The motto of Beauneville Latin, inscribed over the door, translates roughly to "Anything is permitted, so long as it's tasteful."
Natasha gets the former pretty well, but struggles with the latter.
In the evening, Natasha invites everyone she knows at Old Ivy to her apartment for drinks, and to witness the unveiling of her latest painting. Roderick and Molly go together. Henry is 'busy' this evening, so Megan goes by herself. Albert and Pamela go together. Anna hasn't coupled up with anyone, so she latches on to Megan.
Natasha's suite on the second floor of East Quad is spacious. Old Ivy practices equality in housing: everyone has an equal opportunity to rent the best space they can afford. Natasha's father bought out the previous owners of the suite at the South end of East Quad; originally designed as a faculty apartment, it's now considered the best available space for students on campus, with a bedroom, studio and living room with a view of the river.
When Roderick and Molly arrive, drinks are already set up on the table and the party is in full swing. Megan, Anna and Natasha stand chatting by the picture window. Albert and Pamela sit in a couch in the corner, flirting.
"Will you play me some Scarlatti?" Albert whispers.
"Which Scarlatti?" demands Pamela with a faux-stern look.
"Oh, Domenico Scarlatti of course" says Albert. And both break out in peals of laughter. Molly thinks it's cute the way they play. Cute but retarded.
Natasha sees Roderick and Molly, and offers them drinks. With everyone fully libated, she claps her hands.
"Okay, everyone, it's time for the unveiling! Come on over!" She gestures to an easel standing in one corner of the living room. The picture is covered, but everyone can see it's quite large.
Everyone gathers in a semicircle. Albert and Pamela tear themselves away from one another and stand at the far left; then Megan, Molly, Roderick and Anna to Roderick's right.
"Well...I'm not much for ceremony," says Natasha ceremoniously. "But I would like to thank a few people who made this possible. First, my Mom and Dad, who aren't here but give me money."
Polite applause.
"And Mrs. Pampers, who keeps Felix and Fanny out of my hair so I can devote myself to my art."
More applause.
"To my muse, Caspar David Friedrich, who inspires me daily."
Clap, clap, clap.
"And to Molly, who modeled for this painting."
"Yay!" Albert, Pamela, Megan, Roderick and Anna all cheer for Molly, who blushes and looks puzzled.
"I haven't modeled for Natasha recently," she whispers to Roderick, who just smiles.
"And now," says Natasha grandly, "the painting!" With a sweeping motion, she unveils the painting.
Dead silence. You can hear a pin drop, as the only noise is the sound of Molly blushing. The painting shows Molly sprawled nude on the bed, her legs partially spread apart, her golden pubic hair fully exposed. Her face is sharply realized in the painting; anyone who knows Molly (and quite a few who don't) will recognize her. Her body completely fills the large canvas diagonally from upper left to lower right, in near life size. From the expression on her face, her lips, the light blush of her upper chest and the state of her nipples, it's clear that she's in a state of sexual arousal.
Awkward.
Roderick breaks silence. "Ahem. Well, very nicely realized. Beautiful brushwork, and your use of light and shadow is, well, inspiring. But I don't think Caspar David Friedrich is noted for his nudes."
"Of course he isn't, silly" says Natasha. "He's just inspires me."
Anna is frowning. "I don't think German Romantics used sex toys," she comments.
"Is that what it is?" says Molly, referring to a pink bullet-shaped object depicted on the bed near her right hand.
Megan giggles. "Looks just like mine!"
"I don't remember this at all," says Molly, frowning. "And I don't have a sex toy."
"It's Megan's" says Natasha. "I borrowed it."
"Ew" says Anna.
"When was that?" says Megan, who looks as confused as Molly.
"When you slept over back in August. You left it out when you fell asleep."
Back in Roderick's room, Molly just wants to get under the covers and hide. Roderick joins her, and snuggles.
"Roderick?" says Molly, a little muffled under the covers.
"Hmm?"
"I'm so embarrassed, I just want to hide."
"I don't blame you."
"I've never done anything like that."
"I believe you."
"And I don't own a sex toy."
"Right, it's Megan's."
"And if I did want to do something like that, I surely wouldn't use Megan's sex toy."
"Yes, I can understand that."
Silence, for awhile.
"Roderick?"
"Yes."
"What do you think of the painting."
"I think you look beautiful."
