"I've been meaning to talk to you..." said Matilda, "but I was so busy catching up with friends after the summer, you know, and then all those clubs started running. And you started disappearing in here..."
"Talk about what?" asked Alice innocently.
"Oh, just how much I want to be friends with you." said Matilda, cupping her shoulders with her sharp, long claws.
"Friends with me? Really?!" Matilda jumped like a five-year-old being offered a lolly.
"Of course," replied Matilda, "you have brought quite an uproar in the year. They can't stop talking about you. How beautiful and smart you are, how cute and innocent. Half my guy friends already have a crush on you."
Alice's eyes became wider and wider with each sentence, "You're joking!" she said.
"Whatever you are saying to her, Matilda," interrupted Miss Cook, "keep at it, because that is the most wonderful expression I have ever seen on anyone's face."
"For sure, Miss Cook!" replied Matilda, keeping half her gaze on her brushstrokes and the other half on a blushing and overjoyed Alice.
"Oh yeah, they all love you." said Matilda, with a tinge of jealousy emanating from her tone, "they just don't know how to talk to you. With you being so beautiful and all. It also doesn't help that no one knows anything about you, so you are kind of the mystery of the year right now. Where have you been this whole time?"
"I was getting homeschooled," answered Alice, "but now that I got good enough grades in my GCSEs to prove that I can do medecine, I somehow convinced my grandfather to send me to a proper school..." she paused to think, "for the extracurriculars." she said, blushing slightly.
"Just extracurriculars?" inquired Matilda, "or were you hoping for something more..." she hinted, eyebrows tilting, "friendships, boys, parties?"
"Maybe..." answered Alice, smiling nervously, "friendships, sure, but that hasn't been going that well so far."
"Oh, don't worry at all, my darling," said Matilda, "I'm your friend now. It's my duty to show you the ways of high school."
"Done," exclaimed Miss Cook suddenly. "And my what a piece it is."
Matilda ran to see the portrait. It was the most beautiful depiction of a human being she had ever seen. The brushstrokes fell so smoothly on the canvas. The brightness of Alice's face was highlighted by the slightly dimmed background. A sparkle showed in her eyes, and a blush on her cheeks. She could see the admiration, appreciation, and adoration incarnate in that portrait. "How the hell did you make that?!" asked Matilda.
Miss Cook answered, looking downwards with a shy smile, "I guess Alice just brings that side out in me."
But Alice wasn't listening. Her gaze was transfixed on the portrait, an expression of bewilderment and admiration spread accross her face.
"Well, we should exhibit this!" said Matilda excitedly.
"No!" jumped Miss Cook, stretching out her palm."You can't do that."
"Why not?" asked Matilda, "it's a wonderful piece!"
How could Miss Cook answer that question? She had poured so much of her soul into that portrait that exposing it to the world felt like a violation of the deepest of her privacies. And what if the other Art teachers saw it? Matilda didn't see it because she's an inexperienced artist, but other teachers might be able to see the feelings with which she had drawn that portrait. She could not let that happen. "Alice should take it." she said. "After all, it's Alice's portrait, so, in principle, it belongs to her."
"Really?!" exclaimed Alice. "I can take this?!" she clapped her hands happily.
"Take it all you want." brooded Matilda, "it's just gonna serve as a reminder soon enough."
"A reminder of what?" asked Alice.
"Of the beauty you used to have." Matilda answered. "Soon enough, you are going to lose that smooth skin to ageing wrinkles, and the brightness in your eyes will dim." Getting close to her ear, she whispered, "no one would want you then."
Alice cast her eyes downwards, a dark cloud swirled around her head as her eyes pricked with tears. "How horrible!" she cried, "why would you say such a thing? Why would you make this portrait of me, make me aware of the 'beauty', I didn't even know I had, only to take it away the next second?"
Miss Cook tried to sooth her by placing the palm of her hand on Alice's shoulder. Alice flinched. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, "it's all your fault. You and your portrait can both go to hell!" she started sobbing, trying to hide her tears with her hands, "Oh, how I wish this portrait would age instead of me. Yes, how I wish that. That I would stay young and beautiful, and this portrait would take all my maladies. What I wouldn't give for that! I would give my soul for that!"
"Now, now, stop crying." said Matilda, "it's not gonna help you."
"Yes, just take the portrait and go home." said Miss Cook. "I'll explain to reception and the teachers of your coming lessons. Just take this quickly." She ushered, "Go home and rest."
Alice got up and left with the accursed portrait in one hand while wiping her tears with the other.