{"id":3578,"date":"2010-10-15T09:30:19","date_gmt":"2010-10-15T09:30:19","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/?p=3578"},"modified":"2011-03-29T03:10:05","modified_gmt":"2011-03-29T03:10:05","slug":"with-violet-light-part-ii","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/?p=3578","title":{"rendered":"With Violet Light, Part II"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Welcome back, friends! You all read Part I<\/a>, yes? If not, go do that.<\/p>\n

Now! Let us once again gaze upon the beauty of Paul “Cool Jerk” Horn’s<\/a> crazily amazing illustration as we read\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthis is the week where it truly becomes a central piece of the story.<\/p>\n

A note before we launch into Part II: though this is the official One Con Glory<\/a><\/em> sequel, I also wrote a little bridge story that takes place between the book and “With Violet Light.” It’s all about the idea of retcon, the importance of saying a certain handful of words to someone when you feel a certain way, and the secret behind “Men’s Pocky.” For reals. You can read it in this issue of Grok<\/a>.<\/p>\n

Okay. Back to Julie.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u201dSarah Kuhn<\/em><\/p>\n

**<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153But we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re Facebook friends<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I try to affect a beseeching sort of look, but it has little to no effect on the tiny, blonde wall of hostility in front of me.<\/p>\n

She shrugs. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have 3,747 connections on the FB. I am not acquainted with most of them personally.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She returns to shelving Invincible Iron Man<\/em> hardcovers, her three-sizes too big Green Lantern shirt hanging precariously off her spindly frame.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153But you added me<\/em>,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I whine, crossing my arms over my chest. Jesus. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m about two seconds away from stamping my foot, a la Jubilee on a fireworks-fueled tantrum. <\/p>\n

There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s that shrug again. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You probably have Comics Bee as one of your fan pages, right? I make a point of adding everyone on there. Encourages excellent customer relations.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I can see how that would be very\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6effective,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say, fighting like mad to keep the sarcasm from leaking into my voice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m a regular here. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve had actual conversations. I explained my theory on why Nova could totally beat Hulk in a fight and you agreed with me<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She pauses, cocking her head to the side, affecting the appearance of a freckle-faced robot scanning her way through all of her past human interactions. I can practically see bits of 11001110 data flying through her brain. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hardly a unique theory,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she finally says. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve had that conversation at least 67.5 times.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6 .5?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I was interrupted one of those times by a pressing back issue mis-numbering fiasco. Hours of my life gone, thanks to incompetent help.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She shakes her head and her insolent little ponytail wags back and forth. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Like I said,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she says, popping the last hardcover into place on the shelf, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know you. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know your friend and I have no interest in meeting him. Good-bye.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I turn on my heel and stomp across the Comics Bee\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s rather spacious quarters to Layla. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s perched on the counter, chatting easily with the cute, spiky-haired guy manning the register\u00e2\u20ac\u201dEvan Chang, the shop\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s other assistant manager.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah, Julie,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, eyes sparkling with amusement. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Am I hearing this right? Are you really trying to hook Bitchy McContinuityNazi up with a boyfriend<\/em>?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all for her,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I grumble, inclining my head towards Layla.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So she says,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d says Evan, brushing a stray piece of lint off his form-fitting\u00e2\u20ac\u201dand strangely logo-free\u00e2\u20ac\u201dblack t-shirt. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I must say: I was hoping you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d stopped by on a non-Wednesday so we could continue our ongoing debate over the series finale of Battlestar Galactica<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I shrug. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t admit that it was seriously epic, so\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He smirks a little. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcepic\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 means \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcshoddily slapped-together and fueled by someone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s hallucinogen-spiked spirit quest,\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 then I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m with ya. Anyway, I actually think I can help with your little love quest.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He leans forward conspiratorially, a grin spreading over his impish face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re having a signing tonight\u00e2\u20ac\u201dTerry Temperton, local guy. Writes and draws Angst Sundae<\/em>?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I know it,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Black and white, heavy inks? Lots of people feeling all their feelings?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Affirmative,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d says Evan. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153As you might imagine, Jill hates that stuff. But she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s being forced to work the event and will basically be drowning me in her misery the entire live long night. If someone<\/em> were to bring her a like-minded, superhero-loving geek to talk to, I bet she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be eternally grateful. Well, sort of. \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcGrateful\u00e2\u20ac\u2122 looks different on Jill than it does on normal people.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s perfect!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Layla shrieks.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d be happy to provide the introductions and engage them in sexily scintillating conversation, just to get the ball rolling,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he continues. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And if this somehow results in Jill being in love and out of my hair\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6well, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll<\/em> be eternally grateful.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n

Layla rubs her hands together with glee. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I can already see the nerd-sparks flying!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Be here at 7,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d says Evan. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, and Julie: While I admire your dedication to geek-centric romance, Layla tells me you just left a gorgeous, half-naked man all alone in your apartment.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He shakes his head disapprovingly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Priorities, woman.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, a dead asleep<\/em>, gorgeous, half-naked man. And I left him a note\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6wait a second.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I raise an eyebrow at Layla. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How do you know about the half-naked part?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

She has the good grace to blush. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sexually-deprived and your bedroom door was a little bit open,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she blurts out. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I might\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve sneaked a peek while you were in the bathroom.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She blinks at me, all Bambi-esque innocence. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And, um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6damn, Jules. That chest belongs in a museum somewhere.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Evan\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s eyes widen with interest. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Did you take a picture?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Layla crosses her arms over her chest, trying for \u00e2\u20ac\u0153indignant.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d It only lasts a few seconds. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6yes,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she admits, shooting me a guilty look.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Layla<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I sputter.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m an artist!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she says defensively. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s my duty to capture beauty wherever I see it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Maybe try seeing it in naked people who aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t my boyfriend,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I grumble.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153This is, by far, the girliest conversation the Comics Bee has ever played host to,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Evan says bemusedly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oooooh!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Layla turns to him, the very picture of puppy-like eagerness. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So I guess I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m a Charlotte<\/em>. But which one is Julie?!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He studies me thoughtfully. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Miranda.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I plant my hands on my hips. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And Jack keeps trying to stick me with the Emma Frost label. Why am I always the bitchy one?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Evan and Layla exchange an all-too-knowing look. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d says Evan, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153if the white pleather bustier fits\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

**<\/p>\n

Jack is still dead to the world when I return home. As usual, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s somehow managed to annex the entire bed territory in his sleep, one arm flopping haphazardly over what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s supposed to be my pillow, legs entangled in the clump of bedding, drool pooling next to his half-open mouth. <\/p>\n

I think he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s maybe the cutest thing I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve ever seen.<\/p>\n

I ease myself onto the two square inches of mattress that aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t taken up by his fully-sprawled form and gently brush his sleep-matted hair off of his face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hey,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I whisper. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sleeping Beauty. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re snoring your entire visit away.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

No response.<\/p>\n

I move in closer, resting my head on top of his pillow-stealing arm. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Come on,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say, raising my voice a tiny bit. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Otherwise I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m just gonna watch you while you sleep. In a totally creepy way. And darling<\/em>\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I press my forehead to his and affect a terrible Transylvanian accent. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Your neck smells like freesia<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mrph.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d One eye pops open. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You actually read those books?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he asks, voice husky with sleep.<\/p>\n

I bring my index finger to my lips. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll never tell. \u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He lets loose with a mighty yawn, his features eventually resolving themselves into a lopsided grin. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Hi,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, all lazy warmth, his half-lidded eyes slowly taking me in. I brush my fingertips down his cheek, studying the angular planes of his face. I feel my entire body relax\u00e2\u20ac\u201dhappy to be so close to him, surrounded by quiet and soft sheets and a glorious lack of distractions.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wish it could be like this every day,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I murmur.<\/p>\n

He studies me intently, suddenly looking a bit more awake. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6not impossible.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Right, right, as soon as they finally invent that Trekkian transporter machine.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I cup his face in my hands. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You look better. More rested. But, you know\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6when you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re wiped like this, we don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to do the weekend visit thing. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want you to feel obligated.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Seriously? \u00e2\u20ac\u02dcObligated?\u00e2\u20ac\u2122\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He raises an eyebrow, trying to keep things light. But hurt flashes over his face, his eyes clouding over. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s, uh\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6romantic.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sorry\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m sorry.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I bite my lip. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not what I\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6anyway.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I plaster a bright, hopeful smile across my face, racking my brain for a quick fix. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m trying to get better at\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6girly stuff.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I sit up in bed and hold my hands out in exaggerated \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I am about to give an amazing presentation\u00e2\u20ac\u009d style. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153For instance!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I exclaim, a little too excitedly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I never mark things on the calendar\u00e2\u20ac\u201dnever! But I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve made note of July 17\u00e2\u20ac\u201da mere month from now\u00e2\u20ac\u201din permanent ink and do you know why?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He props himself up on an elbow and looks at me quizzically.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153July 17: GinormoCon! Our anniversary<\/em>!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I grin triumphantly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Or, uh\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6the anniversary of the first time we\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6you know.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, the humor returning to his eyes. He sits up and runs his fingers through my unruly mop of hair, smoothing out errant tangles. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And the second time,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, leaning in to feather kisses along the line of my jaw. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And the third. And\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay, okay,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say, my neck going all goose-bumpy. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Does that still count? As our anniversary?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He pulls back and locks his eyes with mine. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

My face flushes with pleasure. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So certain! How do you always just\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6know<\/em> these things?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What things?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Romantic things\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6love things\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6oh my God<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d My eyes widen, realization dawning. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re totally a Star Sapphire<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

His lips twitch. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Baby\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I sit up very straight, not really hearing him, my brain hooking into the meat of my thesis with ruthless, single-minded intent. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You always know how to be all direct and no-bullshit and somehow it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the most romantic fucking thing ever,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153All you need is a power ring and a super-boobsy pink spandex costume\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6er, sorry, violet<\/em> costume, except those outfits always look pink to me, and then you can properly display your, um, love power.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He cocks a teasing eyebrow, a wicked grin spreading over his face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m pretty sure my\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6love power is on display right now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I blush, heat creeping up the back of my neck. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, I can, um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6feel that. But this is serious!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I clasp my hands together, and look at him pleadingly.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I want to forsake my rageful Red Lantern ways!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I insist, my voice taking on a desperate, shrieky quality\u00e2\u20ac\u201dlike Black Canary and Siryn on a combined scream bender. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Teach me the way of the Star Sapphire! Teach me how to be chill and romantic and\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6and\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6love powerful<\/em>!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Unable to hold back any longer, he bursts out laughing, then gathers me against him and presses his lips to my forehead. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll teach you tonight,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I made a reservation at Dante\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s and then I was thinking we could take a walk by the waterfront\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh. I\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6uh\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He frowns, brows knitting together. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Crap. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s way touristy, isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t it? Okay. New plan: your busted living room couch, Thai take-out from that place around the corner, and Shaun of the Dead<\/em> on repeat.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d His lips brush my earlobe. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Clothing optional.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That sounds\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6perfect,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I murmur, leaning into him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But we sort of have to go to this party tonight.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He pulls back, his face slowly falling. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Party\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, trying to mask his disappointment. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Like, on our only night together? Like, with people who aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t you and me?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He frowns skeptically. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is the fate of the world somehow dependent on us attending this party? Because otherwise, I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t see how it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s worth it.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Not the fate of the world, exactly, but the fate of\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6something.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I quickly fill him in on Layla and her Braidbeard-contingent sex quest. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Luckily,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I conclude, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got Evan in our corner. And unlike the vast majority of nerds, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s pretty savvy when it comes to interpersonal relations.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Evan\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6have you told me about Evan?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jack asks, fingertips idly tracing my collarbone. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s kind of a new friend,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Basically, the very model of an opinionated-yet-non-judgmental comics shop guy. Even if he is wrong about BSG<\/em>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He nods absently and I notice that he still looks more than a little bit tired.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t stay long,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say quickly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I just need to set up this potentially vomit-inducing love connection. Then we can come back here and hang out.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I lean in, brushing my lips over his neck, feeling the rhythm of his pulse quicken. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153In a\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6clothing optional environment.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just not sure about the comics shop\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6thing,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, his breathing going uneven as my mouth grazes his ear. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153With all the, um\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6fans?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

I pull back, my lips curving into a bemused half-smile. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Afraid of being mobbed, R-Pattz style? Aren\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t we<\/em> cocky.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I clap my hands over my heart and flutter my eyelashes, mock-swoony. <\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153OooOOOoooh!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I chirp, pitching my voice several octaves higher than necessary. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Is that Jack Camden<\/em>?! I totally have his last Tiger Beat<\/em> pin-up in my locker<\/em>! OH-EM-GEE SQUEEEEEEEE!!!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Stop that!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, doing his best to look stern. The effect is ruined by the sheepish grin playing around the corners of his mouth. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a valid concern.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Relax, heartthrob.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I ruffle his hair affectionately. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153This isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t your crowd. Super-indie. Most of them can recite the entire oeuvre of Chris Ware, but would never admit to owning a TV set.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You have such a\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6unique way of putting things, Red Lantern,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he says, the grin finally overtaking his entire face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Forget about the love power\u00e2\u20ac\u201dI think you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re pretty perfect as-is.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d <\/p>\n

I raise an eyebrow. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Neurotic?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He kisses the inside of my wrist. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sensitive.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Inappropriately opinionated?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Pressing his fingertips to my shoulders, he eases me onto my back. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Passionate.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Temperamental to the point of psychosis?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

He slips warm, gentle hands under my t-shirt. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6yes. But I find that kind of hot.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Perv,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I say softly, biting my lip in a useless attempt to stop smiling. His mouth drifts over my neck and finds that sensitive spot, sending little shivers coursing through my nervous system.<\/p>\n

\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mmmm\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6\u00e2\u20ac\u009d I sigh. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153See, this right here\u00e2\u20ac\u00a6very Star Sapphire-y.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\nHe grins, clever fingers sliding up my back to unhook my bra. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I do<\/em> look good in pink spandex.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n

Read Part III<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Welcome back, friends! You all read Part I, yes? If not, go do that. Now! Let us once again gaze upon the beauty of Paul “Cool Jerk” Horn’s crazily amazing illustration as we read\u00e2\u20ac\u201dthis is the week where it truly becomes a central piece of the story. A note before we launch into Part II: […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[403],"class_list":["post-3578","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-with-violet-light"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3578","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3578"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3578\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3578"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3578"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.alertnerd.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3578"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}