Justin spends every day of the next two weeks up on Thayer, catching rides with whomever he can, sometimes staying after his ride leaves and then calling Lance to come pick him up. Lance bitches about that, but he knows why Justin can't call his folks, and so he always goes and gets him.

Justin also pores through the Phoenix. He'd checked the day after he saw Guy in Black and found out they'd gone to see Angry Salad, a local band that sounded really rock. So he looks for shows that Guy in Black might go to, and then checks to see which are all ages. He stands outside a few of them, but has no luck.

Finally, about three and a half weeks after he saw him the first time, he gets a second look. This time he and Lance are both in Tom's Tracks, killing time. Guy in Black comes in alone, still dressed in black, and heads over to the record bins. Justin freezes for a moment, just watching, and then pulls himself together and makes his way over there. On the way, he seems to lose his usual cool and grace, and he stumbles and trips over people's feet, despite the fact that it isn't that crowded. He is red in the face by the time he gets near, so he pauses, flipping through some records in a bin, pulling one out at random. He pretends to be fascinated by it, though the name of the album hasn't even registered, and checks out Guy in Black out of the corner of his eye.

The Guy appears to be checking him out, too. And then he says, "I would never have guessed from looking at you that you're a Debbie Gibson fan."

Justin looks down at the album in his hand, closes his eyes a moment, and then says, "Well I think Debbie Gibson is highly underrated. Her work on this album really shows a move into edgier, less mainstream music..."

He is grinning by the time he finishs spouting bullshit, and so is the Guy, who answers,"Yeah, but I think that Electric Youth really was her best, the purity of her sound is just amazing..." Justin is close to laughing now, and the Guy's eyes, a dark, chocolatey brown, are twinkling. He says, "I'd have to disagree with you on that... But why don't we talk about it over coffee."

The Guy's eyes shutter a bit there, and he gives Justin a quick onceover. Justin gets ready to talk his way out of this, to make it seem innocent and straight on the off chance he was wrong and the guy isn't gay. Though really, his 'dar is rarely wrong. The Guy just grins again, and says, "Actually, I've hit the wall on my Debbie knowledge here. I'm afraid it would just be me going on about how much she sucks."

Justin shrugs, pushes his luck, and says, "Gotta admit, she's not my strong suit either. But we could talk anyway. I mean, if you need that many records I bet you're a DJ, right? You can tell me all about that."

He waits, hopeful, looking as sexy as he can. The Guy opens his mouth, shuts it, blinks, then opens his mouth again and said, "Um, ok. Yeah. Let me just pay for these and we can grab a coffee at the Ocean. Sound good?"

He barely waits for an answer, just walks over to the counter guy, greets him like a friend. Justin runs to Lance and tells him that they are going to grab coffee and could Lance just hang out for like an hour or so and that he'll meet him at the Brown bookstore. Lance bitches a bit, as expected, but Justin just tunes him out. He squares his shoulders and makes himself walk slow and hipster cool over to where the Guy is handing over cash to the counter dude. When the transaction is finished, the Guy nods to his friend and then tilts his head to Justin and heads down the stairs. Justin follows.

The Guy has a name, it turns out. Chris is an RISD student, older, a second year in the program. He DJ's at a couple of local clubs to make extra money. Justin is impressed by all of this, though he tries not to show it. He admits to being younger, but makes it seem like he's in college, without actually saying so. They talk music, mostly, and art, a little, though Justin knows nearly nothing about it. He flirts rather outrageously to make up for it, and Chris, though more restrained, flirts back. The conversation is winding when Pretty Boy comes in. He spots Chris and comes right over, and Justin has to try hard not to scowl. Chris introduces him as JC, and Justin smiles and shakes hands and says "Nice to meet you" as politely as he can with his teeth clenched. JC grins at Chris, and chats a bit vaguely with Justin, before heading over to the counter to get his coffee.

Justin sighs, happy that JC seems to have taken off. He isn't sure what's up with those two, but he wants Chris's attention all to himself. He gets it, too, once JC ambles away. "So, um, yeah. What do you draw, mostly? I mean, what is your, like, focus at school."

He blushed a bit, knowing that he sounds like a big dork. Chris grins. "My, like, focus is modern portraiture. Drawing people, getting them down on paper."

"Why?" Justin asks the question quickly, then winces at his lack of smoothness.

"I like trying to capture a person in 2-D. The best portraits aren't just a picture of someone. They can tell you so much about the subject. It's the whole 'picture worth a thousand words' thing. A really good artist can make you understand who a person is, what they are thinking and doing, what their life is like, just a portrait. I want to be able to do that."

Just watching him talk, Justin wants to jump him. Chris moves his hands, sketches out his words, making his point in gestures. He's so animated, so passionate about what he does. Justin wants that, wants to feel that sort of connection to something. And Chris in motion is just sexy.

They are still talking about art, or Chris is talking and Justin is nodding and trying not to stare at Chris' lips and making mental notes to study portraits, when Lance comes in. He stops at the doorway for a minute, then stalks over to their table.

"What the fuck, Justin!"

Chris cuts off what he was saying to look up, and Justin gives Lance an aggrieved look. "Lance, dude, what's your problem?"

"My problem, Justin, is that it's been two hours since you promised to meet me, and I need to get home. Some of us actually do our homework. And my mom's gonna be pissed at me."

"Fine." Justin bites off the word. Fucking Lance! He turns to Chris, who has narrowed his eyes, studying them. "Chris, I need to go, Lance is my ride. But, um, could I get your number? We could get together sometime..."

Chris had been enjoying himself. Justin knew a lot about music, and he seemed to be enthusiastic about art, if not really knowledgeable. Plus, the boy was hot. He had these amazing blue eyes that he knew how to use, heavy lidded one minute, bright wide the next. And Chris kept wanting to rub his hand over the peach fuzz of Justin's shaved scalp.

So between the relatively interesting conversation and the totally hot boy, Chris was having a great time, and starting to plot out how to keep the conversation going long enough to get them to dinner or into bed. What he hadn't expected was for some weird kid, who looked awkward and sort of girly, to come storming over demanding that Justin leave so that he could go home and do his homework. And the Lance kid mentioned his mother. He starts putting things together, and his two and two are adding exactly up to four. He tests a bit, "Hey Lance, sorry to keep you waiting. Justin and I got caught up in our conversation, man. You know how it is."

Lance seems surprised Chris talked to him. "Um, yeah. It's ok, but Justin and I need to get back."

"Yeah, I understand. Homework, your mom. You a senior? What schools are you applying to?"

And Justin looks like he wants to die when Lance replies with enthusiasm, "Oh yeah, I'm a senior. I've applied to Brown and Dartmouth and a few schools in Virginia, you know..." As Lance keeps going, Chris turns to Justin and pins him with a look. He doesn't like getting played, and he lets Justin know it. But Justin only looks sorry for a minute, and then he turns on this mega-watt smile and bats his baby blues. It shouldn't work. Chris knows better than to get involved with a teenager, a high school teenager. It does, though, because when Justin finally manages to shut Lance up and the two turn to leave, Justin has Chris' phone number in his pocket.


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