Outdrawn

by Deanna Grey

Whoever said it's lonely at the top never met Sage Montgomery, never experienced her dedication to camping out at the peak of success.

Being patted on the back by fifty thousand people was enough to make anyone forget they're not supposed to be worried about others' opinions.

Liana was too uptight to relax on the sofa, not since Amaya told her it was thrifted. Thrift store finds were always infested with bed bugs or lice, according to my sister. Bonus points for both.

My angsty, lesbian mermaids helped me afford to move out on my own for the first time since graduating.

Liana's specialty was bacteriology. I didn't understand much more than she'd probably be one of the first to know if there was a bacteria-caused zombie apocalypse on the horizon.

Tonight, we'd planned on eating ramen and half a watermelon. Now, we'd dine on appetizers worth our water bill.

Plus, not being able to afford healthcare was a mood killer.

Our time did more than overlap—it tangled. I held my tongue about the tangling, because it's too weird to explain how we had gotten close enough to draw in each other's sketchbooks but never exchanged phone numbers. It's too weird for even me to fully comprehend.

I couldn’t help but imagine her in my story as a mermaid, a reflex I’d have to fix immediately.

I used to think I was in love with him before I realized he was simply a beautiful man who knew how to listen and express his emotions in a sincere, non-threatening way.

I frowned at the mention of double shipping and almost backed down, because shit, two issues in one week? I’d wanted a faster release timeline, but not one that was fucking light speed.

Noah's work helped get me through my fog a few months ago. At rock bottom, I'd turned to her comic, and it'd been the best thing about my day. My obsession with her characters was embarrassing to admit, especially after I'd spent years putting distance between us. The art world liked to compare our work because our styles were similar, but something deep inside me knew she had the potential to be better. My growing love for her story proved that.

The conflicting emotion I got from seeing how soft she looked versus how hard she actually was would never cease to confuse me.

The softness of her outfits mirrored the feeling one would get from watercolor paintings.

“We got off on the wrong foot, Noah,” I said. She laughed. “And here I was, thinking I'd give you a handmade friendship bracelet after this. I had bloody knife charms and everything. You know, just in case we still wanted to stab each other in the back later." That kind of sounded cool. I'd wear a bracelet like that in a heartbeat, though I wouldn't admit it to her.

“Sorry.” I quickly moved out of her way, avoiding eye contact because of a sudden heart arrhythmia. When was the last time I’d gone in for a checkup? “You know, I would have never guessed you knew that word before today,” Noah said. I smiled. “I just learned it, so figured I’d give it a test run.” “I’m the first recipient? What an honor.”

Whenever I ended up dozing off at my desk, drooling over my pieces, Sage would draw in my sketchbook. I didn't notice at first. There'd be unassuming roses in the corner here or napping cats there. It took her drawing a comic panel of a girl sleeping on a desk with flowers growing from her afro for me to realize what she was doing.

Was Noah some sort of cartoon princess? Because how else would she have some random animal on her side after only a week of working here?

"A light tint of green? I have a meeting today. A very important meeting, where I have to sit across from Sage Montgomery and be seen as better than her in every way. I can't be better than Sage in every way if I look like Shrek."

"Hey, if it means anything,– I always thought Shrek was good-looking."

"Him becoming human and having all those people fawning over him was proof. The facial structure was there, they were just too focused on the green—and probably his smell. Personally, I still preferred his ogre self. All that green meant nothing–"

Lots of things made me happy: art, perfectly seasoned rice, bike rides downtown, and now, apparently, making Sage smile because of something silly.

Completing sketches with Sage felt like sharing secrets—intimate in a way that set my fingertips on fire.

I'd always had a good relationship with loneliness. Lonely had been my safe place. In silence, no one expected anything from me. That lack of expectation meant I could be myself. Of course, it got hard, but that was a trade-off I'd been willing to make. Or, at least, I thought it was.

"His name's Harold." She spoke quietly. "What?" "The duck out back, he's Harold," she said simply. "And don't worry, I didn't get rid your distractions…even though I should have."

"If you got rid of my ducks, I would have gotten rid of the billion and one necklaces you bury Leisah in."

"You wouldn't dare. It's part of her character design now. You can't change the character design, or the story loses half of its meaning." I snorted at the outrage. She ha...

"Noah.” I dragged out her name in a playful tone. The syllables felt good on my tongue. Had her name always felt like this? Like something I could repeat and never get bored of?

I was starting to wonder if one kiss would fix whatever was going on right now. We’d known each other for too long not to have kissed, right?

"You'd come another night? With me?" "Why not? That's twice the opportunity to get a soft pretzel." Noah laughed. "We've passed at least two pretzel stands, and you haven't even glanced at one." "I'm building an appetite," I insisted. "Uh-huh." She smiled like she was in on a secret.

"You're special," she mumbled. "Pain in the butt special." "What was that?" "Nothing. I was just wondering if you were going to teach me or eye my butt some more." I opened my mouth and closed it as she gave me a knowing smile. My cheeks were on fire, and I loved it. It was official—flirting with Noah was ten times more fun than arguing with her.

This feels wrong and Floridian, two things I strive never to be."

Mutual destruction didn't sound too horrible if, for a moment, I was able to touch her. Wait, what the hell was I going on about?

“Besides, it’ll be fun. I’ve never ridden on the back of my own bike.” I blinked, quickly coming back down. “What?” Her eyes danced. “I’m going to teach you how to ride my bike.”

“I didn’t even know about bisexuality.” I laughed. “Which is weird, right? I thought you had to choose something. I always heard don’t be greedy, pick a side, but, I never thought of bisexuality as greediness. I thought it was inevitable to fall in love with so many kinds of people.”

“I hate that anyone made you feel less than human,” she said in a low voice. “If I’ve ever done that--“ “No,” I cut in. “Never. You’ve made me feel a lot of things, Pastel, but never less than. You’ve never seen me as less than. If anything, I was more when I didn’t deserve to be.”

"No, actually, I like this idea better. Which character of yours is your favorite?"

"It's Rae." "The goldfish?" Noah frowned. "He's not just a goldfish. He's a loyal companion, a little guy surviving in a mermaid community that often overlooks him because of his size. Plus, he's cute. Every cute character gets extra points in my book."

"And yet everyone still loves her. Her mentee always stands up for her. Her captain still believes there's potential there. She's almost forty and doesn't have everything figured out. I like that she's trying. I like that people love her even though she's not the best she can be yet. It gives me hope that…I can be loved even though I'm not at my best yet. Even if I never live up to that potential, you know?"

"Damn it, Noah. How the hell am I supposed to root for you two if I don't know the real story? Is the girl toxic or not?

"When I don't know what to do to make people feel better, I cook." Noah placed her hands on her hips, studying her handiwork like she was still unsure.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I never go past the first speed.” “Me either,” she said.

lolwut

"Kind of wish you were grinding against my face instead."

I was and still was a serial hobby abandoner.

"I know the words to Hot Cross Buns," she said. "But who's crossed?" "Oh fuck, are you serious?" I asked. "I thought my teachers were saying crossed all this time." She laughed now. "Oh, my God."

"Because I know I want to be with you," she said firmly. "I know I want to see your smile and hear your voice every day. I know I want to help you feel seen and heard. I know not a day goes by when I won't work hard to give you everything you deserve. I know that you want me to have everything I deserve. You're never going to make things easy. You'll never sugar coat things. I know when we're together, we are petty assholes, but we're also something beautiful, something far bigger than the art. I can't believe I'm saying this, but Noah, we can be bigger than the art. I know that."