Picture Me Naked (Stoddard Art School Series) Read Online Free PDF

pink high top sneaker. “See the pink? Girl.”
    “Oh, Zee,” Nan said with disappointment. “I left you money so you could buy yourself some nice things, and live in a nice place. You should get out there and live a little.”
    “What do you mean? I live. I’m just trying to be frugal. Don’t worry. Someday I’ll buy a tiny little island so I can be the happy recluse I’m meant to be.”
    “Sounds terribly lonely to me. How about a little company?”
    Zee shook her head. “I have Isabella…and you. And there’s always Mom. Plus, I have my work. What more do I need?”
    “I was talking about male company.”
    Zee pulled her riotous hair back into a loose knot at her nape. “I knew what you were talking about. You can save your breath.”
    “What about the hunky boy?”
    “Hunky boy? You mean Jagger Jones?”
    “Is that his name? I like him.”
    “How do you know Jagger?”
    “I told you, I peeked at your sketch pad. Great ass.”
    You can say that again. Zee’s body and her brain bickered again. She shook her head. “Hey, if I can’t say ass, neither can you.”
    “But he has a nice one. At least you’ve drawn him one.”
    If you think that’s good, you should see his… Whoa. “I can’t have this discussion with my grandmother. I need to get to class.” Zee slipped the strap of her book bag over one shoulder, closed the door to the apartment, and trotted down the deep square spiral of stairs. Nana always had a way of cutting to the chase. Annoying, but Zee still loved her. She would love her forever.
    Zee waved good morning to her first-floor neighbor, Mrs. Oglethorpe and her ancient poodle, Casanova. Shocking how much green glitter eye shadow one woman could wear before eight o’clock in the morning. It was almost as if Mrs. O. painted in her heavy black eyebrows to give the eye shadow a place to stop.
    Zee smiled as she went to the car. She’d left herself extra time to coerce George into starting, and made it to the second-floor studio with oodles of time to spare. Yeah. Her favorite easel spot was hers for the taking this morning.
    Big wide windows gave her a great view of the old church next door, letting warm sunshine caress her back as she worked. And, she didn’t have to listen to the drip drip drip of that gross rinse sink. Perfection.Zee set up the easel.
    Closing her eyes, she breathed air deep into her lungs. Ah, she love that smell. All art schools smelled alike. It was the smell of creativity. Someone should sell a candle with this scent. It was a blend of linseed oil and paint and sweat and hope. It mixed the aromas of experimentation, and emotions and gesso on canvas. It always brought Zee back to the days when she was little. Ghosts of art schools past.
    Her mother had been dating some New Age, surrealistic artist. Wasn’t his name Neville? He had talked Mom into sending her off to Saturday morning art lessons at the local high school. Zee knew it was just an excuse to get rid of her for a few hours, but she hadn’t cared. She fell in love with painting and creating her own little worlds where everything was beautiful and colorful and safe.
    Art became her best friend and her escape. She looked forward to those carefree hours of painting when she didn’t have to be the grown up for once. When she didn’t have to remind her mother to buy food for dinner or pay the light bill or be a parent.
    One by one, the other artists arrived for class. Zee respected their set-up rituals and didn’t bother them with more than a good morning smile. Emily arrived first. It was early for her, wasn’t it? She usually flew into the studio at the last minute. She looked adorable today with her short, spiky pixie hair decorated with a little bow. Was she wearing makeup? Odd. Not her usual style. Jessica arrived next, wearing a long skirt and sweater. She looked great, too. Even Geoffrey came in looking very dressed up. What the hell was going on? Did Zee miss some email? Was it class picture