Ch. 12: Replacements

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I don't know how, but the art teacher found out that I model and decided to enlist me for a project for her juniors and seniors. I guess it will help with brownie points among the staff, but that won't help until I'm filling out college applications.

"Miss Hunter, right?"

"Yes. That's me! Uh..."

"Miss Myles..." She shakes my hand, the artsy redhead smiling at me through her blue framed glasses. "It's lovely to meet you!"

She starts to lead me towards the back of the art room, where all the pottery tables and canvas stands are. A group of older students sit together, all talking or doing their own thing as we walk in. My eyes widen as I spot Samara, her face stoic as she sits in the back with her headphones over her ears.

"Okay! Class!" Everyone settles down, looking up towards us while she lets out a giggle. "Today I have an assistant who will model for us..."

I nod towards the class, a small smile on my lips as I clear my throat. Samara gives me a look, as if silently asking me what I'm doing here from her spot. She does seem happy to see me, just confused.

"It will be this weeks assignment and I expect a valiant effort!"

They all sit in the circle of desks, pulling out sketch books and pencils as Miss Myles directs me towards the center. A stool is sat in the middle, making me sigh as she gestures for me sit down. I hop up, folding my hands over my thighs while crossing my legs. Miss Myles smiles before pushing my head up and towards the side, positioning me the way she wants.

I end up making eye contact with a handsome junior, holding in my nerves as he studies my features. I sigh, looking down as I hold the position.

——

An hour later, Samara and I are walking out of the classroom together. I've been noticing a lot more looks from people when it's just us two. My guess it's because of our completely different styles. Today's a great example of that.

I'm wearing pink overalls with a white t-shirt underneath, my white sneakers looking pristine under the school's overhead lights. Samara on the other hand, is wearing her classic grunge. A large 'nine inch nails' T-shirt with a long sleeve shirt underneath, black jeans, and here block choker is all that people see as we walk past.

"I didn't know you were in that class.."

"I didn't know you modeled!"

We get to my locker, it being way closer than her's. I unlock it, grabbing out my books and bag for my next class. Since I missed breakfast, I grab my emergency granola bar out.

"Yeah...I don't talk about it that much."

"Is that why you left? Because of the modeling?"

"Yep...."

"Excuse me..."

Samara and I both turn, our eyes wide as we see the cute brunette junior before us. I smile in greeting, happy that I didn't start eating my granola bar yet.

"Yes?"

"Uh...I just wanted to show you the finish product?"

He holds open his sketch book, offering a small smile as I gasp. The page holds a beautiful rendition of my face. Almost as if it was a picture from my portfolio.

"That's beautiful...."

At my breathless voice, Samara glances over my shoulder. Her eyes widen as she sees the realistic complexion and jawline, the eyebrow shape and the tilting of my head. Everything down to the look in my eyes is the same, even the scar from when Shawn tripped me at the rodeo grounds our dad was working at when we lived in Oklahoma.

Stacy Hunter -BMWΌπου ζουν οι ιστορίες. Ανακάλυψε τώρα