First Time for Everything (34 page)

“Oh, stop it. You’re perfect arm candy for me.”

Max scoffed. “Now I know why you talked me into this.”

She grinned, not even the slightest bit ashamed. “It wasn’t for my health, bub.”

Because she wore ridiculous high-heeled boots with the costume, she took them off to drive, and he ended up holding them in his lap like a purse dog. He pointed out that Logan would never hold Storm’s stuff for her, but Sasha ignored that.

The parking lot of the Seattle Center was full, so they had to drive around a bit before Sasha found a parking spot on the street over. Max would have felt super awkward about walking in like this, except he spotted someone in a Superman costume, and a woman dressed up as some anime character, and just about no one even bothered to look at them. Dressing up was nothing special around here.

Except some people did look at Sasha’s awesome Storm, and she got some comments, most along the line of “all right” and “awesome.” Sometimes he’d get a friendly nod in passing, but clearly he was second fiddle to her, and he was really okay with that. Sasha liked attention. She was always the flashier and more aggressive of the two of them, even when they were little kids. He still teased her about getting sent to the principal’s office for punching out Todd when he’d bullied Max on the playground, but that was also why he adored her. You didn’t ever let go of a friend who could drop the biggest kid in school with one punch.

In fact, Max was pretty sure that’s why he wasn’t bullied much now. Sasha had a bit of a reputation at school, mostly that she was “crazy,” which she totally wasn’t, but no guy ever wanted to articulate they were afraid of a girl, so crazy was the easiest tag for them to live with. As a result, though, no one wanted to cross her, and since he was her BFF, that meant steering clear of him as well, even though he was a gay nerd, which was total bully catnip. In many ways, Sasha already kind of was a superhero. He wished he could claim the same thing.

The comic con was more crowded than he thought it would be, although he didn’t know why. He’d heard it was big, read articles about it, and yet it was one of those things he just didn’t grasp until he was completely in the middle of it. Max was glad it was all a little blurry, because he refused to wear his glasses (Wolverine didn’t need glasses), and he couldn’t wear contacts (he tried, but he even felt those soft daily wear ones in his eyeballs, like tiny plastic splinters that just wouldn’t go away). His nearsightedness probably spared him from a full-blown panic attack. Had he ever been in a crowd this large before?

There seemed to be an endless array of tables and booths, ranging from comic publishers to movies hoping to garner interest from the nerd crowd to computer software companies hoping to sell their new special effects or illustration technology. The place smelled like food and coffee, courtesy of the overworked concession stand.

Sasha, of course, was thrilled. She squeezed his arm and made a small noise of excitement. “This is awesome! Where should we go first?”

“You remember I’m not the greatest navigator right now, right?” He pointed at his naked eyes, in case she missed the subtext. He was glad he wasn’t wearing his claws at the moment, because only in retrospect did he realize he could have poked his own eye out.

“I wasn’t asking you to lead the way, two eyes,” she replied. “I was just asking for a suggestion. You must have one of those.”

“Well, Cara Wilkes is here, isn’t she? We should find her.”

“Good idea.”

Cara was the writer of several of their favorite comics and probably the most famous female comic writer of the current era. Not that there were a whole lot in the mainstream comics, ’cause there weren’t, which seemed weird in this day and age.

As they walked through the crowds, passing assorted tables for a variety of comic publishers, writers, and artists, Sasha continued to get compliments on her Storm costume. But Max began to wonder if it was only because she was cute, because they passed some real hardcore cosplayers who made them look like kids at Halloween. There were guys in full Stormtrooper gear who looked like they’d just come from the set of a
Star Wars
film, and a Chewbacca who could have passed for the real thing. Then there were the impressive-looking Borg, the woman in the Wonder Woman battle outfit, and several realistic-looking zombies. Max was glad he wasn’t entering any costume contest, ’cause he’d lose so badly it wouldn’t even be funny. Sasha might be in with a chance, though.

There was a line for Cara, which figured, so while Sasha held their place in line, he wandered off to a nearby booth that a comic store had set up to sell their wares. They had lots of hard to find stuff, including endless boxes of comics, many dating from way before he was born. It reeked of that weird smell that old books and comics got, something like ink and dry rot. He couldn’t afford much—he did have a budget—but he loved looking through them all the same. Some of the old covers were crazy, and the story titles even more insane, although the stories themselves were rarely the good kind of crazy. There were a few exceptions.

He was perusing an X-Men miniseries he was unaware of (it wasn’t like there weren’t a million of those), when he heard a guy say, “Cool Logan. Is that your hair, or a wig?”

Max looked around and spotted a boy at the end of the table, looking through a box there. He seemed to be about his age, a bit on the short side, but lean and kind of cute, with deep brown eyes behind round super nerd glasses that reminded him just a little bit of Harry Potter. Probably not a coincidence. “It’s my hair,” Max finally said, suddenly aware he was staring. “It took a buttload of styling gel and epoxy, but we finally got it to stay. I’m sure it’s gonna be hell to wash out.”

The guy smiled, and it made him even cuter. “We?”

“Storm there did my hair,” he said, gesturing at Sasha. “Every time I tried to do a Wolvie thing with my hair, it just looked like a bad fauxhawk.”

The guy gave Sasha an appraising look. “Awesome costume. Is that her hair too?”

“No way, that’s the wig. She’d never dye her hair white.”

“It looks cool on her, though.” He glanced back at Max. “I’m Taylor, by the way.”

“Hi. Max.”

“Not Logan?” Taylor then gave him a cheesy smirk.

Was that a joke? Max hoped so. “Only when I’m angry.” He was so inexplicably nervous he couldn’t tell. He wiped a sweaty palm on the leg of his jeans before resuming his search through the box of comics. Max wasn’t sure what he was looking for now; he was pretty much only focused on Taylor from the corner of his eye.

“Hey, are there any
Transmetropolitan
s in that box?” Taylor asked.

Max was secretly glad to have a task. “Not yet.
Transmetropolitan
was awesome.”

“I know, right? I’m trying to collect as many of the past issues as I can afford. I mean,
Sandman
’s totally out of my price range.”

“What about
Hellblazer
?”

Taylor grimaced and held out his hand to make a so-so gesture. “Some of the runs were okay, and some weren’t. I have most of the good ones in trade form.”

Max nodded. “Fair enough. I have
Transmetropolitan
in trades.”

He could see Taylor appraising him openly, and Max wondered if he was gay. Could he be so lucky? It just seemed like he was checking him out. Although really, Max wasn’t sure if he was doing it. He didn’t have a lot of experience with it. “What are you looking for?” Taylor finally asked.

Max was forced to shrug. “Just browsing. If I come across something I can’t live without, I’ll know it.”

Taylor openly grinned, and it lit up his face. He did have an attractive but slightly goofy smile. “Probably the best way to do it.”

Max glanced down at the box so Taylor couldn’t see him blushing. He wanted to continue this conversation, he didn’t want Taylor to wander off, but he didn’t know what to say. There was a long moment of silence as he brainstormed, and finally he asked, “Have you been to lots of comic cons?” Almost as soon as it was out of his mouth, he winced, as it sounded as stupid as hell.

Still, Taylor must not have minded, because he answered. “A couple. Not as many as I’d like. You?”

“This is my first.”

Taylor’s grin, which had faded, came back with a vengeance. “This is an awesome one to start with. It’s not like one of the huge ones.”

“What? This seems pretty huge to me.”

“Well, yeah… but San Diego is cray. You hafta get tickets way in advance, or you’re sorry.”

Max shook his head. “I can’t imagine.” And he couldn’t, because the crowd in this place was starting to make him feel claustrophobic.

“I went once, and it was kind of a nightmare,” Taylor said, running a hand through his short black hair. “I was just a kid, my dad took me, but I was just overwhelmed. Too many people, too weird, too many lines. As first comic cons go, it wasn’t great.”

“I bet.” Max looked at him openly, and Taylor returned his look. Interest, or just friendly? Damn it, he couldn’t tell. And it wasn’t like you could say
“Hey, are you gay?”
casually. Maybe if he wasn’t so shy or afraid of rejection, it would be easier, but that wasn’t the way he was.

Just then, he noticed Sasha waving at him. She was next up to Cara. Taylor noticed, and said, “It looks like you’re wanted, Logan.”

“So it does,” he agreed and gave Taylor a smile before turning away and joining Sasha near the head of the line.

As soon as he was up there, she leaned in and whispered, “Who’s the adorkable guy?”

“Taylor. We just got to talking while he was looking for
Transmet
.”

She was nodding and smiling in what Max found to be a very cryptic manner. “He was totally checking you out.”

Max almost looked back but was kind of afraid to. What if Taylor was still there and caught him looking? Worse yet, what if he wasn’t? He couldn’t decide which he’d hate more. “Was he? I couldn’t tell.”

She nudged his shoulder with her own. “Go on, Romeo, follow up.”

He stared at her in shock—she knew him, right?—but never got the chance to say anything, as they were finally able to see Cara.

She was just as friendly as he had hoped and was happy to sign their comics and talk about Claw, the old school superhero she’d resurrected and made genuinely good again. (Well, before the character was passed off to an overpraised male writer who made him a joke again, but that was a complaint for another time.) They had to move on because there was a line, but she was great and didn’t seem to mind talking to them at all. It was kind of nice when your heroes didn’t disappoint you.

They had just walked away from the table, sorting out their comics, when Sasha said, “Look.”

It took him a second, but he saw what she meant. Taylor was standing near the vendor booth where he’d been talking to him, seemingly waiting for him to return. Max’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. Had he really stuck around for him? That seemed hard to believe. No, strike that, impossible. He wasn’t the type of guy anyone ever waited around for.

Sasha took Max’s arm and said, “Ooh, I have to meet this one.”

Before he could protest, Sasha was dragging him toward Taylor, giving him no say in the matter. Of course, he should have expected it, but even after all this time, her boldness occasionally surprised him.

“Hi,” Taylor said to him.

“Hi,” Max replied.

“I’m Sasha,” she said, not waiting for an introduction.

“Hi, I’m Taylor. Awesome costume. That was Storm’s best era.”

“I know, right? She never should have lost the Mohawk. So, Taylor, tell me about you.”

He smiled faintly. “What d’ya wanna know?”

“The usual stuff. Where do you go to school, how old are you, do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend, are you a serial killer, that sort of thing.”

He chuckled. “Oh yes, the usual. Well, I’m seventeen, I go to Jefferson High, I’m not a serial killer, and I don’t have a girlfriend or a boyfriend.”

Sasha nodded, as he’d passed the test so far. Max couldn’t help but notice he hadn’t reacted at all to boyfriend, which was a good sign. Maybe. It was possible he was just a really laid-back hetero. “So, would you like to have coffee with my friend Max here?”

Oh God. He should have known she’d just go for it. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Max hoped he wasn’t turning beet red in embarrassment, but he quickly glanced at Taylor to try and read his mood. He was smiling.

“I’d love to, if he’s interested.”

Now Max’s heart started to race. So Taylor
had
been checking him out! His instincts weren’t wrong. That was nice to know, as he was never sure. Max looked at him and forced a chuckle. “I’d… I’d love to. If I wasn’t currently being embarrassed to death.”

Sasha clicked her tongue and slapped him on the shoulder. “If you used your words more, I wouldn’t have to intervene.” She slid her arm out of his grasp, patted him on the shoulder, and added, “You boys play nice. Storm has some strutting to do.”

“U
MM
…,” M
AX
said, but that was as far as he got, as Sasha did indeed strut away, fluffing up her Mohawk. He looked at Taylor and said, “Well. Um.”

Taylor was just grinning. “How did a nerd like you end up with a friend like her?”

Max shrugged and couldn’t help but smile. “We grew up together.”

“Man, why couldn’t I have grown up in a decent neighborhood? Seems all my neighbors were either younger or way older than me.” Taylor gestured with his hand, a sweeping forward movement like he was a waiter showing him his way to his table. “Should we get some coffee before she comes back and punishes us for lying?”

The funny thing was, she just might. What else were best friends for? “Sure. So you’re, uh….”

“Gay?” Taylor replied. “Yep. I’m guessing you are too?”

Max nodded, feeling himself blushing, although he hoped Taylor couldn’t see it. With his skin tone, it was possible. “I wasn’t sure how to ask.”

Taylor shrugged a single shoulder. “NBD. I’m just glad you are.”