Fan Art

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Authors: Sarah Tregay
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Den, where we met up with Challis and the art-geek girls for two hours of video game entertainment. We’re walking across the parking lot in search of nourishment because Challis is hungry.
    “Hey,” I protest, even though I do suck. “I saved you from a stomper or two.”
    “Only because you got in the way.”
    “We gotta go,” one of the girls says. “See you in school?”
    Challis pouts but gives the group of them hugs. Eden does the same. I just say good night. After they leave, I stop at my car and pull Challis’s folder with her comic outof my backpack. I give it back to her. “I’m sorry,” I say.
    Her face crumples. “Rejected?” she asks.
    “Yeah, but I’m going to try again. I got a scan of it.” I attempt to sound positive.
    “You think they’ll change their minds?”
    “Maybe. Some of the staff really liked it—I know I did.” I tell her, not mentioning why they rejected it.
    “You’ll talk to them?” Challis asks, a flicker of hope in her blue eyes.
    “I will. Monday.”
    She tucks the folder under her arm and leads us in the direction of Mexican fast food. Eden buys a round of sodas, plus a plate of nachos for the three of us to share.
    “Wow, thanks!” Challis and I say, practically in unison.
    “No problem,” Eden says while she pays. “The least I can do for my two best friends.”
    Challis and I exchange glances as if to ask, We’re her best friends?
    I shrug and take the paper cups off the counter. I hand one to Challis and she leads the way to the fountain machine. Like a gentleman, I let her go first. She starts with Mountain Dew and proceeds down the line of levers until her cup is full.
    My stomach feels queasy just thinking about the taste of that. I go for a regular old Pepsi before we choose abooth by the window.
    Eden soon joins us with a plate piled high with chips, cheese, and toppings.
    We dig in.
    “May I read your story?” Eden asks Challis. “I heard it was über-maginificent-amazing.”
    Challis shoots me a look, as if she is blaming me for Eden’s interest.
    I hold my hands up like a traffic cop.
    “Okay, okay,” Challis agrees. “You can read it. Just no greasy fingers.”
    Eden beams, wipes her hands on her napkin, and then holds them out for inspection.
    Challis nods.
    Eden then opens the folder as if the contents were more holy than the Gutenberg Bible and starts to read.
    I can tell where she is in the story by the sounds she makes. “Oh no” when Tony is teased; “aw” when he talks to his dad; and a squeal followed by “OMG. They’re sooo cute!” at the end. After which she bounces up and down like she needs a visit the little girls’ room.
    “Awesomesauce!” she announces. “It’s really, really good, Challis.”
    I think I see a gloss of near tears in Challis’s eyes.
    But she just smiles and says, “Thank you.”
    Eden turns to me. “Did it get rejected because of the LGBTQueness?”
    I process the alphabet soup of her question and admit to half the reason it got rejected. “Sorta. Yeah.”
    Challis reaches over and takes the folder back, a muffled string of choice vocabulary spilling from her lips.
    “I’m gonna try again,” I say.
    “Thanks,” she says weakly, as if she thinks I’m powerless.
    “But it’s sooo good,” Eden whines. “Challis, you’re so amazingly talented. . . .” She trails off, thinking. “We could start, like, a petition or something!”
    Challis gives me another one of her I-blame-you-for-bringing-this-up looks.
    But Eden keeps on babbling, ticking things off on her fingers, “The GSA students, the Mathletes, the Japanese club—” She stops when Challis touches her hand. A blush rises to her cheeks.
    “Thanks,” Challis says. “But it’s okay.”
    On the way home, Eden points me to a shortcut to her neighborhood. I follow her directions, turning left and right when she tells me to until I recognize her street.
    Eden points to a cheery yellow house with lots of lights on. “You know

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