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Who is this sassy lost child
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Cristo looked at Maxim blankly for a moment; whatever he'd been expecting Maxim to have on his mind, it hadn't been that. "Abby?" he repeated. "Well... we're best friends. We've been friends since elementary school."

And is that all? a nagging little voice in the back of his mind asked.

Cristo absently started plucking blades of grass and twisting them between his fingers, an old nervous habit. Was Maxim trying to get at something else here? Did he think Cristo... what, had a crush on Abby? Of course he didn't. He'd know if he did, surely.

Wouldn't he?

"Why do you ask?"
"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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