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─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
Tuesday, January 7th
─────── ☆*･゜ﾟ･*♡ ───────
"You're a pretty good artist," Tiffany nods her head in my direction. She studies the sketch of her portrait before flipping through the pages in my sketchbook.
She pauses when she sees the early sketches of Evangeline from the first project. She looks at all of the details, almost memorizing every little thing that I noticed about Evangeline when I was drawing her.
She snaps out of the trance and closes the sketchbook, handing it back to me.
"I can see why everyone really likes her," she says, "She's always been pretty and nice to everyone."
From what I know, they both haven't spoken to each other since the day I woke up from the coma. Maya learned everything from Evangeline over break and told her why they weren't speaking. But Maya doesn't know the full story, only that Tiffany confessed to sleeping with Ethan since the summer.
I opened up to a blank page on the sketchbook, scribbling a question that she might or might not hate me for.
Why did you do it?
She reads the question. She furrows her brows at the question, probably not wanting to answer.
She's about to reply when her door opens and a blonde woman in her early 40s stands there wearing a red nightgown and a black silk robe. Her eyes look watery, tired looking, and as if she's been crying. The dark liner around her eyes are smeared and drops of it are trailing down her face. In her right hand there's a glass full of red wine. It was only 4:36 p.m.
"Mother," Tiffany gasps, "I told you to knock."
"Oh shut it, this is my house," the woman replies, sneering at her daughter. She takes huge gulps of her wine, almost chugging it as if it was water.
I stiffen in my seat, prepared for an insult to be thrown at me. If Tiffany's dad looked at me like I was dirt, her mom wouldn't be too far behind with a similar energy.
"Mom, can you not? I have a guest over," Tiffany says in a low voice, who now stands in front of her mom trying to push her out of the room. "It's not even night yet and you're already drunk."
"Another boy? Why am I not surprised?" Her mom snorts. She strides into the room like it's hers and sits on Tiffany's bed, spilling a bit of wine onto the carpet. "Oops," she laughs, "the maids can clean that up, just like they clean all of your messes up."
"Leave, we're working on a project," Tiffany says with a stern voice.
"For once? I'm shocked. Are you and Ethan done or is this boy also a part of your roster?" Tiffany's mom takes another big sip, drops spilling at the side of her mouth. "I actually took a liking to him, but only when he was Evangeline's boyfriend. I realized that she's the one who makes him look good. No man looks good with a whore at his side."
