Lizzie pushed open the heavy wooden door of the old schoolhouse and was met with an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia. Lockers lined the hallways, and the smell of paper and paint filled her nose as she inhaled. Various pieces of art (some better than others) were hung over top of the lockers—a lot of landscapes, which weren't necessarily Lizzie's favorite, but also some portraits that looked amazing.
But what did she know?
"Are you Lizzie?"
She looked off to a room on her left to see a man rising to his feet. He had thick, wavy salt-and-pepper hair and a beard to match. He looked friendly and kind, which was a relief considering what she was about to do. Plus, he wasn't bad on the eyes, with a sweet smile that took up most of his face.
"Andrew," he said, sticking out his hand. "Nice to finally meet you."
Lizzie smiled. Andrew was the director of the community art center who she'd been emailing with for the last two weeks. Her cheeks felt very hot all of a sudden. Her friends had warned her she'd likely need a couple of vodka shots to work up the nerve for the night, and she was starting to wish she'd taken their advice.
"Well, come on," said Andrew. "Let me show you around."
Lizzie followed Andrew around the bottom floor of the old schoolhouse. One of the rooms was occupied by two older women putting the finishing touches on portraits of each other. Another room acted as a space for unique sculptures made of what looked, to Lizzie, like metal junk and scrap.
"And this is where I spend most of my time," Andrew said breathlessly, coming to a small room in the very back of the hallway. The floor was covered in drop cloths and paint splatter, and several canvases were propped up against the walls, many of which were destroyed.
"Those didn't make the cut?" said Lizzie, motioning at one that had a big red X spray-painted over the center.
Andrew pushed his fingers through his hair, which made Lizzie swoon a bit. She wasn't normally so... smitten, but she hadn't expected Andrew to be so handsome. His old Harley Davidson t-shirt was torn at the collar and clung a bit to Andrew's slight belly. Lizzie found it endearing, and she loved the way his jeans were covered in splotches of teal paint, along with his black Chuck Taylors.
"I'm a 'tortured artist' I guess you could say," laughed Andrew, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "So, do you have any questions before I take you upstairs?"
Lizzie chewed the inside of her cheek. "Ummm, I don't think so."
"You nervous?"
"A little bit."
Andrew smiled warmly at her. "Don't be. I mean, you can be, of course. It's natural. But this is a good group of people, and they're so excited to have a new model. I think we covered all the basics in our email exchange—all the class fees go straight to you. We'll start with some warm-up poses and then move into having you hold longer positions."
Lizzie let out a breath. "Cool! Yeah, let's do it."
Andrew clapped his hands together. "I like the enthusiasm!"
He took her upstairs and showed her the classroom that had about 20 chairs facing a small riser at the front. There was a black chair where Lizzie would be sitting, with a large tripod light positioned nearby.
Andrew pointed out the bathroom where Lizzie could change. Once she was inside, Lizzie gave herself a once-over in the mirror. She dragged her hairbrush through her light brown hair and made sure she didn't have anything in her teeth. She reapplied her deodorant and slipped into the black robe she'd brought with her.
"Okay, it's happening. This is a thing," she said to herself, feeling a chill of excitement. It really was thrilling, even though it was nerve-wracking too.
If you had asked her even just two years ago if she'd ever pose nude for a figure drawing class, Lizzie would have thought you were crazy. Her self-esteem hadn't been the greatest after her breakup with Marshall. In fact, she'd gone through a period where she could hardly stand to look at herself in the mirror.
It wasn't like her. She'd always been so vivacious and confident, the sort of person who attracted attention and looks from men and women alike. She'd always loved herself, but then...
Lizzie walked out of the bathroom and heard voices in the classroom. People were starting to arrive.
Another chill rolled down her shoulders. She hoped this class would be a confidence boost. The money would be nice, of course, but more than anything, she wanted to feel good about herself after it was all said and done. She'd been doing the emotional work over the last year or so, but now she really needed to get herself out there. When she saw the Facebook post about the community center looking for nude figure models, she figured it was the perfect thing to push herself with.
Lizzie stood in the back of the hallway, not knowing if she should go ahead in. But Andrew found her and ushered her inside anyway, with a big friendly greeting that she was actually grateful for.
"Everyone, this is Lizzie, our model for the evening!"
"Hi, Lizzie," said the group, a mix of people of all ages.
Lizzie smiled at everyone and realized they all seemed pretty nice. They looked down-to-earth and kind the way that Andrew did. No one here came off as snobby or stuffy. Lizzie reminded herself that they were there to practice their craft, not judge her body.
Andrew stood at the front of the room and held up his hands, indicating the start of class. Lizzie was hot and sweaty as she took off her robe, revealing her nude body for the first time.
The light was hot against her skin, and bright, but she quickly got used to it. She moved through a series of minute-long basic poses, like sitting with one leg crossed over the other. Lizzie's eyes wandered slightly, even though the rest of her was frozen. All of the artists looked so focused. It didn't matter that the side of one thigh was dimpled with cellulite or that her breasts weren't as perky as they used to be.
After the opening poses, Lizzie rearranged her limbs into holds that were a bit more complicated. She stood up and positioned herself like some sort of statue, arms bent regally near her waist. Her face was aimed right to the back of the room, where Andrew was overseeing the sketches coming to life.
But his eyes wandered up to Lizzie's gaze and stayed there. Lizzie noticed the small smile on his lips. He gave her a short nod that said, "You're killing it."
Lizzie resisted the urge to smile back, not wanting to change her neutral expression. But there was something charming about this man. Comforting, even. She thought it would be more awkward to undress in front of a man she found so attractive and had just met, but it wasn't.
By the time that Lizzie got to her last pose, she felt almost powerful. It was interesting to watch everyone's hands moving quickly on the other side of their easel or tablet. Their eyes flicked down and up, down and up, capturing the small details of Lizzie's body.
"Okay, guys! That's time," said Andrew. He moved back to the front of the room and extended his hand toward Lizzie, who was pulling on her robe while stretching her legs at the same time. "Let's give a round of applause for Lizzie. We appreciate you." He looked back at her and smiled. There was that big grin again.
Once Lizzie was dressed, Andrew asked her if she was interested in walking around to look at the sketches that everyone had come up with.
"Wow," said Lizzie, genuinely taken aback by how much everyone's drawings really looked like her. Most of them had captured the details of her body with shocking authenticity. It was like looking at a photograph or reflection of herself. She felt strangely emotional seeing the soft folds and rolls of her body upon the sketchpads, crosshatched and smudged.
