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“What do you mean why?” he stammers. He didn’t think I would tell my version of what happened in Wyatt’s bathroom.
The smile slides off her face instantly. “It’s a very clear question, and I expect an answer.”
Justin goes on the defensive. “You’re not dating Bryce anymore.”
“That means nothing,” Charlotte explains, “I don’t have to date him to marry him. You know that. So, why are you picking on my friend?”
“No reason,” he mutters miserably, “and you know that.”
“You’re being Bryce’s tool,” she replies, “You’re letting him push you around again. Did he insult your drawings? He likes to do that. He can’t draw, but he’ll critique everything you do until you feel talentless.”
Justin’s face starts to flush. He doesn’t like talking about Bryce, much less being thought of as his lackey. He stares at Charlotte in the same way he sometimes stares at me. “He doesn’t control me,” he replies harshly.
“So answer me. Why?” she asks again. “Why are you in such a foul mood all the time now? You didn’t always act like this.”
Justin looks down at his hands. “I’m not going to art school.”
“Why?” I demand, looking at a portrait of one of the security guards. The man has an expressive face, and his eyes stare through you. But it’s only evident in Justin’s painting. “You’re too good not to go,” I tell him. “I mean, I used to go to the museum when I was a kid, and that stuff was nothing compared to yours.”
Justin smiles weakly when he hears my praise. I’m a bit surprised that he’s not used to it..
“Thanks,” he says, “But I haven’t been accepted to any decent art schools yet.”
I shrug my shoulders and try to be a little helpful. “Maybe you should intern with someone instead.”
“I have to go to college,” Justin turns away, and his tone is irate. “It’s nonnegotiable. My father’s connections have found a place for me at his alma mater, but I don’t want to go to that school. They don’t even have an art program.”
Charlotte glances at me, and I back off. She speaks to Justin again. “So the problem isn’t Astrid. It’s personal.”
He sighs. “You could say that.”
“So, maybe you could lay off her,” she replies, “I mean, you don’t want people thinking Bryce is in charge.”
Looking over his shoulder, Justin’s face hardens, and I actually feel a bit threatened by his dark look. He gazes at me, and that expression turns into a wicked smile. He gets off on praise, but his ego has taken a thrashing. For him, the damage is starting to show.
“You both have issues, so maybe you could take it easy on one another?” Charlotte suggests.
Justin faces us, and his expression returns to being placid. “I will if Astrid poses for me.”
My hands rest on my hips. “Oh, there’s the catch. Naked, I suppose.”
Justin laughs. “The school won’t allow it. And it will be during class.”
I stare at Charlotte. “Is he shitting me?”
“He shits you not. The prude police demand it.” She drapes her arm over Justin’s shoulder. “You know how artists are. They drink and smoke and do debauched things as they suffer for their art.”
I nod but decide not to shake on it. It’s too soon to touch him again. “Okay. I’ll do it if you lay off.”
“One down, three to go,” says Charlotte.
