Collide Read Online Free PDF

as yet, seen her look embarrassed about anything, or shy. She was pretty up front with everything, which was why I adored her. So when she couldn’t meet my eyes and gave that little, shameful giggle, I almost told her I didn’t need to see what had made her feel like she couldn’t share it with me.
    “No, it’s not dirty,” she said.
    “Okay.” I got up and followed her down the short hallway to her bedroom.
    Jen’s apartment had been decorated in IKEA chic. Lots of spare, modern pieces that all matched and maximized the small space. Her bedroom was the same, painted white with matching teal and lime-green accents on the bed and curtains. Her apartment was in an old building, with walls that weren’t always quite straight. One, in fact, was curved, with big-paned windows reaching from floor to ceiling and overlooking the street. On one wall she’d hung several of her own paintings. On the opposite wall she’d hung several framed posters of prints even I, the art idiot, recognized— Starry Night, The Scream.
    In the center of those was a black-and-white photograph, maybe an eight-by-ten, in a thin red frame. The artist had painted over the photo with thick, three-dimensional strokes, highlighting the lines of the building I recognized as the John Harris Mansion from down on Front Street. I’d spent time looking at a lot of what people had determined art and wondered why on earth they thought so, but I didn’t have to spend a second pondering it about this picture.
    “Wow.”
    “I know, right?” Jen walked to the wall to stand in front of it. “Pretty cool, huh? I mean, you look at it, and it’s not like it’s anything special. But there’s just something about it….”
    “Yeah.” There definitely was. “And it’s not even dirty.”
    She laughed. “No. I just like having it in here where I can look at it first thing in the morning. Does that sound lame? Oh, God, that sounds totally lame.”
    “No, it doesn’t. Is this the only piece you have by him?”
    “Yeah. Original art’s expensive, even though he’d priced this pretty reasonably.”
    I had no idea how much pretty reasonable was and it seemed a little nosy to ask. “It’s nice, Jen. He’s really good.”
    “He is. So you see…that’s another reason why I don’t talk to him.”
    I looked at her with a smile. “Why? Because you like his art and not just his ass?”
    Jen snickered. “Well, yeah.”
    “I don’t get it. You think he’s superhot, you’re a big fan…why not just say something?”
    “Because I guess I’d rather have him take a look at something I’ve done and think it’s good without me gushing all over him. I’d like him to respect me as an artist, and that’s not going to happen.”
    I walked to the wall featuring her paintings. “Why not? You’re good, too.”
    “And you don’t know anything about art, remember?” She said it without malice, following me to look at the pictures. “They’ll never hang in a museum. I don’t think anyone will ever make a Wikipedia entry about me.”
    “You never know,” I told her. “Do you think Johnny Dellasandro knew when he was making those movies that one day he’d be famous for showing off his ass?”
    “It’s a pretty epic ass.”
    “Let’s go watch another movie,” I said.
    By two in the morning we’d only made it through one more because we’d paused and rewound so many scenes so many times.
    “Why didn’t you start with this one?” I demanded after the third time we’d watched Johnny slide down a naked woman’s body with his mouth.
    Jen shook the remote at me. “Girl, you have to build up to this shit. You can’t just go in full force on this stuff, you might give yourself an aneurysm.”
    I laughed, though the fact I probably did have an aneurysm that could kill me at any time, no matter what the doctors said, made the joke a little less funny. “Play it again.”
    She reversed the DVD half a minute and played it again. Johnny called the