Page 2 of Paint Eater
Jay felt himself light up. “You’re getting a degree in photography?” He grinned excitedly.
Nisha snorted, and Logan glared at her again before saying, “No. Business and Economics.”
“Oh, yikes,” Jay said without thinking. “I mean, notbadyikes,” he tried to backpedal quickly, “just, you know,hardyikes, as in, yikes, that sounds hard.” Jay gave him a smile and shrug that said, ‘If-there-were-a-cure-for-just-blurting-things-out-I-would-have-taken-it-by-now.’ Or, at least, that was what it was supposed to say. Jay didn’t know how successful smiles and shrugs were at transmitting complex messages.
“It’s fine,” Logan said.
“Um…so, a photography project?”
Nisha, when Jay looked at her, seemed to be enjoying herself, which wasn’t a great sign. Not that she seemed to take routine joy in seeing him embarrass himself, but there was something about this particular situation that appeared to be mysteriously entertaining her more than it should. Jay, who was never naturally so, was starting to get suspicious.
Logan took a beat too long to reply to Jay’s question, and Nisha took the opportunity to jump right in. “He’s trying to photograph urban scenes. You know, buildings and stuff. So I thought of you.”
“Me?” Jay asked, perplexed. This was New York City, and they had all grown up there. It wasn’t like he had special insight into the place.
“Yes, you. What with your graffiti hobby.”
Jay snorted at her phrasing, to which Nisha raised an eyebrow. They’d gone to the same school because Jay had gotten an art scholarship, but both Logan and Nisha were far more well-off, and maybe it was no wonder that Nisha thought Jay might know some interesting places to photograph. Hedidknow where all the best graffiti was—the stuff outside of Bushwick where all the tourists that wanted to see street art went.
Jay turned to Logan, eyebrows raised. “You wanna photograph graffiti?”
Logan shrugged again. “I haven’t thought much about it.”
Jay nodded, taking that for what it probably was—that Logan, even if he’d thought about what to do for the project, wouldn’t want Jay’s help any more than he’d wanted to spend time with Jay in high school.
Jay smiled, offering Logan the easy way out. “I can just give you a list of places if you want, so you can, like, go without spending time with me or whatever.” Even as he said it, Jay realised that was a weird way to phrase it, but it was the truth, so…
Both Nisha and Logan gave him an odd sort of stare before Nisha looked at Logan, obviously trying to communicate something, although Jay couldn’t guess as to what.
“Shit,” Logan said, “I’m sure you have better things to do than cart me around Brooklyn.”
“Are you assuming all the good graffiti spots are in Brooklyn?” Jay smiled.
Logan rolled his eyes, not taking the bait.
Jay made a wild gesture with his hands that didn’t convey much. “It’s fine. I mean, I like going to those spots anyway. I dunno what you’re looking for, exactly…?”
“Places with character,” Logan said more decisively than Jay would have expected, considering Nisha had said Logan didn’t know what direction to take the project.
“I mean, sure. It’ll be fun. If you wanna.”
When Jay had been eleven, back when he hadn’t been diagnosed and he still tried to be funny all the time, even when it strained, and the bullying was getting really bad, his mom had long talks with him aboutstanding up for himself. About how much he was worth, and how creative and special he was, how full of life, how intelligent. She’d told him not to take any shit from anybody. She’d told him that forgiveness was important, but when Jay had tried to make friends with the kids that were being the cruellest, she hadn’t looked proud or happy.
There was such a thing as beingtooforgiving, apparently, and Jay couldn’t help but cross that line.
When Logan nodded, when he said, “Sure,” like it didn’t matter either way to him, Jay couldn’t help but remember his mom’s sad, serious face. It wasn’t like Logan had done anything wrong. He’d never been actively unkind, or teased him, or pushed him around, or called him a clown or a fag, or even made any promises that he couldn’t keep. It was Jay that had betrayed himself with his imaginings, as he’d often done in life.
Jay was twenty now. He had people who he could call friends, and a job, and a dream he was pursuing. He wasn’t that high school kid anymore, even though people still said he acted like it.
And yet, Jay knew the feeling taking over him then, that desperate urge to please, those instincts that dulled his sense of pain so that he’d be able to take more damage, so that he’d be able to withstand more without complaint.
The truth was that he didn’t know Logan. Didn’t know if he was the kind of person to take advantage of something like that.
Jay had a feeling he’d know soon enough.
**********
SOFIA
