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Who is this sassy lost child
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Cristóbal was startled out of his swirling thoughts by a the clearing of a throat and a hand on his shoulder, surprisingly from two different sources. He jumped a little, he could admit that, but presences that revealed themselves once he looked up turned out to be much more welcome company than he'd been expecting (given that he'd most been expecting to find Coach Parkinson hot on his trail to berate him for just leaving class before the period ended).

"Hi Georgia Lee," he said out of instinct, before fully registering what she was saying to him. He liked Georgia Lee, appreciated her driven spirit and dedication to her busy schedule. He'd always found her pretty too, in an untouchable sort of way, the kind of pretty that was almost certainly out of your league and undoubtedly too busy for you anyway and knew it. Georgia Lee was the kind of person who was going places, in other words.

Cristo tilted his head back to look at his other friend upside-down. "Hi, Maxim."

His ears were burning slightly, now that he knew at least two people whose opinion of him he really cared about had seen him lose his composure like that. He was thankful that his tanned skin tone mostly hid his embarrassed flush. The anger was still there too, a hard knot in his chest that weighed down on him unpleasantly. He tried to concentrate on breathing steadily.

"What are you guys doing here?" He asked, though that was obviously a stupid question. They both went to school here, why wouldn't they be on the grounds? The real question that he meant to ask was, "Why did you come over to me?" The answer there was perhaps a bit obvious too, given that Georgia Lee had clearly witnessed what just transpired between Cristo and Will, and Maxim looked as though he had a few questions of his own. Cristo patted the grass on the side that Georgia Lee wasn't occupying, indicating that Maxim should sit as well. He certainly didn't feel like getting up right now, and Georgia Lee seemed to be taking a break from her run.
"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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Empire of Dirt · Athletics