His Work of Art (3 page)

She stopped but didn't turn around. The rise and fall of her shoulders told him her breathing was fast and she was far from calm. He walked toward her holding three comics, making sure the ones he chose were all DC so she had little argument about his preferences. He lined them up on the bins of comics for sale.

“I wasn't trying to offend you. Like it or not, it's how female superheroes are drawn.” He pointed to the comics. “Look at some of your favorites: Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Huntress. In addition to being kick-ass heroines, they have sexy bodies. There's no denying that.”

Reese stared at the covers of the comics. He shrugged. “I drew what I'm familiar with. It's not like you gave me much to go on. These are first sketches, ideas. We can work from here.”

She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes. He waited, unsure if he was supposed to say something.

When she reopened her eyes, she looked at him. “You're right. It is standard, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Lyrid is not a sex object.”

“I wasn't suggesting she is.”

Reese's eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. “But you drew her like every man's fantasy.”

“Not every man's.” As soon as the words left his lips he wished they hadn't. While he could appreciate a huge rack on a superheroine, it wasn't his thing. But he didn't really want Reese to question what his thing was. He waved his hand as if to erase what he'd said. “I drew her in the vein of other comics. It's open for revision. However, that's what sells.”

Reese's shoulders dropped. “But I want to be different,” she said quietly.

“So let's talk about what you want. What you expect. You said I nailed Alexis. Doesn't that show I can handle this?”

She nodded. “When do you have some free time to meet and talk about it?”

“I'm free now.”

She looked around the shop. “I know this place isn't fighting off customers or anything, but aren't you at work?”

“My mom owns the place. We can order pizza and work here if it suits you.”

Her easy smile came back. “If you're sure it's okay.”

He scooped up the comics he'd laid out and headed back behind the counter. He'd successfully talked his way into a partnership with a writer. Now all they had to do was learn to listen to each other.

B
y the time the pizza arrived, Reese's stomach was growling loud enough for Adam to be staring at her. They left their work on his drawing desk and took the pizza to a small table behind the counter. Adam flipped up the lid on the box, and the steamy smell of gooey pizza hit her. She shouldn't have skipped lunch.

She reached for a slice as Adam walked in the back. He returned with some napkins, which was good because she now had sauce dripping on her chin. “Thanks,” she mumbled around a mouthful of hot cheese. Just as she wiped at her chin, a blob of sauce landed on her cargo pants. She rubbed at it, resigned to another stain.

The corners of his mouth lifted, but he said nothing. He leaned against the counter in front of the register. They ate in silence through their first pieces. They'd worked a long time to figure out how to approach this partnership.

No matter what, collaboration was rough.

Adam wiped his hands on a napkin. “Do you think this is going to work?”

“What? Us?” Probably not the best wording.

He nodded.

“As long as you give up your boob fixation, yeah.” She blew out a heavy breath that puffed her bangs away from her forehead. “It's harder than I thought. It'd be cool if we could just do a Vulcan mind meld, and you could see inside my head and know what I'm picturing. If I had any artistic skill, I'd attempt to draw it myself. But I find stick figures challenging.”

“So Lyrid can't have big tits. I get it. You can stop telling me. But I'm not going to draw her like a guy either.”

The jab hit home. More times than she cared to think about, people had commented on her appearance. “I don't want her to be a guy. But real women don't have a two-inch waist to go with their ginormous boobs.”

“Lyrid isn't real. She's a character. A fantasy.”

But why did the fantasy always have to be sex goddess? “Can we settle on a happy medium?” She squinted at him and searched for the right words. “Curvy, but not voluptuous?” She pointed at him. “And no spillage.”

“Spillage?”

She cupped her hands in front of her own small chest. “Spillage. Popping out of a ridiculous outfit.”

Adam dropped his pizza back in the box and went to the drawing table. He flipped up his sketch pad. An intense expression took over his face and Reese stared. She couldn't look away. His long fingers moved quickly with a pencil in his left hand. She knew that when he was finished, smudges would be smeared on the edge of his palm as well as on his fingertips.

It was like she was no longer in the room. The bell over the door jingled as a customer came in. Adam's shoulders tensed, but he didn't look up. He definitely didn't like to be interrupted. Reese quickly wiped her hands clean and walked around the counter. “Hi, can I help you find something today?”

Adam shot her a look like she'd lost her mind, but she continued.

The customer, a guy about her age, lifted a shoulder. He didn't appear any more convinced than Adam was that she could take care of a customer. “Nah. Just looking.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any help.” She hung back, still in the aisles to make herself available. She tried her best to ignore Adam's presence.

The guy looked up from a bin of comics. “Do you have the latest
Amazing Spider-Man
?”

She wanted to glance back at Adam to check, but she also didn't want to interrupt him. Seeing his new sketch of Lyrid was exciting. “I believe it came in today's shipment. Let me check.”

She went to the bin where the comic should be located. Sure enough, there it was. “Did you need anything else?”

“Yeah, I need some more plastic covers for my collection.”

Reese wove around to the other side of the store and grabbed a packet of sleeves for him. “Just one pack?”

“That'll do.”

She walked back to the counter to ring him up, but Adam was already standing behind the register. She laid the purchases on the glass and let Adam take over. She returned to the pizza, which was now cold.

When the customer left, Adam stood by her side and bumped her shoulder with his. This was the closest they'd been and she liked it. “Trying to steal my job? I told you my mom owns the shop. I doubt she'd choose you over me.”

“Funny. I was being helpful. I want to see the new Lyrid.”

He stretched across to the other side of the register, where he'd tossed his sketch pad. “Here.”

Before taking the pad from him, she wiped her hands on her pants and took a deep breath. If this was still wrong, their partnership might not work. How many times would they want to go back and forth? She held her breath and flipped the pad over.

The sketch was rough, with smudges and eraser marks, but it was better. Lyrid's boobs were still a little on the big side and her waist too small, but she looked a little sturdier. Less like a model in a mask and more like a fighter.

“Let me guess—smaller chest?”

“No, well, yeah, if I had my choice, it might be, but you have a point. If I want everyone to be willing to buy, I have to appeal to all kinds of readers, including men.” She studied the drawing. “Can we make her costume not a bustier? But I like her arms showing. Great muscles.”

Adam took the pad back, swiftly erased some lines, and shaded in a vest.

“That's good. I like it.”

“You don't sound sure.”

Was she? This was so new. Why the hell didn't she just decide to write a book or something for her project instead of this huge undertaking? Because this was what she wanted in life. She wanted to write comics. She wanted to represent the millions of girls like her who wanted heroes and heroines that were like them.

“I'm sure. I think.”

“Revisions are still possible. I have lots of erasers.”

Even if the sketch wasn't the right one, she'd definitely chosen the right partner. She needed to take lessons from him on flexibility. “Tell me about your superhero guy. The one I saw last week.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What's his story?”

“I'm an artist, not a writer. He doesn't have a story.”

“Everyone has a story. You have one. I have one. It colors everything we do and see and say. There's a piece of us in everything we create.” She handed him the pad back and began to clean up their dinner mess. “Tell me something about him.”

“He's not white.”

Adam hated that the first comment he made was about race. Reese turned and leaned against the table she'd just cleared of their dinner. She pursed her lips before speaking. “So race is important.”

“Yeah. There aren't enough people of color in comics.” The statement was true, but not the reason.

“Not enough, no. But we have Green Lantern and Cyborg.”

This was solid footing for them, arguing the merits of comics. “Marvel has Black Panther. And let's not forget the new Ms. Marvel, who is a double whammy as a woman and a person of color.”

“If you think you're going to convince me Marvel is better based on this argument, you're out of luck. I get the importance of full representation. I
am
a woman. That's why the portrayal of Lyrid is so important. So your guy, he's black?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess what I'm really asking is if he's black just because that's how you envision him or if you made him black because it's part of your character building.”

And there went the footing. “You can't take race away from character. It's part of who you are.”

“It doesn't have to be.”

He snorted. “Only naïve white people say shit like that.”

“Hey.” She stepped toe to toe with him, tilting her chin a notch. Irritation blazed from her blue-gray eyes. “I am not naïve. I believe race is only as important as you make it in your life.”

He wanted to cross his arms, needed to, but the action would make him come in contact with her. She was close enough that the movement would cause his forearms to brush her chest. That couldn't lead to anything good. “You have no idea what you're talking about. No one considers your race first because you're white. Everyone considers my race first because I'm not.”

“Not everyone.” A flash of hurt crossed her face, quickly replaced by anger. “But people do look at my gender first. Mostly men, but it's the same idea. They don't consider whether I'm intelligent or kind. They want to see how big my boobs are, how thin my waist is, how shapely my ass is. The quality of the rest of me is shaded by that.” As she spoke, her hands waved out at the sides of her body emphasizing everything she said.

Those motions almost distracted him. She had a point, a valid one, but he didn't want to have this discussion with her. He didn't want to have it with anyone.

She stopped moving. “I don't let that run my life. It mostly doesn't even take up space in my head. Only when I'm faced with something like a guy in a comic shop who assumes I'm buying for my boyfriend.”

“I never did that.”

“No, not you, which is why I spend my money here. My point is, I don't walk through life worrying about how other people view me. I just try to be the best I can for me.”

Adam tried to do the same, but it didn't always work. He took a step back. “All I'm saying is that my guy is black. I picture him that way, but it's also who he is. His race colors his perception of things.”

She inched closer again. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

“That's his story. That's the part you're telling me doesn't exist, but it does. You know it, in here.” She poked his chest.

His heart thumped so hard he was sure he'd need CPR any minute. Why couldn't she take a hint? As much as he wanted to step back again, he also wanted to step forward. But he knew better.

Reese took mercy on him and stepped away. She walked over to the table and flipped through his sketch pad. She found a picture of the character they were discussing. “I want his story. Even if we don't make it a book, I want to know.”

The way she looked into his eyes stirred something in Adam, but he didn't know quite what. It was like she was asking for much more than a character's history. Adam tore away from the staring contest that pulled at him. “So, write it,” he mumbled.

“I can't write his story. He's not mine.”

Adam reached over, took the book from her hand, and ripped out the page. “Here. Now he's yours.”

Although she accepted the paper, she rolled her eyes. “Fine. I'll create a story for him, and then I'll kill him off.” She smirked as she tucked the page into her bag in between books.

“You can't kill my character.”

“He's mine now. You gave him to me, so I can do whatever I want.”

“You sound like a little kid.”

“I need to get home. You have enough to start working on panels now? If we can get the pencil drawings done, that would be great. I should have the origin story finished this weekend. “ As she spoke, she put away the folder that she'd brought out. She faced her bag the whole time she talked. “Are you free at all this weekend?”

“Saturdays are pretty busy around here, so that probably won't work.”

“How about Saturday night after you close?” She slung her bag over her shoulder and turned.

“Sure. Where do you want to meet? My roommate's a musician, so my place is usually loud.”

“Noise doesn't bother me.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

“My roommate's my mom, but she works weird hours. Even if she is home, she'll probably be asleep or whatever.” She hitched the bag higher on her shoulder. “We could meet at a library or something, but it's always too quiet there.”

“If you don't mind me coming to your place, I'm cool with that.”

“Sure.” Pulling a pen from a thigh pocket, she wrote her address on a napkin leftover from their dinner. “I'll be home all night, so come by whenever. I have a paper to write, so I'll be chained to my computer.”

“Paper on what?”

“Anything. It's such a pain in the ass. This professor thinks she's cool by leaving everything open-ended. The only direction we have is that we have to write a critical analysis of something.”

“So write about something you care about. Like why people got so upset last year when Marvel revealed a female Thor.”

“First, stop trying to sell me on Marvel. Second, no analysis needed there. People are dumb.”

“You want to talk about dumb, should we discuss some movies made about DC characters?”