“Yes, I know who the actor is, but I’m confused as to why him being cast in a role is bad.”
“I just don’t understand how you use the same actor for two roles in the same universe.” He takes a long sip of his beer. “Like, are they going to try to say Tony Stark didn’t die and he’s now the villain?”
“Are you actually discussing Marvel movies with me?”
“Yeah. What? Is it that hard to believe I like superheroes?”
I laugh out loud. “I mean you look like one, so I guess not.” My whole face heats the minute the words fall out of my mouth.
“You think I look like a superhero?” He smirks, and I wish more than anything I could go back in time and not say it.
“No, I just meant…your hair. It’s like Thor’s. It was meant to be a joke; don’t let it go to your head.”
“Sure,” he says, taking a long pull from his beer. “I’m actually a very big Marvel fan. I’ve seen every movie.”
“Don’t tell me you have a gigantic comic book collection too?” I tease.
“No, it’s not gigantic” he argues. His cheeks turn beat red, and he grabs another slice of pizza.
“Oh, my god! You totally have a gigantic comic book collection, don’t you? Are you a secret nerd?” I gasp.
“I’m not a nerd.”
“Says the guy who just listed off his top five Marvel movies without being asked, has an opinion about the actor playing a fictional villain, and has comic books hiding under his bed.”
He blushes again. “I would never store them under my bed.”
“Oh, youarea nerd.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “I don’t mean it in a bad way. I think it’s endearing.”
“Endearing?” he questions.
“Yeah, endearing.”
“Would you want to see my collection?”
“Sure.” I giggle in disbelief. He stands, goes into the kitchen to wash his hands, and then jogs into his room. After a minute, he returns with a stack of comic books. Each one is placed inside a clear protective wrapping, and the one on the bottom of the stack is framed.
He takes his time, showing me each one, telling me what makes it special. He seems like a completely different person when he’s talking about them, and I hardly recognize the man in front of me.
Maybe I had him all wrong?
There must be a least fifteen spread out across the floor when he’s done, and I have a sneaky suspicion there’s more in his room, but this is him attempting to play it cool. I wonder if anyone else knows he likes them this much, or if this is something just for him, and if it is, then why is he sharing it with me? The final framed book has a large signature on the front.
“Who’s Tanlee?” I ask through a yawn, trying to read the signature.
“Tanlee?” He gasps, and his eyes go wide. “Did you just ask me who’s Tanlee?”
“Yeah, am I supposed to know?” I study the name a little closer, but it’s hard to read.
“It says Stan Lee!” He laughs and looks at me like I should know who he’s talking about. “The creator of Marvel. You don’t know who Stan Lee is? He’s literally in every movie.” His face twists.
“Oh, no. I mean, maybe it sounds familiar.” I shrug. “So, I guess that one is a really cool one to have?”
“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckles, shaking his head. “My grandfather gave it to me for my thirteenth birthday.”
“I bet Cody would know what you’re talking about.” I finish the last of my drink and set the can on the coffee table.
“If your brother ever wanted to see it, I’d be happy to show him. I’m sure he’d get a kick out of you calling Stan Lee, Tanlee.”
