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How could you do that, Suzy? Are you crazy?

What ever you do, don't tell your cousin, don't tell anyone, or you'll get in huge trouble. Anyway though, I love the drawing you did of the painting. Do you know how much talent you have? I am so jealous. I can barely write my name. I don't know how you do it. Jungkook is soooo hot. I showed everyone in the bunk. They think he looks like an Korean idol or an model. Those large, sexy eyes! Does he know you drew his picture? Does he have any idea?

Listen, just an idea. Sneak back into the gallery again at lunchtime and return the picture. Take a picture of it first and then give it back. Seriously, think about it. I don't want my best friend to go to jail! Do you know how horrible those prisons are? There's one in China that makes kids eat nasty food and doesn't have A/C and it's over a hundred degrees in summer! Kids have died there. Anyway, if you get busted, that will kill your last college year.
Great bunk, expect for one nerd who I know will go to Harvard because she got a 35 on her ACT. And get this, she reads dictionaries for fun. My goodness, we had our second coed sport game and I got won two, which I think impressed ChoiJaeho who's kind of cute except for bad teeth. I'll keep you updated. Report to me immediately on any more sightings or run-ins with JK.

(P.S. I swear I have gained pounds. I look like a total balloon. I hate the carbs here!)

Love you and miss you!

Sulli.

I'm proud of the picture I had hesitated before I sent it. But I needed to show it to Sulli, if only to confirm that it wasn't only me who saw something so surreal and beautiful in his face.

Then there was the painting.

I had never done anything like that before. If my parents find out they'll blame themselves, the divorce, the stress on me of being sent away from home. But it is none of that. It is simply a case of want, need, and no choice. I had to have it. It was as close I'd ever get to him.

Would I eventually be found out? Would the police come knocking on my door and drag me out in handcuffs? So far, I've been lucky. None of the police cars are chasing me. Every time I hear a siren, though, my heart jumps. I wait at the window until it passes before leaving the house, even though that's totally stupid. I mean, if they knew it was me, wouldn't they just come and get me? Why would they wait, to see if I took more stuff?

What's strange is that there's been nothing in the local paper. There isn't much crime here, but when there is, the paper writes about it - drunk driving, speeding, or the theft of a lawn mower or bike. Since it is a painting in a gallery, maybe it isn't considered a huge deal. Either that, or the gallery owner doesn't realize it was gone, or doesn't care. It isn't a Picasso, but still . . . I am a  thief.

° ° ° ° ° 

I swim for part of the afternoon and it's a welcome distraction. I can farther now without getting winded. After I get back to the blanket, I dry off, then bike home along the beach. I slow down suddenly, confused. Yoongi. Guilt washes over me. Why is he not in his regular spot?

Then I see.

"Suzy," he calls. "Come work with me. We have a model."

My stomach tightens.

Jungkook. It couldn't be more embarrassing if her were naked. I hesitate.

"Suzy," he waves me over, impatiently. Sweat eats into my skin. I work at acting relaxed. "I don't have my sketchbook, Yoongi."

Jungkook turns to me, taking me in.

"I have another," Yoongi says. "Come, he's such a good model."

I take the pad and pencil from Yoongi. "You know each other, yes?" he says to both of us.

A hum acknowledgement escapes my lips.

"How are you?" Jungkook says, softly, his voice as calm and lyrical as music. I swear, his eyes are laughing.

I work at taking a breath and slide into the sand close to Yoongi. "Good," I mumble.

The artist begins to sketch.

He's a professional model. Perfect repose. There's not a nervous bone in his body, he hold that still. I get down as much as I can, reasonably happy with the outline of his head, the angle of his jaw, the strong curve of his shoulders and the muscles of his arms. It must be the nearness of Yoongi that helps, if that's possible. He looks down at my picture after a few minutes, studying it.

"Maybe the face now?" Yoongi says. We both start a new page.

Jungkook shifts from leaning back on his elbows to it sitting up, legs stretched out in front of him, leaning back on his hands. he tilts his head back, his eyes focused on me, without blinking.

Whose character study is this?

My eyes meet his, then flit back to the paper, my safety zone, a respite from the tension between what's real and physical.

"Ten minutes," Jungkook says. he has to go back to work, this is his lunch hour, I realize. My heart sinks. No, I want to insist. how can I stop? my hand works faster, racing the clock.

He glances down to check his watch, and finally stands to go, squeezing his eyes, shaking his head as if he's waking from a trance. He reaches overhead to stretch and I look away.

Yoongi puts his hands together as if in prayer. "My dear Kookie, thank you." I murmur in agreement. As he walks away, his eyes glance down at my sketch. What does he think?

He walks off without giving me much as a hint.

Yoongi puts his pencil down and turns to look at me. Unknowingly, I yawn.

"Sleepy, Suzy?"

I nod.

"All the concentration, it can be tiring, no?" He smiles as id he understands more than he says.

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