A Perfect Lie

Truthfully, the dinner wasn’t as bad as you had thought it would be. Nope, it was much worse.
An unpleasant tension seemed to be building between you and Nonam that made you fidget uncomfortably from your spot across the table. Of course, like with everything else, your father was completely oblivious to this. Instead he went on to tell the other teens of “the good ol’ days” of his youth, claiming that he’d once been in a band. You’d heard the stories a billion times, and tuned them out, trying to concentrate on sending waves of displeasure in Nonam’s direction.
Fiona got into a rather heated argument on what real art was with your father. He believed it was only created by masters of the trade, while she deemed his view foolish, stating that it was the expression of the soul; anyone could create a work of art.
“Whether it’s good art or not is another argument entirely.” muttered one of the twins. You shot them a glare, unsure of which one to scold.
“Anyways, I was hoping _____ could help me with one of my big projects.”
The statement pulled you back from your glare to glance at Fiona. “…I’m not much of an artist, so I don’t know if I could help you…” And even if you had been, you would still have been reluctant after seeing her other creations.
She laughed, and shook her head, oblivious to the meaning behind your words. “I don’t need you as an artist, _____. I was hoping you would be a model for me.”
Across the table, Nonam choked on his coke. All eyes turned to him as Cade smacked him hard on the back.
“You alright there, Nonam?” he asked with a small grin curling his lips.
“Wouldn’t want you choking to death, now would we?” his twin chimed.
Nonam glared hard between the twins before turning his eyes back to his half eaten plate. You could almost have sworn that he was blushing, but with his skin it was hard to tell.
‘What… the Hell?’ A thought flickered at the edge of your mind that made your cheeks burn lightly, but you quickly shooed it away. ‘There’s just no freaking way…’
Fiona blinked at Nonam before turning back to you. “Ominous sign aside, I was really hoping you’d be my model. I have to make a portrait of someone and I can’t stand the girls at the college. They’re all walking sticks who think they’re almighty beings or something.” She gave you a long sad look. “Please? I don’t have much, but I’ll pay you.”
Before you could get word out your father interjected. “Oh you don’t have to pay her. _____ would be happy to help out. Wouldn’t you?”
You looked over to where he sat to find him smiling obliviously. The twins snickered quietly from their seats while Nonam watched you from under messy dreads. It was like the world was waiting for your response. It was unnerving to say the least.
Finally, you forced a smile and nodded at Fiona, internally cursing your father to every blood curdling, bone chilling punishment you could think of a man having to endure. “Sure. I’d… love to.” For a moment you thought she might hear and see just how much you WOULDN’T love to be her model, but a second later her eyes lit up light a kid’s on Christmas morning.
“Really, _____? Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” There, again, was that weird, almost girly reaction that didn’t work with the front she put up. It made you wonder.
“Well then,” your father said, clapping his hands together. “That will be something to look forward to, won’t it _____?”
No.
“Yeah.” You said, turning your gaze back to your plate. ‘That’s one way to put it…’
“You’ll have to show us the finished result!” Cade grinned.
“Absolutely! Right Nonam?” Claude added, nudging him as he picked at a chunk of potato salad.
Nonam, who seemed to have regained his composure, grinned. “Yeah. It’ll certainly be a masterpiece, that’s for sure.” Even as you gave him a long suspicious look through narrowed (e/c) orbs, he held that cocky grin.
Butterflies squirming around in your stomach you bit at your lip and prayed that this didn’t end as badly as you thought it would.