Page 31 of Paint Eater
“What’s the talentless lump going to do while we create?” Nisha asked, pointing at Logan, who was just standing by the side.
Jay muffled a snort of laughter as Logan raised his eyebrows sarcastically, pointing at his camera.
Nisha raised hers back. “Well, make sure you get me from my good side.”
“You have a good side?” Logan drawled.
Jay laughed again. The two of them had a strange relationship that seemed equal parts fierce love and merciless ribbing. Nisha talked about Logan as if she would protect him with her life—asking after him, hinting at his well-being—and then insulted him without blinking an eye the moment they saw each other.
Nisha pointed a finger at Logan’s face. “You’re one to talk. Why are your edges so uneven?”
Logan actually looked offended by that. His fade was meticulous, but the truth never seemed to get in the way of a good insult for Nisha.
“Okay, guys,” Jay said, raising his arms as if he were the one getting shot at. “Peace in the urban streets, please.”
They both shot him a sharp look, and Jay took a step back. “Okay. Never mind. Keep on stabbing each other.”
Jay let them squabble for a while as Logan took obviously unflattering pictures of Nisha, who was gorgeous—curvy, with her Indian heritage in full force in her long, thick black hair and smooth brown skin. Logan was crouching down low, though, getting shots from under her chin and ass, even as Nisha kicked at him.
Despite their arguing, Jay was sort of delighted to see this side of them—so playful and open. They interacted like siblings, that perfect mix of fight and loyalty that Jay hadn’t experienced, being an only—and pretty friendless—child.
“Okay, I’m starting without you,” Jay declared finally.
“Get off me,” Nisha shouted even though Logan wasn’t touching her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked towards Jay. “Ignore him. He’s just mad I’m here, taking up some of your attention,” she declared despite the fact that Jay hadn’t had the opportunity to even pay her any attention, what with their fighting.
Logan, however, made a strangled sound from behind them. “Shut the fuck up, will you?”
Nisha just made a snooty humming sound.
Jay facepalmed. “O…kay. Sure. You ready to start?” he asked Nisha.
“And why wouldn’t I be?”
Jay laughed. “Okay then, let’s go.”
Jay had already washed the wall, so the white they were painting on was as bright as it was going to get. The design was based on Nisha’s suggestions for the tattoo she had supposedly wanted but never gotten: a snake entwined with its hollow brother made of shed skin, like a reversed skeleton of something alive.
The piece, though detailed in its subjects, was pretty simple in Jay’s opinion. The composition was only concerned with making sure the snake and its counterpart were balanced in their interaction, one not confused by the twists and turns of the other.
It was fun, drawing with Nisha. He’d always enjoyed collaborating with others, and Nisha’s precise style and attention to detail counteracted Jay’s more wild manner of painting without reining him in so much that he felt stifled. She used more traditional paints and brushes while he went at it with spray cans first, and the combination of mediums made the piece far more dynamic than it would have been otherwise.
Logan, in a rather surprising act of mother-henning, made sure they drank water and was observant enough to tilt the battery-operated light so that their bodies didn’t cast a shadow, even though the sun was still out—one could never have enough lighting.
Nisha pulled out some prepared sandwiches for all of them when they were halfway done, and Jay got to observe her and Logan interacting again, both of them as entertaining as any movie.
“Let’s see the pictures you took,” Nisha said.
Logan immediately frowned at her. “No.”
Nisha stared at him for a long moment. “Have something to hide, darling?”
“Why don’t you shut up?”
“Why don’tyoulet us look at your pictures?”
“Why don’tyougo fuck yourself?”
And they were off again, Nisha trying to wrestle the camera from Logan as Jay chewed on his sandwich and cringed at the expensive piece of equipment being pulled between them.
