Will Work for Prom Dress Read Online Free PDF

serious. I set his sketchbook down to pull the skirt out for a better look. Zander sighed as he caught sight of the awful blob on his sketchbook. I sighed as I saw that the dress was going to be a good six inches too small for me. I’d have said I would be six inches too big, but I preferred to think of the dress as being to blame. It was my own version of the glass half-full/half-empty distinction.
    Zander stared down at the sketch. “Hopeless.”
    “Hopeless.” I agreed and let the shimmery silk slide out of my fingers.
    We sat there for a minute lost in mutual misery until the clicking of Ms. Parisi’s approaching heels snapped us out of it. She always wore shoes with super-long, skinny toes that reminded me of the legs under the fallen Oz house. They cost a fortune and were in all the fashion mags, so I guess “witchy” was in, and I just had no taste in footwear.
    “How are we doing here?”
    “Oh, good. Fine. Just need to make a few adjustments,” Zander stammered, and leaned over to hide his sketchbook.
    Ms. Parisi stroked the dress. “Beautiful choice of fabrics, Alexander. You have a good eye for movement.” She cocked her head and slid her hand inside the dress and nodded. “Smart to leave a decent seam allowance. It’s delicate material; be sure not to damage it when making your alterations. This color will look lovely on Quigley.”
    “I agree,” said Zander.
    Ms. Parisi’s radar went off at Anne’s giggle. Across the room, The Spikester was taking Anne’s waist measurement as she pretended to be ticklish. Ms. Parisi’s witchy shoes clicked off to intervene before he moved on up to the bust.
    “So can you really fix
that
dress to fit
this
body?” I asked.
    “Of course.” Zander was already turning the garment inside out to inspect the seams.
    “I’m sorry you have to do all that. I know I’m not exactly a model figure.”
    “Are you kidding? You have a great figure—perfect proportions. Today’s model figures are pretty warped, if you ask me. Look at how tiny your waist is—to tell the truth, hourglass is a great look for this style of dress. You’re actually helping me out—helping me envision how much better it can be.”
    My cheeks probably matched the dress. “It’s still a lot of work.”
    “Sure, but
this”
—he flipped the skirt with grin—“I’m good at.” He glanced at the sketchbook in disgust. “That, on the other hand …”
    “Well, the final product is what matters. Right?”
    “I wish that was all that mattered. I just can’t seem to translate what I see in my head to what my hands draw on paper.”
    I sat back down on the stool and flipped through the rest of his sketchbook. I searched for something to compliment. When he was engrossed with his little thread picker, I turnedseveral of the pages to the side, and even upside down, trying to figure out what garment the sketch was supposed to be. He was right—hopeless.
    “You, umm, choose really beautiful colors?”
    He looked up and laughed. It was so genuine I couldn’t help but laugh with him.
    “That’s like saying my dresses have really great personalities,” he gasped.
    This set me off on another round of giggles. The class had turned to see what was so funny. We tried to compose ourselves. Zander was still chuckling as he went back to his seam snipping.
    I turned to a fresh sheet in his sketchbook and picked up a red pencil. The lines of his gown flared out, and I added a swoop of purple here and there where the material would catch the light. I exaggerated the length of the limbs and neck of the figure with a thick black line. Satisfied, I picked up the red pencil again and started coloring.
    This was turning out to be the best job ever.

Chapter Four

    Mrs. Albertt’s voice droned on and on about processing times and F-stops. The tangy smell of developing chemicals wafted from the darkroom. I jerked out of my near doze and wondered if they were related to chloroform. I heard you had to