Page 3 of Colossal
What would Eric think if he saw them?
He’d probably wonder how I drew him before I knew him.
I’m wondering that myself.
The main character in every illustration I’ve ever completed is a giant named Tarek. Most people would expect a giant to be slow, but no. Tarek has the reflexes of a master ninja. He protects the meek and feeds the poor. He can also rip someone’s head off with a swipe of his hand. Or knock an entire house to the ground.
Eric is the closest thing I’ve seen to my favorite fictional character.
In fact, he might be better, because I can touch his huge paw, with its blunt, dangerous-looking fingers. I can smell the pine and musk of his cologne. I can see the pricks of his beard already shadowing his jaw, even though he likely just shaved this morning. I can hear his breath struggle to remain even. I can see the seams of his shirt and jeans straining to keep all of him contained. My goodness, he’s a superb being.
Eric looks down at my fingertip as it continues to trace the back of his hand. “Seriously, where did you come from?” he asks, swallowing hard.
A wave of discomfort rolls into my tummy. I knew I would be required to talk about what suddenly landed me in public high school, I just didn’t expect it to be during first period. “Well.” I wet my lips. “About two years after my mom died, my father met a woman online and we moved here to be with her. She has two daughters, too—and we’ve all been homeschooled until now. But my homeschool teacher got hit by a car and my stepmom couldn’t find a suitable replacement, so she enrolled me and my two stepsisters here to finish our senior year.”
The gorgeous giant blinks at me. “Damn. I don’t know what to apologize about first. Mostly, I’m just sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks.”
“Andyour teacher. Is she—”
“Dead as a doornail, yes,” I whisper, unable to keep the horror out of my tone. “She was walking out of an iHop. One minute, she was eating pancakes. The next, shewasone.”
When Eric slaps a hand over his mouth, visibly trying to hold in a slightly horrified laugh, so I pat him on the meaty shoulder. “It’s okay. Marcella had a great sense of humor. She would have laughed, too.”
He takes a few seconds to gather himself. “So, you’re here for the rest of the year?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be sitting right next to me like this for five months.”
“Is that okay?”
“Are you kidding me?Yes. I just don’t usually get this lucky.”
There’s a fluttery sensation in my throat. “You think you’re lucky to sit next to me?”
“Mostly.”
My hope wanes. “Mostly?”
He nods. “There goes my concentration, Fairy Tale. I’m probably going to fail this class now, thanks to you and those distracting stockings.”
I rear back a little. “My stockings are distracting?”
“All of you is distracting,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his reddening face. “I can’t believe I’m saying all of this out loud, but you’re really easy to talk to.”
“I can’t imagine why. I don’t really talk to anyone but the voices in my head.”
He raises an eyebrow.
I wink at him and go back to pretending I’m taking notes.
“Oh man,” he says, shaking his head. “You’re funnyandbeautiful. Save some assets for the rest of us, why don’t you.”
I’m too shocked and overcome to look at him.
This perfectly formed brute with the quick wit thinksI’mfunny.
