A/n: Omg! Chapter 4 is finally up, after like, 2 freakin' months!! Sorry about the long wait. For some reason, I have a lot of confidence issues with this story, even though I'm getting a lot of reviews. I dunno. Anyways. Oh, I know time has been passing rather slowly. I start skipping days in the next chapter, instead of going over every day in detail. Sorry if that's been annoying... Oh, and also sorry that this chapter is a little short. Ok, on to the story!

Artist's Alley
by: roses.red

Chapter 4:

Do you want to know what's worse than living in a new city with a complete stranger who acts like a total jerk to you, and who won't even let you contact your parents to let them know you're alright until you paint a picture that he considers decent? Realizing your second day there that you forgot to bring any clothes except what you have on your back, and you don't have enough money to buy any more.

Do you know what's even worse than that? Being told by the person you're living with that only are you not allowed to contact your parents, but he's not going to buy you any clothes until you paint a decent picture, so you have to wear his clothes. I mean, I probably wouldn't mind if it was a woman, but there's just something about wearing a man's clothes that bothers me.

Anyway, as you've probably already guessed, that is exactly what happened to me. After Deidara left me in my room that first day, I suddenly felt very exhausted and just collapsed on the bed in my clothes and passed out. By the time I woke up the next day it was almost noon (I have this really bad habit of sleeping in late), and Deidara was already at school. The first thing I thought of was how worried my parents must be, and I decided, scared as I was at what would happen if I got found out, to use the opportunity of Deidara not being there to sneak into his room and use his computer. Unfortunately, he had made it password protected, and I'm far from being a hacker, so it was a fruitless effort.

I could have just used the phone (which was easily accessible), but my mom has this thing about phones. See, one time about three years ago, our phone bill was really high, about twice as high as usual. My mom insisted the phone company had overcharged us, although I'm pretty sure it had something to do with the fact that she kept calling my aunt, who was in France at the time, and talking to her for hours at a time. But, my mom stubbornly maintained that the phone company was at fault, and ever since then, she's refused to pay for us to have a phone.

After my useless attempt at contacting my parents, I went back to my room to change into fresh clothes. It was then that I discovered the only things I had packed in my bag were art supplies.

"Crap," I muttered, dumping out the contents and shuffling through them again, as if clothes would magically appear. Art supplies, art supplies, art supplies, but no clothes. What the hell had I been thinking? Or rather, the problem was that I hadn't been thinking. I'm an idiot.

"Great," I said. I couldn't wait to tell Deidara about this. He would definitely get a kick out of it.

When Deidara got home that afternoon, I told him of my dilemma, and as expected, a smirk spread across his face. "You really are an idiot, aren't you, un?" he said.

"Oh, sh-shut up," I mumbled, blushing as always and staring at the floor.

"Well, I'll buy you some new clothes, un," he said.

I looked up at him in surprise. Was he actually being nice to me? "You will?" I asked.

His grin widened. Uh-oh… "Of course, un," he said. "After you paint me a good picture."

I should have known. "But, that could take months!"

"Then I guess you'd better get started, hmm?"

"What am I supposed to do? Just wear the same clothes until then?" I demanded.

He shrugged. "I'll give you some of mine, un. I don't want you smelling up my house, after all."

Gee, thanks. Wait a minute. "You're clothes? But, but, I mean, you're—you're a guy!"

Deidara smiled at me, raising an eyebrow. "In that case, would you rather just take all your clothes off everyday so you can wash them? I certainly wouldn't mind, un."

I think my entire body must have turned scarlet. "Y-yeah, right!" I cried. "I-I would wear the same clothes for a hundred years before I would do something like that for you!"

He shrugged. "Too bad, un," he said. His eyes were sparkling with laughter.

I scrunched up my lips angrily, but I couldn't think of anything to say, so I turned and ran to my room, slamming the door shut behind me and leaning against it. I was so embarrassed, I could have died. He had imagined me naked! He had to have! I shut my eyes tightly. I hated him, I hated him, I hated him! And yet, for some reason, the thought that he wanted to see me naked made me kind of happy. My face reddened again. No! No, no, no! Absolutely no thoughts like that! There was no way I could like Deidara! Besides, he had probably just said that because he knew it would embarrass me. It wasn't unlike him. I moaned and hid my face in my hands, sliding down onto the floor. I really hated this.

About half an hour later, Deidara brought me a stack of his clothes. I could tell when he looked at me that he was still laughing about before. I snatched the clothes from him angrily and shut the door in his face, locking it so he couldn't come in and bother me anymore. I could hear him chuckling to himself as he walked away.

I whipped around and walked to the bed, pulling the easel out from underneath it and setting it up. My decision was made. I was going to do this stupid painting as fast as possible so he wouldn't be able to torment me anymore (although thinking about it now, that really wouldn't have stopped him from tormenting me). Unfortunately, by the time I was about halfway finished, I'd lost most of my resolve. As always, my painting looked like something a five year old had done.

Why couldn't I even manage to draw something like flowers? I mean, I had seen plenty of girls who weren't even interested in art just doodling these really pretty flowers on their papers during class, with no trouble whatsoever. But could I do that? No, of course not. The aspiring artist definitely couldn't draw something that any girl her age, and younger, could. I finished the painting rather half-heartedly, and waited around for Deidara to come back, which I was sure he would eventually.

When Deidara knocked on my door to let me know dinner was ready, I opened the door and dejectedly handed him the painting, already knowing what he would say.

He glanced at it for all of two seconds and handed it back. "It's terrible, un."

I pursed my lips. Why did he always have to be so insensitive? I was already upset enough as it was. "Yeah, yeah," I said, taking the painting back. "I'll eat dinner later. I'm not really hungry right now."

Deidara leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. "I might eat it all, un," he said tauntingly.

I glared at him and shut the door in his face again. I just didn't feel like dealing with him right then. Sighing, I dropped the painting on the floor and sat on my bed, staring at the wall. After a moment, I shook my head, trying to clear it. There was no time to be getting all depressed; that had never helped me in the past, and it certainly wasn't going to help me now. Clapping my hands together, I jumped up from the bed and went back to the easel, picking up my pencil to start a new outline. I was just going to have to prove to Deidara (and myself) that I was capable of painting a decent picture, even if it took me the rest of the year! After all, you know what they say: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. And that was exactly what I intended to do.

Now, if only strong resolve could really carry people as far as it always seems to in the movies. But of course, that would have made life far too easy for me.

A/n: So, re-reading this story, I realized that Kaya freaks out about a stuff waaay too much. She's even worse than me, which is saying something. I also realized that I pretty much never use her name. I actually forgot what it was the other day, and I had to go look it up. How sad is that?