in this hem right here and hand-sew darts here,” she said, pointing out the very problem that had been staring Trihn in the face all day, “I think it would be spectacular.”
Trihn snatched up the dress and assessed what the woman had said. “Wow. Yeah. I hadn’t thought about that. Thank you.”
“I assume I’ll be seeing this piece in the fashion show later this semester.”
“Yeah, right,” Trihn said with a laugh. “Not unless someone steals it.”
“What does that mean exactly?” the woman asked. “You are one of the senior fashion majors, are you not?”
“No, I’m a sophomore. I just came to do this for fun.” Trihn shrugged. “But one day.”
The woman shook her head and then glanced between the skirt and dress. “Do you have any more pieces in the work or sketches I could look at?”
“Um…yeah. Sure,” Trihn said. “Hold on.” She pulled out a notebook from her bag and handed it over to the woman. She looked through it for several minutes while Trihn worked on the skirt, humming to herself all along.
“Well, it seems that your day has arrived.”
Trihn looked at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I normally attend the courses for juniors and seniors. I’m Teena Hart.”
She held her hand out, and Trihn numbly took it.
Teena Hart.
The Teena Hart.
Trihn couldn’t believe this was happening.
“And you are?”
“Sorry. Trihnity Hamilton, but my friends just call me Trihn.”
“That name sounds familiar. How do I know you?”
“I transferred in late last year from NYU. My mother is Linh Hamilton…with Glitz magazine,” she added.
“Oh! Linh! Of course I know her. She’s wonderful. I was aware that you were coming here, but I didn’t realize…” She trailed off. “Your talent is amazing for a second-year student. I know talent when I see it, and I’m moving you into the fashion show this year. You’ll need all the practice you can get.”
“Wait…what?” Trihn asked, dumbfounded.
“Your designs will be featured in the fashion show.”
“But I’m a sophomore,” she stammered out.
“There is no age or class requirement. I can tell you have talent. So, you’d better get to work. You’re a couple of weeks behind the other students.” Teena smiled at her. “It was nice meeting you, Trihn.”
In shock, Trihn just stared at her retreating back. What had just happened?
Teena Hart had appreciated her designs. She’d liked them enough to feature Trihn in the fashion show that was typically reserved for senior students.
A smile broke onto her face, and she did a twirl.
This was exactly what she needed. She would have a million things to do to get ready, but she could do it. She would have to get all the requirements from her design teacher tomorrow, so she could get started.
She carefully folded her work away and darted out of the studio. She sent off texts to Bryna, Stacia, and Maya, letting them know she had good news and that they needed to go to Posse tonight to celebrate. She wished that the new dress was ready, but she couldn’t risk wearing it now that it was going to be in the fashion show.
Trihn returned home to an empty house and started digging around in her sketchbook box for the book that she would need for her next project. She knew it was around here somewhere. If she was going to do this fashion show, she would need something with a bang, and she had the perfect idea, a design she’d done a few weeks before Christmas. She distinctly remembered drawing the dress.
Her heart sank.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
She remembered the last time she’d had it. She had been drawing in it at Neal’s house and didn’t remember ever bringing it home.
Trihn had been adamant about leaving everything at Neal’s place for him to toss out or whatever he wanted to do with her things. But not that sketchbook. She needed that one.
Taking a deep breath, she fished out her phone. She had
Trihn snatched up the dress and assessed what the woman had said. “Wow. Yeah. I hadn’t thought about that. Thank you.”
“I assume I’ll be seeing this piece in the fashion show later this semester.”
“Yeah, right,” Trihn said with a laugh. “Not unless someone steals it.”
“What does that mean exactly?” the woman asked. “You are one of the senior fashion majors, are you not?”
“No, I’m a sophomore. I just came to do this for fun.” Trihn shrugged. “But one day.”
The woman shook her head and then glanced between the skirt and dress. “Do you have any more pieces in the work or sketches I could look at?”
“Um…yeah. Sure,” Trihn said. “Hold on.” She pulled out a notebook from her bag and handed it over to the woman. She looked through it for several minutes while Trihn worked on the skirt, humming to herself all along.
“Well, it seems that your day has arrived.”
Trihn looked at her with wide eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I normally attend the courses for juniors and seniors. I’m Teena Hart.”
She held her hand out, and Trihn numbly took it.
Teena Hart.
The Teena Hart.
Trihn couldn’t believe this was happening.
“And you are?”
“Sorry. Trihnity Hamilton, but my friends just call me Trihn.”
“That name sounds familiar. How do I know you?”
“I transferred in late last year from NYU. My mother is Linh Hamilton…with Glitz magazine,” she added.
“Oh! Linh! Of course I know her. She’s wonderful. I was aware that you were coming here, but I didn’t realize…” She trailed off. “Your talent is amazing for a second-year student. I know talent when I see it, and I’m moving you into the fashion show this year. You’ll need all the practice you can get.”
“Wait…what?” Trihn asked, dumbfounded.
“Your designs will be featured in the fashion show.”
“But I’m a sophomore,” she stammered out.
“There is no age or class requirement. I can tell you have talent. So, you’d better get to work. You’re a couple of weeks behind the other students.” Teena smiled at her. “It was nice meeting you, Trihn.”
In shock, Trihn just stared at her retreating back. What had just happened?
Teena Hart had appreciated her designs. She’d liked them enough to feature Trihn in the fashion show that was typically reserved for senior students.
A smile broke onto her face, and she did a twirl.
This was exactly what she needed. She would have a million things to do to get ready, but she could do it. She would have to get all the requirements from her design teacher tomorrow, so she could get started.
She carefully folded her work away and darted out of the studio. She sent off texts to Bryna, Stacia, and Maya, letting them know she had good news and that they needed to go to Posse tonight to celebrate. She wished that the new dress was ready, but she couldn’t risk wearing it now that it was going to be in the fashion show.
Trihn returned home to an empty house and started digging around in her sketchbook box for the book that she would need for her next project. She knew it was around here somewhere. If she was going to do this fashion show, she would need something with a bang, and she had the perfect idea, a design she’d done a few weeks before Christmas. She distinctly remembered drawing the dress.
Her heart sank.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
She remembered the last time she’d had it. She had been drawing in it at Neal’s house and didn’t remember ever bringing it home.
Trihn had been adamant about leaving everything at Neal’s place for him to toss out or whatever he wanted to do with her things. But not that sketchbook. She needed that one.
Taking a deep breath, she fished out her phone. She had
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