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Who is this sassy lost child
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Cristo hadn't meant to actually doze off completely, but it seemed he had. He was nudged back towards awareness by that sense that you get when someone is next to you, like a brief shadow flickering past his closed eyelids. He started somewhat, but fortunately not too much. That would have been embarrassing.

Someone had taken a seat at the table opposite him. Not anyone he recognized immediately, nor his mom having arrived and come to collect him, like he'd briefly thought. Had somebody been planning to set up at this table and he'd taken it? He hoped not.

"Erm..." Cristo absently rubbed the back of his hand over his eyes to clear them as he regarded the other boy. If he hadn't accidentally stolen somebody's seat, he couldn't imagine what this guy might want from him. "Do you..." No, 'do you need something' might come off as confrontational if he opened with that.

"I mean, can I help you? I'm not in your seat, am I?"
"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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Land of Milk and Honey, Don't Fail Me Now · Memories from the Past