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Who is this sassy lost child
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They broke apart when Jae came to a halt a few feet away, but even with the lack of visibility it was glaringly obvious what was going on here.

He didn't have any right to feel hurt by it. He had left her in the first place. He was pretty sure at this point that he didn't even like girls like that, and he didn't want to remember what had happened between them in the back of the car. All of that didn't stop the painful squeeze in his chest.

Somehow it was worse that she apologized.

He couldn't make out Hazel's face in the darkness from this distance. She sounded scared. Startled? Or scared of him, specifically?

Jordan (Jae assumed it was still Jordan there and not somebody else that had come along, some other guy, and fuck him for any creeping thoughts of just like back home that tried to rise up because she didn't deserve that, especially not from him) didn't seem to have any greeting or anything Jae could snap at.

"Yeah," he said, haltingly. "Me too."
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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Gift for the Darkness · Northwest Cliffs