The Painter, post 2 by Mia

Th rain drummed outside. Cool and calming, a never ending symphony of tiny, water droplets fell onto already wet pavement. The air was tangy and delicious with rain. I closed my eyes. I was so exhausted, but even now I felt a dull happiness. My painting of Ocean hung on the wall, my latest break through in my path of art discovery. She look tranquil and beautiful. It reminded me a bit of the paintings in Italy, though not nearly as good. My breathed deeply, feeling the muscles of my flex and relax with every breath.
The phone rang shrilly and annoyingly. I waited to see if anyone would pick it up, but of course, my mom was waiting for me to pick it up. Therefore, I had no choice. I ran into the living room, full of it's colorful chairs and oddities.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
"Oh, hey Mandi."
"Hey, can I come over?"
"Ummmm...Sure. I think."
"Okay, good. I'm in your driveway."
I sighed. "Do you always drive somewhere before you ask if it's okay if you come?"
"Totally. See you in a sec."
I hung up. "Mom! Is it okay if Mandi comes over?"
I waited fro the response. "YEAH!" My mom shouted back. She was deep in architectural thought. "Is she here?" My mom asked.
"She's Mandi, of course she's already here."
"That girl needs to learn how to--"
But just then, the door burst open to reveal a completely different Mandi than the one I had known.