The Gods of Song and Poetry

Chapter 53 - Memories

"Hey!" I interjected. "I could really use a coffee before we go on. Anyone want to wait in line with me?"

"Sure!" Isis stood up before I did, and with a perky smile she held her hand out towards me. I accepted the help standing since it would have felt even more awkward not to, but I disconnected as soon as I was up.

"Anyone else?" I asked the crowd.

The people who were paying attention simply shook their heads. Kala wasn't one of those people. She was in a conversation with some girl she had recognized from a class she had taken the year before. In fact, she hadn't said much to me tonight.

Isis kept trying to walk beside me as we made our way to the coffee bar. It was hard because even though the shop was huge, tables holding boxes of comics in their protective bags snaked back and forth over the main floor. Bookshelves, spaced sporadically throughout the store, stood sentry between the tables, creating a narrowing of the path. The aisles were also populated by small groups of patrons sporting geek-chic and holding hot drinks in defiance of all the signs begging them to confine their beverages to the small coffee shop counter area.

"So, your friend doesn't seem to like me very much." She was trying to talk to me as we wound around people.

"How can you tell? She's hardly talked to anyone besides that girl from her class."

"Not that one. I mean Tara. She's kind of judgy."

I didn't respond until we got to the coffee line and I could turn to talk to her more comfortably. She was pulling her lip up in disgust, making her dusty-green septum piercing sit at an odd angle. I wondered if it was glow in the dark. I'm pretty sure her gauges, bracelets, necklaces, and rings were. I'm not sure this is what she had in mind when I asked her if she wanted to go to a concert.

I put on my best clueless face. "What makes you say that?"

"Every time I mention my job she just has to make a comment."

"Well...see, that's the thing...you mention it a lot. Maybe you should, you know, talk about something else so people can get to know you."

"It's not like I advertise my modeling. It just comes up in conversation."

I had decided to text Isis the day after we ate at Aldo's. We communicated for a week or so, then she asked me if I wanted to go to the student art gallery to "see my exhibit from a summer class." Naturally, I assumed she was an artist and wanted to show me her work. We met on campus and walked to the gallery together. The whole way she kept talking about how excited she was for me to see "her pictures."

When we found the small section of the gallery Isis was "displayed" in, as she kept saying, I saw about four dozen nude photographs of her. They were mostly black and white. Some were in color. Many were just Isis, but others had one or more models joining her. There were tasteful nudes with classic poses as well as some NC-17 content. "Displayed" didn't begin to describe a couple of them. Pictures with rose petals and sheer curtains sat beside elegantly framed images of Isis bound and gagged in what had to be awfully uncomfortable positions. It's not that I have anything against nude art, but I thought we would be viewing her work. What better way to get to know a person? Instead, I was looking at her naked from more angles than I had ever seen anyone besides Kelly. It just...took me a little by surprise.

I tried discussing the artistry of the pictures with her, but all she wanted to talk about was which poses had made her sore and whether or not any model in the picture with her, or the photographer, had been aroused. After we went through "her" exhibit, she pulled me out of the gallery saying, "The rest of the junk here is just a bunch of pottery and crap, some pictures of flowers, boring stuff."