Still Lifes (#LunaEast)

Cutout Pieces of Paper

“She’s still not here, Vasquez,” I said automatically—and irately—as soon as he appeared at the studio’s doorway.

He looked at me wide-eyed as he stood frozen in place. “I was just looking!”

“You’ve looked. She’s not here. Now, go!” I waved at him dismissively so I could continue on my plate.

It was Thursday, two days since Vasquez walked in and said Gigi hadn’t been coming to class. It was also two days since I made any headway with my plate. I still had to finalize the setting of my cutout pieces before I could finally glue them all together. Once they’ve adhered to the canvas, it would be hard to redo and I’d have to start from scratch. 

“It’s been four days,” Vasquez mumbled as he leaned on the door jamb and looked towards Gigi’s side of the room.

“So?”

“Aren’t you at least a bit worried?”

The annual exhibit was in two weeks, and Ms Lee didn’t seem satisfied with my progress. And when she checked in on me late Tuesday, she gave her signature once-over and said to “Think about it some more.” I badly needed this extra credit, so no, I had other things to worry about.

“If you’re so worried, why don’t you try contacting her?” I said instead, trying not to start getting into a negative vibe. It wouldn’t help with the work I was doing.

“I would, but…” He scratched the back of his head before looking back at me. “Her contact number and address weren’t in the class directory.”

I adjusted my sitting position on the stool as I hovered over  my canvas. Maybe if I make my self look busy, he’d go away. “Who collected the info for the directory anyway?”

“She did.”

I snorted out a laugh. “So, she apparently hassled everyone for info but didn’t include herself. But since the teachers trusted her, they didn’t know any better. Smart.” I couldn’t help but admire her ingenuity.

“But what about for emergencies?” Vasquez asked with alarm, clearly taking it personally. “We should still have a way to contact her, right?”

“School records,” I answered. “They ought to have it. But you can’t simply walk into the Registrar’s Office without an authorization letter for your request. You can’t just ask for student info just because they wouldn’t talk to you.” 

Some students of Luna East Arts Academy are high profile, so this regulation was strictly implemented. And Gigi, being the striving Teacher’s Pet she always have been, knew that well enough and used that to her advantage. 

“Look, Vasquez, face it. She clearly doesn’t want to be found easily. And if she could get away with being absent for almost a week without your teachers worrying, she probably called in sick already.” I then waved at him dismissively again. “Now shoo! I have work to do.”

“But—”

“Miss Sanchez,” another voice started and I almost fell off my stool as I hovered over my canvas. 

The deep smooth voice came from Mr Benedicto, the tall, brooding yet handsome painting instructor that I had a huge crush on. He had deep-set eyes, a stubble on his strong jaw, square shoulders, and lean arms. He stood at the door, two whole heads taller than Vasquez, in his short-sleeved casual barong and rugged jeans. He had this indie rockstar vibe about him, and he carried it well. Not to mention that the man was pure talent when faced with a blank canvas and a palette of oils. Could you really blame all the girls from the art club from fangirling over him?