Lydia hides in the art room

As the school bell rang, a naked Lydia Deetz searched frantically for a hiding place.

First she tried to re-open the door to the girl's locker room but it was no use. Claire Brewster was obviously holding it shut and there was no way Lydia could get back in that way.

Then she started exploring the doors on the same side of the hallway. But they were all locked except for one at the far end. By then Lydia started to see other students enter the hallway. Students who turned to look at her and exclaimed, "Hey! Isn't that --"

She hurriedly opened the door and found that she had stumbled upon an art class. The teacher was a woman that Lydia had seen around the school but did not really recognize.

"It's about time you got here," said the teacher, a dark-haired woman who looked like a brunette version of her own stepmother Delia. "I don't know what kind of qualities they emphasize at the modeling agency but obviously punctuality is not one of them."

"I'm sorry," said Lydia. "I don't understand."

"It figures," said the art teacher. "Girls of your generation never understand what it means to be punctual."

"No, I get that," said Lydia. "It's just that --"

"Oh, be quiet and spare me your endless rationalizations," said the art teacher. "Just get on the platform and assume the position."

"I beg your pardon?" asked Lydia.

"You have posed for an art class before, right?" asked the art teacher. "Oh, whatever. It's obvious from your lack of a robe that you're a first-timer. Oh, well. It's not like it's rocket science. Sit down on the platform over there and face the class. And keep your hands at your side. I was going to start you off with a more modest pose but since you came in late --"

"There must be some mistake," said Lydia. "I'm not a model."

"In that case, why are you naked?" asked the art teacher. "I can't think of any reasonable excuse for a girl your age to be as naked as you are unless she is a model. And a girl who goes around deliberately exposing herself to her fellow students on a whim deserves to be expelled."

"Okay," said Lydia, swallowing a lump in her throat. "I am a model."

And as her cheeks burned with embarrassment, Lydia walked over to the platform and tried to ignore the many smirks of the female art students who were watching her. Lydia just hoped that none of them knew her...