Picture Perfect by Thomas Alessandra

Author:Thomas, Alessandra [Thomas, Alessandra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: romance, New adult
ISBN: 9781482750515
Published: 2013-03-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

In the next week and a half, I did nothing to complete Doctor Albright’s assignment. Whenever the idea popped up in my head, I was on the elliptical, or in bed with Nate, or teasing him through a recipe in his kitchen. I felt good. Why did I need to be in the real world? If spending all my time with Nate was what I needed to do to get through this semester, that was what I was going to do.

Yeah, Doctor Albright had been in my position. Sort of. The difference was that her weight hadn’t been her entire identity, the one thing people thought of when they saw her. She hadn’t been dumped based solely on her body, like I was.

Not that I even cared about asshole Jake anymore.

But because of Nate, at least I spent more time in the design studio than I ever had before. Any time I told him I felt huge, or ridiculous, he reminded me that it had to be either my attitude or my clothes. He could remind me that any of my body-image freakouts were unwarranted with a few strategically placed kisses. If it was my clothes making me feel horrible, we could figure out other options.

I’d learned the basics of sewing in my freshman and sophomore years, of course. But now I really got into it, learning how to turn a seam and make interesting structures for a model’s body out of fabric.

I stood at one of the computers in Temple’s fashion design studio surrounded by bolts of fabric and mannequins. All the mannequins were size fours, bigger than the average fashion model, weirdly, but still four full sizes smaller than me.

Nate strolled around the studio, stopping to gaze out the long windowed wall that looked out over the city. “God, the architecture just kills me. Can we come here some time at night? I want to see it lit up from this window. Drexel might not have a lot of things, but it does have an incredible view.”

“Shut up,” I said, through pins stuck between my teeth. I was pinning a heavy brocade to the mannequin for a waist ruffle on a dress that had a faux-wrap top. I’d had this idea in my head for weeks, but couldn’t seem to get it right. It didn’t help that my semester portfolio project, a collection that I’d have to present on the design school’s catwalk in December, was looming.

“Very old-school,” Nate said, walking over and assessing the design. “Very film noir.”

My cell phone dinged in the pocket of my jacket, and through the pins jutting out of my mouth, I mumbled, “Can you get that? Joey might be texting me.”

“We going out?” he asked, a tone of mild interest in his voice. He pulled the phone out of my coat pocket and swiped at it to read Joey’s message.

“It’s not Joey,” he said. “E-mail from Doctor Albright? Your doctor e-mails you?”

I hadn’t told Nate about Doctor Albright, for a couple of reasons.

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