cupboard compartment."
"Uh…"
"I totally forgot about it. Hid these there when I was thirteen."
Jane grimaced, and Quinn let out a long, drawn out "Ewwwwwwwww!"
"My thoughts exactly," said Jane. "I want to know nothing more about it. We're going to go upstairs now. Obviously if you need me, knock. And only if it's an emergency."
"Yup." Trent headed into the living room so he could enjoy the bliss of his stale pop tart in the luxury of his couch.
Jane jogged up the stairs, with Quinn following closely behind, trying to quell all thoughts of how utterly surreal this whole scenario was. Last time Quinn was here, she just needed a place to stay. She drove her crazy, but it was fine. But this?
Why do I do things I know I'll probably end up regretting, she thought.
Quinn wrinkled her nose as she entered Jane's room, appraising her surroundings.
"Looks the same as last time," she commented.
"Things don't change much around here." They both stood there for a few seconds, until Quinn broke the silence.
"So are you going to, like, turn away or something?"
"Oh! Uh. Well... I mean there's no purpose but yeah, sure." Jane turned around, and heard the sound of Quinn's clothing sliding off her body. For some reason, she felt very nervous. What would it be like to see someone naked that you knew? Would it change them forever afterwards? Would it make them act different? Would it not matter at all, and was she just being overly dramatic?
…What would she look like?
Jane found that this last thought made her ache a bit inside, but not in an entirely unpleasant way.
"Done!" announced Quinn, cheerily.
Instead of turning, Jane headed towards her supplies, checking her work area once more.
"Sit on the bed, I'll position you in a sec." She stared at her supplies, knowing there was no point in checking them; she had meticulously gone through everything before Quinn's arrival. Alright. Turn around.
Quinn's body was not exactly a surprise. Her normal outfits hinted at a petite, lithe body. But what clothes didn't hint at was the outline of her body as she lay on her side; one long, graceful line, starting at the tiny, steep hill from heel into ankle, lazily tracing long, thin limbs, rising at an accentuated hip, and plunging devilishly in to a nominal waist, only to inch its way back up to reveal small, full breasts. What clothes didn't hint at was how her red hair would look like flames against the paleness of her naked body, illuminated by the dark red of the sheet, and what clothes could never have hinted at was the foreign sensation that had invaded Jane's body, like some kind of virus with all new symptoms, none that she could identify.
"Should I just stay like this?" Quinn asked. Jane eyes darted towards her face, noticing her palm pressed into her flushed cheek.
"Um…" Jane began, trying to force herself to think in a more art-oriented fashion. "You're going to get uncomfortable like that. Why not prop up some pillows, they're by the floor over there, and lean against them?" As Quinn did so, Jane felt guilty for not just going there by herself and helping her. But she did not want to explore the effects of having viewed Quinn naked further, and decided that this distance was manageable, doable, and she wouldn't push it.
Quinn leaned against the pillows, still on her left side, but sitting more upright. Her left arm was draped over the pillows as if they were the arm of a couch, and her right lay across the outline of her body, hand gently clasping her thigh.
"Cool," Jane croaked, feeling lame. "Looks good."
"Thanks," Quinn chirped. Jane inhaled slowly, cleared her mind (as best she could), and began to sketch.