Dax laughs silently; she can't see it from her angle, but I can.
I shake my head and move to the other side of the room, peering over Dax's shoulder and confirming my suspicion. "You know he's painting trees, right?"
"What?"
Dax laughs and shoves me away. "You fucking traitor!"
"No…you're lying to me, right?" Saige asks.
"I'm not lying to you," I tell her through laughter. "It looks like he is, though."
"Dax, what the fuck?!"
She climbs down from the stool and pulls on her underwear and sweater before stomping over to see for herself.
"Asshole!" she says. "I've probably spent four hours sitting there like a fucking idiot this week."
"No, no, listen. Listen…" He stops, trying to regain his composure before continuing. "I need you to sit there because—"
"Shut up!" We both start laughing again. "I don't want to hear whatever ridiculous thing you're about to say."
"No, Saige. Saige, it's not ridiculous. I need you to sit there because...it's inspiring."
Now, I'm laughing so hard I have to sit down on the bed and wipe tears from under my eyes.
"Oh, my god. Whatever," she says, pulling on her jeans.
"It's true! I do better work when I'm horny. And so I couldn't do this without you—truly. Same time tomorrow."
"Yeah, right!"
"You're right, I can't wait," Dax says. "Thanks a lot, Nolan. Now, she's wearing clothes. I hope you're happy."
"Dude, how long were you going to keep this up? You've never sketched or painted a portrait in your life."
"Um, forever."
"God…" Saige shakes her head. "I hate you. What else are you lying about? Is your name even Dax?"
"Well, technically no," I say.
Her eyes widen. "What?!"
"It's a nickname."
Dax laughs again and crosses the room toward her. "I didn't hear anything," he says. "I don't know what he's talking about. Saige, you just look so pretty today, let me just…" He holds her head against his chest, covering her other ear with his hand. "Shh, that's better. You don't have to worry about anything he says now."
She shoves him away, but she's laughing now, too. "God, get off me! No, because you said that Daxwasyour real nameand that since your parents are rich, they didn't have to follow name rules."
"Stop." I laugh. Now my fucking side hurts. "You didn't really say that."
Dax shrugs. "I don't really remember how the conversation went."
"Fuckingliar. Do you even have a cousin named Meringue?"
"Now that I can confirm—Meringue is real."
"Great. What's his fucking name?"
