Paint Me Beautiful

what I want and how to make it happen. Emmett raises one brow and scratches at the side of his face nervously.
    “ I think he may have threatened to add me to his wall of animal heads.” I put my hand up to my mouth and try not to laugh. Then I remember that my nails are blue and tuck them back beneath my thighs.
    “ God, I'm sorry,” I say with a sigh. “At least he didn't shoot out your tires.”
    “ You say that like he's done it before?”
    “ Oh, he has,” I say and I can't hold back the burst of raw laughter that spills from my throat when Emmett makes a deer in the headlights stare.
    “ Shit,” he says and then he laughs, too. It seems like Emmett is always laughing. It's one of the things that attract me to him. I study his face in the passing orange glows from the highway lights. He's both deathly handsome and ruggedly boyish at the same time. Normally, I go for these clean cut, sporty types, but Emmett is leagues beyond any boy I've ever gone out with. It's hard to explain, but when I'm around him, it feels like that's where I'm meant to be, like I've finally found my way home. How stupid, I think to myself. Getting attached to a perfect stranger. You are just asking for more rejection, Claire. Don't you get enough?
    “ Tell me about your new job,” I say, trying to distract myself from my own thoughts. They seem to be so scattered lately, so disorganized. I say it's a hazard of the occupation and move on. “What exactly did you go to school for? How does that make you the perfect employee in Marlena's eyes?” Emmett thinks about this for a moment, just like he did when I asked questions at the tree house. He's actually using that age old adage: Think before you speak.
    “ Well, when I graduate at the end of this year, I'll have a degree in environmental science. I never really expected to use it in a law firm, not without switching over to environmental law and going to law school, but your sister's position is pretty unique. It's one of a kind, really, like a dream come true.” I swallow and look away. I can empathize with that. Dreams are the most beautiful thing in the world. Any chance to snatch one from the sky and put it in your pocket should be capitalized on, no matter what the cost. “I think I owe you my place there.” I look back over at him. My eyelashes are tickling my cheeks, lulled into sleepy comfort by the close, warmness of the car and Emmett's comforting presence. I realize suddenly that I'm not wearing mascara. Or eyeliner. Or foundation. And I've paired a Roberto Cavalli dress with cheap flip flops from the grocery store. Wow, Emmett, see what you do to me? I wonder how much worse it will get when I actually know the guy. He could be the thing that destroys me, he really could.
    “ Why?”
    Emmett pulls us into a parking space near the front of the learning center building. It's a big stucco covered structure with orange-brown paint and an excessive amount of exterior lighting. Inside, the double glass front doors, I can see white linoleum and a group of people milling around the entrance to one of the classrooms. I'm the only idiot wearing a designer gown. I clutch the fabric with my hands, tangle the chiffon in sweaty fingers. Emmett turns off the engine and tucks his keys in the front pocket of his black jeans. I'm not looking at him anymore, too focused on the growing group of people and the fact that I am not up to my usual standards tonight. I'm not used to going out unless I know that I'm as perfect as I can get. That's a model's job, after all, to be perfect, to be someone you can look at and find nothing to critique. Tonight, my hair is almost as mussy as Emmett's, frizzy and unruly and tangled at the ends. My lips are dry and my fucking fingernails are blue. I start to question my motives in coming out here.
    “ I think your sister only hired me to get at you,” Emmett whispers. I think he senses my emotions and is trying to distract me, but it doesn't work. I've just spotted Le-freaking-anne and Jenn in the crowd. Fate? Hardly. Coincidence. Doubtful. I'm guessing Marlena called them. That would be just like her. Come on guys. Claire, needs all the help she can get. She's a poor, starving fat girl with bones for days and blotchy skin and these weird ass blue freaking fingernails. I probably confiscated her friend's phone at work to find out where they were going. Please go stalk her, in the name of love, of course. I scowl at the pretend Marlena and wish