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Who is this sassy lost child
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Joy of joys, here came the new arrivals. Maria was her usual party hard-y self, and would probably be lucky to remember anything that transpired in the next few hours by the time she got up in the morning. If only Raina could say the same.

She could have spared some friendly greeting for Johnny, maybe, but honestly Raina wasn't in a Johnny-wrangling mood right now. Truth be told, she kind of wanted to just go home. Bailing now would be admitting defeat though, and if she came home too early her parents were sure to catch on to the fact that something had gone wrong and then they'd want to know all about the party and Raina would have to come up with some excuse for Darius's behavior that didn't involve alcohol and whatever else he'd bothered to shove into his garbage disposal of a body for the night. Raina would sooner dance naked in front of the rest of the partygoers than cover Darius's ass, so that was out of the question.

Instead, she just shook her head and kept walking until she felt a comfortable distance away from the crowd, where she and Wayne could maybe have something resembling a civilized conversation. Or not. She was feeling wound up and annoyed and just reckless enough to do something somebody would regret just now, so who knew.

She glanced back at Wayne and jerked her head towards a park bench, unspoken question hanging between them.
"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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I Know What My Fortune Is · After the Dance