3
After a couple of hours, Jane had managed to complete the sketching, shading, and much of the coloring. All she needed to do now was fine-tune the details. She and Quinn had exchanged some meager small talk. ("Isn't this weird?" "Yeah." "Wonder what Daria would say!" "I'd rather not know." "You're not showing this to people, are you?" "Probably not." "What?" "Sit still.") But Quinn fell into what seemed to be a pensive stillness, and for those few hours, the silence remained uninterrupted, and the air was filled with nothing but light strokes against the canvas. Jane found that the one-on-one atmosphere helped her concentrate. It let her become completely absorbed in what she was doing.
"Break time?" asked Jane. Quinn nodded gratefully. She stretched her limbs and rose slowly, shyly hugging herself as she sat upright.
"Strange time to be modest," Jane said, taking a sip from a water bottle she had kept nearby. Quinn blushed.
"Well, if I sit up like this… I don't want to look chubby, you know?" Jane's hand flew to her face as she shook her head.
"Quinn. I just spent two hours drawing you. You are not chubby. And even if you were a little, don't you get sick of sounding so superficial all the time? Who cares if you are? You'd still look great." She wanted to slap her self once the sentence had ended. Quinn smiled, and slowly withdrew her arms.
"Really?" she asked. Jane rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, and you know it. So please, don't go on about it. I'm not the Fashion Club, and I'm not playing into it." Quinn nodded.
"Ok, whatever."
"Water?" Jane offered, grabbing the extra one she brought. Quinn nodded. Jane averted her eyes as she bent down to grab a blanket from the floor, and draped herself in it before walking over to Jane.
"So you really wanted those platforms bad enough to let me, of all people, draw you naked?" Jane asked, still a little incredulous at the fact.
"I didn't plan to or anything, but I saw the ad in the paper, and I recognized your house number… I mean I would never, ever do anything like this normally, but as weird as you are – er, I mean, well… as different as we are, I knew I could at least trust you to not be weird! And if you ever have to use the picture somewhere, you could just change my face, right?" Quinn looked genuinely worried.
"I didn't know you were that reserved," Jane admitted.
"Oh, I mean sure I've always wanted to model, but in the nude? Totally weird, I would never! I mean, not for strangers to see anyway, obviously." She giggled and took another sip of water.
"Yeah, I'll figure something out if I ever want it out there or something. Probably won't though. I'm not exactly itching to get my work into the art world just yet."
Quinn smiled, looking relieved. "Well… I should be getting home soon, so maybe we should finish it up?"
"Sounds good."
Quinn let her blanket fall as she walked back towards the bed, and Jane had to try very hard not to think about what the sight of Quinn from behind was doing to her.
4
"All done," Jane said, stepping back and giving her work a pleased overview. Yes, each last detail had been finely tweaked. The shadow underneath her bottom lip, which seemed to be in a perpetual pout, was perfect. Both the highness and fullness of her cheek was captured accurately, and her eyes, with their odd mix of vacancy and cleverness, stared back at Jane as if from a photograph.
"Great! I can't wait to see it," Quinn gushed. She quickly put on her clothes while Jane averted her gaze, beginning to put away her supplies. Quinn bounced over excitedly.
She stared at the picture for a few moments without saying anything.
"Wow," she said. "I thought you were going to do something all creepy and Picasso-like, but this is really amazing."
Jane blushed. She ran her hand through her dark hair and shrugged modestly.
"Thanks."
"I mean really," Quinn continued, "I look great!"
"I am a very talented artist," Jane quipped.
"Ew!" Quinn exclaimed with a pout, folding her arms.
Jane reached in her back pocket where she had a couple of folded bills stuffed.
"Here's your payment," she said, handing Quinn the money. Quinn paused before taking it, looking as though she were about to say something, but then accepted it silently.
"Rethinking those platforms?" Jane asked.
"No. I think I just feel weird being paid by you," Quinn said,
"Honest work deserves honest pay. Don't worry about it. Besides, feels good to actually earn something for once, doesn't it?" Quinn opened her mouth to protest, but then thought better of it.
"I guess this is a first," she said. "And I didn't even have to work in some icky retail store, helping people with no fashion sense!"
"Looks like fate is on your side."
"Yeah, I guess," Quinn said, giggling. "Well anyway! I should probably head home now."
"Yeah," Jane agreed, although she was a little hesitant to let her go, only because she knew that once she was alone, her suppressed thoughts were going to spring up, forcing her to confront things she felt too weak to confront.
They headed downstairs, and heard the sound of lightly strummed repetitive chords coming from a guitar, accompanied by Trent's singing. He stopped when he saw them.
"You didn't get sick from those pop tarts?" Jane asked. Trent blinked as he tried to recall what she was referring to.
"A little queasy." Quinn wrinkled her nose in disgust at the memory.
"Alright, well… I'll see you later," she said to Jane.
"Yeah. See ya."
"Bye Daria's sister," Trent called. Jane closed the door behind Quinn, and leaned back against it, looking upwards. There was no running from it now.
What, she thought, just happened?
