Shelly listened with curiosity as the boy talked about his father with respect, and then frowned when he mentioned his sister was an art major. It was his compliment that struck Shelly the hardest. She didn't handle that well. She took a step backwards and stiffened. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it isn't exquisite." She spat the word like a glob of phlegm. "The least you could do is be honest."

She didn't wait for a response as she grabbed her bookbag and pencil box. As she fled from the room, she gave a moment's thought to her portfolio, but it was only a moment and by then she was taking the stairs two-by-two to the outside world.

The night was cool and slightly damp on her skin. Street lights illuminated the sidewalk. As she walked away from the art building, she kept shaking her head angrily at herself. Snotty bastard, she thought. Thinks he knows everything about art. Clearly he's wrong. Wrong in every way. She rubbed her stomach. Follow your gut feelings, Shelly. Don't go near him again.

----------

"Yes, I do smell something. But is it you? How am I supposed to know that? I don't go about sniffing other students," Eleanor said. She gave Francis a weird look, a bit of yellow in her eyes flashing, then leaned back over her notes. The action made her hair slide off of her back and down her arm, exposing a tattoo. Francis' eyes raised as he discretely tried to check it out. He glimpsed the vague shape of a cross before she pulled her hair back over it.

Hmm, interesting.

"Uhm, I hope you don't think I was accusing you of smelling bad," Francis muttered, turning back to his own partial notes. "Because you don't, you know. Smell bad."

And it wasn't a bad smell. It was just an odd smell, one that he hadn't associated with anyone else other than himself. Would it be considered a bad smell if it really was coming from her? Francis didn't know. Frankly, he didn't really want to know. Breathing through his mouth, he sighed and closed his eyes tightly. He was about shove his foot even further into his mouth.

"Look, I'm sorry if I was out of line--"

"Excuse me, but what is the policy in this class if you're caught talking over the professor?" a voice from the front of the room said loudly. "Isn't it an automatic F for the day and an excuse to head to dinner early?" The professor's voice was full of sarcasm, and Francis winced. Wonderful.