“Can I see it?” She isn't really asking, just like she isn't really waiting for an answer. Sandy opens the front cover and starts to thumb through it.
“Um. . .” My mouth wrinkles, unsure why she has this sudden interest in my art. “Sure.” Warily, I let my arms go limp as her eyes are in my folder.
I'm not going to fight her over it, not here, and not right now. The sooner she's done with whatever game she wants to play, the sooner I can get into the job fair. I have a goal, and I'm not going to let her get to me right now.
She flips through each page, one at a time, her eyes growing bright as she looks over my art. “You did all these?” She sounds surprised.
“Uh, yeah, I did.” Picking at my nails, I actually feel super nervous that she's looking at my stuff. She always has something to say, and it's never nice.
Her eyes jump up to mine, and her brows arch high. “These are really good, Dalia, like really, really good.”
Opening my eyes wide in surprise, I ask, “You think so?”
“Yeah, I actually do, they're incredible.” She's still flipping pages, her fingertips tracing thick lines, and sweeping over curves and around the sharp edge of the portrait she's open to.
“Thank you.”
Sandy closes the cover and hands me back the folder, then holds up a thoughtful finger. “Hey, would you be willing to look over my stuff, and maybe give me some tips? I mean, your art is so much better than mine. I would really appreciate it.”
Is she serious right now?
I stand stunned for a second, not sure how to answer. Sandy doesn't have a nice bone in her body. She's always treated me like shit. For her to ask for my help is sending up all kinds of red flags. This isn't who she is.
She smiles at me, her brows bouncing and head bobbing for me to say yes. “Please, I could really use some advice from someone with your eye and talent.”
That's the most genuine I've ever heard her. She's always so cruel, her voice always on the edge of annoyance. But the look in her eyes is so believable, I can't say no.
“Wow, yeah, I—”
“Can't,” Kira answers for me, her tone dry and wary. “Dalia really should get going. Right, Dalia? You wanted to get to the job fair early, isn't that what you said?” she asks me, tugging on my arm, and trying to pull me toward the double doors.
Sandy cocks her head and grabs my other arm to pull me back. “I think she has time. The job fair isn't going anywhere, and I have my portfolio right here.” Tugging a black folder from her bag, she pushes it in my direction.
Kira's eyes sharpen, filling with agitation. She's standing beside me, her gaze fixed on Sandy. I can feel the tension coming off her, and I just want to keep things calm.
“It's fine, really. I've got a few minutes.” Kira rolls her eyes, dropping her arms to her side and twisting away. I just want to keep the peace. “Here, let me see.” Taking her portfolio, I flip through the pictures.
They're not bad, they're really not. I can see a few areas where she should clean up some lines. The detailing is good, but sometimes she goes overboard and creates a puddle of mess.
But I'm not sure how to criticize them without hurting her feelings, or how to give her pointers without insulting her.
What do I tell her? How do I say it without making her mad, or upsetting her?
So, I do my best to point out all the stuff I love about her pictures, then softly suggest a few things. Sandy's listening, she looks like she's taking mental notes as she nods and agrees with what I'm saying.
Closing her folder, I hand it back. Kira forces a fake smile and takes my arm again. “All right, time to go.” She starts to pull me again, but Sandy stops her.
“Wait, Dalia, let me pay you back for your advice. I can give you a hand with your hair and makeup?”
Style has always been an area I lack. My makeup is subpar, and my hair is either down or in a ponytail, nothing fancy.
Running my fingers through my hair, my eyes dart to Kira who is shaking her head no lightly. I know she hates Sandy, and she has good reason. We all have a good reason for hating Sandy Vox.
Except, this is a side of Sandy I've never seen before. She's actually being. . . nice. My walls are down, she isn't giving me a reason to throw them up. Maybe things will be different between us now that we share this thing, this love of art.
“I'll meet you inside,” I say to Kira and give her a smile.
She doesn't like my answer, flaring her nostrils and grinding her jaw. “I think—”
“I think you should let her make her own decision. Besides, I'm just going to freshen her up some, that's all.” Sandy pulls me back into the bathroom.
Looking back over my shoulder, the last thing I see before the door closes is Kira with a frown on her face. I don't want her to feel bad about this. She doesn't need to.
People can change, even her.
Sandy catches me looking back, and giggles. “Don't worry, she'll be fine without you for a few minutes.” Pulling the portfolio out from under my arm, she sets both of ours down on the sink. “Stand here.” Moving me by the shoulders, she looks me up and down.
“Well?” I ask, running my fingers through my hair again. “What do you think?”
“I think we're going to make you drop jaws to the floor out there.”
“Really?”
“Fuck yeah, are you kidding me?” Slipping her sweater off, she lays it over a stall door, and sets her bag on one of the sinks. “I mean look at you. You really should
