His Work of Art

Chapter 1-2

Reese Carter walked calmly to her car, nerves warming her from the inside out so much that she didn’t even notice the wind whipping against her cheeks. Her stomach churned and her hand shook as she opened her car door. She started the engine and sat, settling her nerves and waiting for the car to warm up.

She couldn’t believe she’d done it. She’d asked Adam to illustrate her comics. When she’d first walked into Comic Universe months ago, she had just prayed that she wouldn’t find an asshole behind the counter who would talk down to her because she had a v****a.

Getting to know Adam had been an unexpected treat. Not only did he never question her choices, except for her love of DC, he also made her feel comfortable in his family’s shop. Then last month, she’d seen him at the drawing table, totally immersed in what he was doing.

His hands moved in long, quick strokes, and intense focus filled his face. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt him, so she crept close to peek at the drawings. She’d been only able to catch a glimpse, but she knew they were good.

Today was simply a confirmation.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A simple text:

I thought you might want my number too. Adam.

The text made her smile and she thanked him before saving his contact information. Then she dialed Julie’s number.

“Hello.”

“I did it. I talked to Adam and he’s got the first book now.”

“Adam who?”

“Cute comic shop guy?”

“Oh.” Julie stretched the word into four syllables. “So what did he say?”

“He said he’d look at the story and get back to me.” She exhaled and could still see her breath. “But I think he’s going to do it. I hope he does. He’s good.”

“I’m glad. When do you think you’ll be ready for me?”

“I don’t know. It depends on how fast we get moving. After Adam decides and we start work, I’ll have a better idea.”

“Okay. Meet you after work tonight?”

“Sure.” They disconnected and Reese shivered with anticipation. Her project was moving forward. She’d graduate on time.

The heater in her junky car finally rattled to life and the air blew warm. She shifted into reverse to pull out and tried to convince her stomach to settle.

Handing over a not-quite-final draft of her comic worried her. The last time she’d done that, her ideas had been stolen, and she felt so betrayed that she’d stopped writing. Her adviser pointed out repeatedly that part of being a writer meant putting her work out there. Overcoming her fear was a huge part of why she’d chosen this as her senior project.

Getting closer to Adam would be a definite perk.

Over the months, she’d dropped not-so-subtle hints that she’d like to go out with him, but he was either oblivious or uninterested.

She didn’t get the impression that he was oblivious.

Trying not to let that last thought get her down, she drove home to change before going to work at the coffee shop. Adam had consented to at least look at her story, which meant that he was agreeable to the idea of working with her. So that was something.

At home, she raced up the stairs to grab her uniform shirt. The atmosphere of Grind was pretty laid-back, which was why she didn’t mind working. She could wear jeans or her favorite cargo pants, but she was required to have her hair in a ponytail and wear the brown polo shirt with her name tag.

She’d been working at Grind for three years now, and some of her polos had seen better days. The one she slipped over her head was faded and the color suddenly struck her as the same shade as Adam’s skin. Warm and soft, like a teddy bear. She ran her hand to smooth the shirt before pinning her name tag on.

“I thought you already left for work,” her mom said from the doorway.

“Uh, no. I had a quick errand to run after class and I forgot to pack my shirt.” She gave her mom a quick peck on the cheek and said, “I won’t be too late.”

Her mom scanned the bedroom and shook her head.

Over her shoulder, Reese called, “I’ll clean it later.”

But they both knew it was a lie. Ever since she and her mom had moved into their own place ten years ago, Reese hadn’t cleaned her room. Well, she’d picked up her dirty laundry and occasionally vacuumed, but her room was never spotless. When they’d moved into the first rinky-dink basement one-bedroom apartment, Reese vowed she would live the way she’d wanted to, not how her father had expected.

She swallowed hard. She couldn’t afford to give him any space in her head right now. Her life was heading exactly where she wanted. Her life. Independent from everyone.

Her comic book was the first real step. Stories never let her down.