The food arrived. It was pretty good, had always been pretty good, but the prices kept going up. Nina remembered the pancakes were five dollars cheaper when they were in high school, getting dropped off by their parents with a twenty to cover brunch and the tip. The prices seemed higher every time they went here. Her paycheck remained unchanged.

"But how was the exhibition?" Cory asked around a mouthful of pancake.

"Good. I did some sketches." She pulled her sketchbook out of her pocket and passed it to Cory.

"Nice," they said, and dunked a piece of pancake in melting butter. "Did you see any of the Kewpie drawings?"

"A couple. Mostly the lithographs, and I think one original?"

Nina poured maple syrup over her chicken and waffles, feeling particularly American as she did so. Belonging in this country, making the leftover traces of her parents' homelands invisible to any outside observer.

"I saw this article about early 20th century illustrators recently," Cory brought up, evidently still thinking about Rose O'Neill. "The most popular illustrators were treated like celebrities. They lived in mansions. They made money."

"Wow. Wish that were me," Nina said. "I heard illustration payments haven't just remained static for the past century but have actually gotten worse since the fifties. While inflation went up."

"Man. Why do you want to work in this field again?"

"Good question." When Nina picked her major in the first place, she decided on illustration because she liked to draw, but fine art for its own sake seemed scary, and working with bands and beer companies and magazines to come up with pictures that communicated whatever it was they wanted to get across seemed both easier and more fun than trying to make a go of gallery living. And then she graduated and had no idea what to do to get the bands and beer companies to ask her to draw stuff for them. Drawing at all would be a start, probably, but when it came to drawing for herself, she just ended up staring at a blank page.

"Everyone says you should draw what you want to get paid to draw," Nina said slowly, "but I don't know what that is anymore. Maybe I don't want to work in this field at all."

Cory looked alarmed. "Neen, don't say that, I was kidding. Do you want to get together and draw sometime soon? I feel like we haven't done that in a while."

In high school, the two of them attended supplementary art classes at the same studio, but while Nina decided to pursue a career in the arts, Cory decided to keep art as a hobby while doing computer programming work for money.

"Maybe next Sunday?" Nina said. "Wait, no, I'm working then now... After you get off work on Wednesday?"

"Sure. I'll bring my tablet."

"Maybe I should get a tablet," Nina said. "Everyone says they're lifechanging. I like traditional media though."

"And that's valid," Cory said.

Nina finished her waffles and sipped a second mug of terrible instant tea. "So what have you been up to lately?"

Cory told Nina about their deep dive into gothic romance novels from the 1700s, prompted by a sudden reread of Northanger Abbey, while Nina slowly drank the rest of her tea and wondered if they should go to the new dessert place a few doors down from the diner after.

"I've been feeling kind of emotionally blunted and numb recently," they explained, "and it turns out ancient horror and teen drama parodying the horror novels are a really great way to tap into your emotions. Also listening to MCR."

"That explains your new phase," Nina said.

"Exactly. Gerard Way was right." They slammed their coffee cup on the table for emphasis.

"About what?"

"Everything. They're an inspiration to every nonbinary goth from New Jersey."

Nina nodded solemnly. "Do you wanna get dessert next door?"

They got dessert at Formosa next door, even though their pastries were absurdly expensive and the bubble tea no cheaper. While Lou's was pretty good, Formosa's "East Asian-French fusion" desserts were phenomenal. When they opened just after Nina came back home, it felt like a consolation prize for having to move back. The shops on Middlewater's main street were constantly changing in the losing battle to afford the University's rents, so there was no telling how long Formosa would last. The pizzeria whose space they'd overtaken survived for about three years, if Nina remembered correctly. But they were going to enjoy the colorful fruit-based desserts while they could.

"Imagine if this place was open when we were in high school," Cory sighed, digging into a fluffy, sweet but not too sweet mango cake. "We would've been so broke." 

"I mean, I still am pretty broke. We can't all work in tech." Nina had ordered a matcha brulee drink and was now sipping it slowly through the thick plastic straw, letting the thick milkiness of the drink fill her mouth.

"You could, though," Cory pointed out. "There's always openings in design if you wanna shift your focus a bit. Like, I'm not even in tech really, I'm in IT. And that's miles more stable than a start-up."

"But I don't wanna do design," Nina said. They seemed to have this conversation every week. "I didn't study that. I'm not trained for that."

"You could still do it," Cory insisted. "Just get a portfolio together and go."

Nina sipped her drink. The straw made a rattling noise. 

They walked around Middlewater for a bit after they finished eating, before going back to their cars. Nina insisted they couldn't go past For Art's Sake on her day off, so they went on campus grounds instead.

"Think we'll see anyone from school?" Cory asked.

"God, I hope not."

Seconds later, Roger Yin from Nina's French class stopped short in front of them. "Oh whoa. Didn't know you guys were still in town," he said, straightening his glasses.

"Didn't know you still went here," Cory said. They were always the more outgoing one, even though Nina was the one with a customer-facing job now. "Did you take a year off or something?"

Roger shook his head. "Five year master's, and I'm thinking of sticking around for my PhD too."

"Wow," Nina and Cory said in unison.

"What're you guys up to?"

"I'm in IT," Cory offered. "But I'm gonna try and move out soon." This was news to Nina. Then again, something about running into old classmates made Nina want to exaggerate and emphasize how very successful she was being, actually. She graduated with a 4.0! ... From art school, where grades were mostly based on effort.

"I work at the art store now," Nina said instead. "But I'm still making art stuff myself." Sketchbook doodles totally counted, right?

"Cool, cool," Roger said. "Well, see ya around." And walked off, probably fervently hoping for the opposite, if he was anything like Nina.

Nina and Cory both exhaled the moment he was out of sight.

"Now where to?" Nina asked.

"Fountain?"

The modernist sculptural fountain was still dry, too early in the spring for it to be filled yet. They took a seat on the stone bench next to it and sat in companionable silence. It was a warm early spring Sunday, and the university campus was full of students running around with heavy backpacks, couples on dates and families taking scenic strolls in almost equal measure. Someone on the bench opposite them appeared to be fully studying for an exam, textbooks on the ground and everything. Such was the power of unexpected sunshine.

"When do you have to go home?" Nina asked.

Cory shrugged. "Before 5?"

Nina pulled out her phone to check the time and— "oh, Goldie texted me."

"New York girl? What'd she say?"

"Umm..." Nina scrolled. "Following up on a conversation we had on Saturday about conceptual art and then... Oh my God." She covered her face with one hand and passed the phone to Cory. 

Goldie: is it too clingy to say I miss you already? 

Cory cackled. "Wow, you have this girl down bad. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing! I mean, nothing unusual! Half the women at Cubbyhole could probably do exactly the same things." Her face was on fire. She pulled a chunk of frizzy dark hair across it in an attempt to hide.

Cory just laughed again, leaning forward and propping their head up on their hand. "I didn't need to know that much about your sex life, Neen."  

"Stop," she groaned, smacking them lightly on the arm. 

"Like, I don't get what your problem is here. Do you not like her?"

"I do, I think. But she's so clearly out of my league I'm not sure what she's even doing with me. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"What are you, an abandoned cat? Why are you so scared of affection?"

"I don't know." Nina groaned. "Do you want to help me workshop something funny to text her back?"

"You'll find that is not in my friendship job description." Cory handed the phone back to her. "Just be yourself, and if that doesn't work then it was simply not meant to be in the first place."