Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“No one,” I assure him, suddenly adopting a sweet and calm demeanor. “Everything’s totally okay. Thanks again for these.” I give his bouquet another sniff.
He gently nudges them out of the way and brings his face close. “What’s wrong? Are you in danger? Is it some bully from one of your art classes who’s here to harass you at your show?”
My lips part, speechless. Wow, his head is so far in the wrong direction.
“Because I know I should act a certain way at an event like this, dressed as snazzy as I am,” he says, “but I’m not above clocking a dude in the face if you want me to.”
“No, no, it’s not that.”
“Is it a jealous ex-boyfriend? Should I be worried? He did look a bit old,” he suddenly realizes, working it over in his head.
I put a hand on Adrian’s chest, focusing him. “It’s not an ex-boyfriend or a bully from school.”
“Then who is it?”
I part my lips to speak.
Then I spot my dad over Adrian’s shoulder yet again. He’s still looking for me, his eyebrows pulled together as he looks one way, then the other.
I grab Adrian’s hand. “We’ve gotta be stealthier.”
“We’re running again …??”
I take him across the room without another word. He nearly trips as he tries to keep up with me, now and then asking me where we’re going. I don’t have an answer for him other than as far away from my dad as possible, which I of course don’t say. I weave my way through a crowd and find a spot behind another display of sculptures, hoping the odd lighting and crazy shapes will provide enough shield between me and my dad.
Adrian is on me more passionately now. “Who is it?”
“My dad,” I finally confess.
“Oh … I see.” He nods with understanding. “So you’re not ready yet to have the talk.”
“Nope, definitely not ready.”
He eyes me. “And … what will your talk entail …?”
I look at him. He’s fishing because I haven’t told him what my choice is yet.
“Oh, Mr. Ruiz.”
I flinch, startled by the sudden voice in my ear. When I turn, I find the stiff figure of Professor Lawrence standing next to me, a tightened smile on his face. I think it’s his way of being pleasant at a social art event. It’s certainly not an expression I’m used to seeing on him.
“Professor,” I greet him uncertainly.
“Lovely to see you finally. I’ve been looking around for you.” He seems to notice Adrian for the first time. “Oh, is this your inspiration for your series? Yes, I recognize him right away.”
Adrian, who was still hanging on my words, now shifts gears. “Hi, sir. Nice to meet you. I’m Adrian.”
“The pleasure’s mine.” He faces me again. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something rather important. I thought it could wait until class on Monday, but I think it can’t, as I heard something rather unsettling from a fellow classmate of yours, Vann Pane. Is it true that you recently considered dropping out of the program?”
I stare at him in shock. Where do I even begin? Vann spoke to him? How much did he tell him? “Sir, I—”
“I hope my criticism didn’t affect you too deeply,” he goes on. “I did not mean to discourage you. I remember my rather … brash comments about your ‘pretty sunsets’ and selling them to shopping malls … or whatever silly thing I said, I don’t remember the words. But I want to impress upon you that there is no shame in being that kind of an artist, either, so long as your soul is still fulfilled. We can’t make art if we can’t pay for food.” He puts on a smile and leans in. “And from what I’ve seen of your work, Mr. Ruiz, you have nothing to worry about in terms of creating visions that are both sellable and provoking. I rarely say this, but I may have been wrong about you. A true artist, you may be. Fraud, you certainly are not.”
I expected a dozen other things he could’ve said to me just now. This doesn’t even make the list. “Thank you, sir.”
“That isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I wanted to take you to my office and discuss scholarship opportunities. I don’t think you’ve utilized the full extent of our financial aid programs, nor our other scholarships that are available to promising young talent such as yours.” He gives me a look. “There should be nothing holding back your dreams, Mr. Ruiz. Ask for help, you will receive it. I want you to succeed.”
When I feel Adrian rub my back encouragingly, I come out of my daze. “Th-Thank you again, sir. This means a lot to me, really, it does.”
“Good. Then you’ll come to my office Monday? After class is possible for you?”