Deadly Little Voices Read Online Free PDF Page A

while now, seeing where my impulses take me, but I can’t seem to get it right.

    “She’s obsessing you, isn’t she?” Spencer asks, standing at my side now. “I get obsessed with my pieces, too.” He nods toward his work area in the back, where he’s been plugging away at a life-size bronze ballerina. “Sometimes I find myself awake at three in the morning, pacing the hallways of my apartment, unable to stop questioning my work. I go over the process in my head, wondering whether if I’d used a different casting method maybe she’d look less forced.”

    “Your work is brilliant,” I tell him, hoping he knows it’s true.

    Spencer shrugs off the compliment, preferring instead to focus on me. “So, what’s the problem?” He takes a closer look at my piece.

    “I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know what I’m doing here.” Why would I even think of coming within a thousand-mile radius of a pottery studio after what just happened in sculpture class?

    “Care to share?”

    I take a deep breath, feeling lonelier than I have in a long time, and more fearful than ever before. “Not really,” I tell him.

    “You’re just trying too hard,” he says, still assuming that my sucky mood has to do with my sucky sculpture. “I can see where your efforts are going, but you’re falling a bit short on technique.”

    “As if I couldn’t feel worse.”

    “Are you kidding?” he asks, stroking his facial scruff. “Technique can be learned. But talent and obsessive compulsiveness like ours…that has to be innate.”

    “And where do you suppose I learn better technique?” I ask, wondering if he’s going to teach me.

    “What you need is a life drawing class. More care needs to be taken with respect to body, form, and awareness of the muscles and joints.”

    “It’s a bowl,” I remind him.

    “A bowl with a whole lot of body,” he says, pointing out the area beneath the handle, where it looks like there might be a knee. “I’ve got a friend who works at Hayden. Are you up for a little Life Drawing 101?”

    “That depends.…How much does it cost?”

    “Don’t worry about it,” he says, stepping away to grab his cell phone. “Dwayne owes me a favor or two. I hooked him up with a hottie a couple weeks ago, and he’s been begging to pay me back ever since.”

    While Spencer calls his friend to see if I can serve as hottie payback, I glance over at Svetlana. She’s abandoned the bunny figurines and is trying her hand at rock sculpture now, by experimenting with Spencer’s mallet and chisel.

    “You’re in,” Spencer says not two minutes later, sliding his phone shut. “Dwayne’s expecting you Thursday night at six o’clock sharp. Apparently, you’ve already missed a few classes, but he’ll treat you as a drop-in.”

    “Thanks,” I say, trying my best to sound enthusiastic, because I know I should be grateful.

    “Sure, just don’t let me down.”

    “In what way?” I ask, surprised by the comment.

    Spencer looks away, toward the table of feisty bunnies. “I just think you have an amazing amount of talent, and I don’t want to see it go to waste.”

    “It won’t,” I say, suspecting that Spencer may be feeling a bit sucky, too. Before I can ask him about it, a loud clanking bursts in on our conversation.

    “It’s okay?” Svetlana asks, noticing our attention. Bits of soapstone lie strewn about the table.

    “Not okay,” Spencer says, most likely referring to the fact that she’s not wearing the requisite pair of safety goggles to protect her eyes. She’s placed them on one of the bunny statues instead.

    I’m just about to tell her that failure to take safety precautions is a huge no-no in Spencer’s Big Bad Book of Studio Rules, but then I reconsider. Because, while it appears that the bunnies may indeed be humping, at least they’re trying to use some form of protection.

    Dear Jill,

    Do you remember the day you wore a skirt to work? It was black, and