Flatmates (Life in the Brohouse Book 3) by Carmen Black

Author:Carmen Black [Black, Carmen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scarlet Lantern Publishing
Published: 2021-07-22T16:00:00+00:00

14

HUNTER

I stare at the basket of fruit in front of me. The room is small with no windows. Drawings hang on the pristine white walls, watching me as I press my pencil against the paper. I bite my tongue, trying to concentrate as I make a line, frowning when the line isn’t what I intended. I glance to the elderly woman sitting on my right. Her wrinkle veiny hands move precisely as if she’s done this before. One strand of her grey hair hangs over her face.

My frown deepens when I see that her basket of fruit is pretty much an exact copy of the objects before us. The woman’s eyes lift, and she frowns at me, moving her drawing away from my prying gaze. I sigh and turn back to my own drawing, scowling at the shaky line. I have no clue where to start. Looking around, I see the others are drawing easily while the instructor walks around, nodding approvingly. She points randomly at someone’s paper, smiling as if the guy has drawn the most extravagant thing in the world and not a basket of fruit.

I press my pencil against the sheet once more, knowing I need to have at least something for her to look at. I get to work, starting with the apple. I draw a circle, but realize that’s all wrong. The apple isn’t necessarily a complete circle. More like tooth shaped. I try to erase my lines, but they’re still there, just faded, staring back at me. I try again, but my lines aren’t right.

Fuck it. Apple done. What’s next?

I move onto the banana, which is, unfortunately, positioned in front of the apple. My lines cross as I draw the curved oval. I’m not in the mood to start all over and the instructor is about three people down. I move onto the grapes, drawing several weird little circles that look nothing like the green fruit before me.

How the hell does anyone draw this shit?

Isn’t this supposed to be one of the easiest things in the world?

“Mr. Smith.”

I still when I hear my name, slowly peering up and offering a nervous smile. “Umm, I’m not done,” I say, not even wanting to look at my shitty drawing.

She smiles brightly and nods. “It looks good.”

She’s a fucking liar.

“Umm, thank you,” I say while turning back to my paper, staring down at the dark lines that remind me of a kindergartener’s work.

“Keep up the good work,” she says while patting my shoulder.

I scowl at my drawing. That’s it, I give up. There’s no way I can ever be an artist. I will have to find something different to occupy my time.

After drawing class ends, I file out of the small room and into the museum. I look around, wondering if I will be able to see Rachel, or of she’s nearly done with work. The Louvre is amazing. I can’t believe Rachel was able to score me a class here. I’m almost sorry I have to give it up.

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