It was Jax, her best friend and fellow outcast, sliding into the seat opposite her. He dropped a flyer on top of her sketchbook. It was neon green and smelled like a fresh photocopy.
She didn't say a word. she didn't have to. The girl who spent her days trying to blend into the backwater table had just invited the whole world into her head, and for the first time, the view was spectacular. redhead teen mandy
Mandy’s heart did a strange, caffeinated flutter. Preston was the dream—the kind of place where red hair and charcoal-stained fingers were a badge of honor rather than a reason to be stared at. But the "Midnight Canvas" was tonight, and her "best" was currently a collection of napkins and margins. It was Jax, her best friend and fellow
When her turn came in the darkened warehouse downtown, the other artists showed oil paintings of fruit and polished sculptures of wire. Mandy stood in the center of the room, her red hair glowing like an ember in the dark. She plugged in her device, and suddenly, the ceiling of the warehouse was gone. She didn't say a word