Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Thanks to Prue, I had my Kendry uniform. I applied the finishing touches to my makeup and did one last look-over in the mirror. I was nearly perfect. The only blemish to be seen was my slightly pink knuckles, which I’d had to explain to Bram the day prior.
“I heard you broke some girl’s nose,” had been the first thing he had said to me as soon as I had walked through the front door.
“I did.”
“Because of Reid.” It hadn’t sounded like a question.
“Technically, it was because of something she said to Mac. However, it did start because she wouldn’t leave Reid alone.”
“You shouldn’t be fighting over a guy. If he can’t turn another woman down on his own, he isn’t worth your time,” he had lectured.
“I wholeheartedly agree, but she wasn’t taking no for an answer and I was drunk. It wasn’t a good combination. I’ve already had a talk about this with the guys and told them not to put me in such a position again,” I had informed him.
His gaze had dropped to get a look at my sore knuckles. “Is your hand okay?”
“Yeah.”
He had nodded and gone to turn away.
“My mother was like that girl last night. That’s how you two met,” I’d said.
He’d gone still for a heartbeat or two before meeting my eyes. I had known the answer before he had said it. “Yes.”
My nose had scrunched. “Gross.”
At first, he’d looked caught off guard. Then he had smiled.
“It’s not funny,” I’d said to him.
“That’s not why I’m smiling,” he’d said. “You act mature a lot of the time. It’s nice to see you react like a kid for once.”
I ran my hands down the nonexistent wrinkles of my uniform before leaving the bathroom. I grabbed my new textbook and bag and headed out.
Bram was sitting in the living room, surprisingly not dressed for work. He stood as I entered. “You got everything?”
I nodded.
“If you need me, call me. I’ll be close by,” he said. He went to put his hand on top of my perfectly styled, half-up-half-down, flat-ironed hair, but I shied away.
“My hair,” I grumbled, and hugged him instead.
His chest bounced as he silently chuckled and hugged me back. “Have a good day at school.”
I’m going to try, I thought to myself.
When I pulled into Kendry’s parking lot, Roe was waiting for me by his bike. I parked next to him. After I climbed out and locked up my car, he gave me a small smile. I could tell he felt unsure. So I walked over to him and laced my fingers with his.
People stared and whispered as we walked in. Even Alicia and Evie gawked as we went by. I was used to others staring. I was a Kendry, after all. It was another reason I had to be perfect so there wouldn’t be anything bad to gossip about. Today, though, there would be, and the day had just begun.
There weren’t any incidents as Roe walked me to my locker or to my first class.
I did my best to focus on each class and the first half of the day went by pretty quickly.
I met Roe in his secret spot behind the football field bleachers.
As soon as I got there, he pulled out two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and for the first time in years, I ate lunch at school.
“I really like this,” I said before taking another bite.
He smiled at me and used his thumb to wipe the corner of my mouth. “I used strawberry jam because I know how much you love strawberries.”
I smiled before taking another bite. “I overheard something interesting today.”
“Oh yeah?”
I nodded. “I heard that MIT sent out acceptances a little over two weeks ago. A few days prior to the club’s barbecue.” I leaned against the chain-link fence as I stared at him for his reaction.
He went still, but then slowly brought his sandwich up to take a bite.
“You got in, didn’t you?”
His lack of response was answer enough.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Stanford will send out acceptances next week. I wanted to see what they said first before I made a decision or told anyone anything.”
“Why wait on Stanford to tell us?” I asked.
He finished off his sandwich and as he chewed, I saw his wheels turning. “You already know the answer to that.”
“What if I don’t want to go to that art school anymore? What if I changed my mind? After all, I decided to be with you—leave with you—knowing that you might go to Massachusetts.”
He put his hands on the chain-link fence on either side of my head as he stared down at me.
“I want you to listen to me when I say this: My dream, what I work hard for, is to be happy. For the four of us to be happy. I know what my friends need to be happy. Right now, I want you to tell me what you need to be happy.”
“You can’t just make other people happy—”
“Tell me what would make you happy, Lottie. What are your dreams? If you tell me, then I will tell you what will make me happy—what I want out of this life.”
I couldn’t move my eyes from his. “I want to draw.”
“What else?”
“I don’t care where we move. As long as I can continue to draw and do something with it.”
“Okay. What else?”
“I…” I had been so focused on the immediate future with this new life I had been given that I hadn’t looked further. “I want a house. Our house. Just big enough for the four of us, or maybe a little bigger to fit a few more people.”
He smiled. “Who are the few more people?”
“So people can come visit. Like Bram, Vivian, Noble, or Mac. Our families.”
“Is that what the extra room is for? Just our visiting friends and families?” His smile never wavered as he pushed me to say it.
“Isn’t it too soon to talk about such things?” I asked.
“Why? You’re going to move away with us in a few months. If you can do that, you can tell me what you want from me and our relationship.”
Fine. “I want it all. I want to be an artist. I want you three, I want the house, the yard, maybe even a pet. And yes, I want to have children. One day. When we’re ready. In like ten years. I want to have a family and a home that is full of love.”
His hand went to my cheek. “When I look ahead, I want a house that is warm and feels safe for you. Your drawings are hanging in every room. Wyatt’s working on an old, ugly car in the garage or he’s drawing a new comic.
Reid has finally decided what he wants to do, be it go back to school or find full-time work somewhere.
I want to find you in a room we’ve designated as your studio.
I want to see your hands covered in charcoal and you’re so locked in on your current drawing that you don’t even notice me watching you.
I want that. I want that peace. It might be simple to some, but it’s what my dream is.
Everything else is extra. MIT or Stanford just add to it.
They were my top picks, but not the only places I applied.
You are part of the main dream. You, Wyatt, and Reid. ”
“There isn’t a career you want to pursue?” I asked him.
His hands went to my waist. “Data science has always interested me.”
My brows rose. No wonder MIT was one of his top picks. “And you would have settled for being my assistant?”
He leaned down and kissed my jaw, then my neck. “Before, I would have done it just to be near you.”
“And now?”
He pulled away smirking. “Now you don’t have to pay me to let you sit on my face.”
I rolled my eyes.
“We can do it anytime you want.” His mouth went back to my neck, kissing it, as his hands at my waist pulled me against him.
“I can’t sit on your face right now,” I said, even though the thought was very appealing.
“Why not? I could lay down in that storage shed, pull your panties down, and have you take a seat.”
I clenched my thighs together and I gave him a little push away. “We can’t. We should be keeping an eye out.”
He leaned back. “He’s not here. I heard that he and the rest of the baseball team are all at a tournament. So we don’t have to worry about him today.”
That was a relief. “I’m still not sitting on your face in a dark and no doubt spider-infested shed.”
He dramatically sighed in a way Wyatt would have. “Fine.”
I grabbed one of the lapels of his blazer. “Would you settle for a kiss?”
He smiled as his lips descended onto mine.
The sound of Ms. Clark’s alarm made my fingers go still on my drawing.
The alarm was turned off and Ms. Clark’s voice filled the room. “All right, class, let’s wrap things up and I’ll come around.”
I eyed my strawberry. After having the sandwich Roe had made me, strawberries were the first thing that had popped into my head when the timed drawing challenge started. I couldn’t help but smile at it before I got up to go wash my hands.
On my way back, I spotted Ezra, my oil pastel drawing rival, standing by my easel staring at my drawing.
“Do I get to look over your drawing as well?” I asked as I stood next to him.
“Go ahead,” he said, flippantly waving toward his easel.
The corner of my mouth twitched. I didn’t need to go see it to know it was good. “What do you think?”
“You don’t need me to praise you. You know it’s good,” he said. “It’s different from what you normally draw.”
Maybe it was.
“How’s your final coming along?” he asked.
“I’ve been scrapping everything,” I answered honestly. “How about you?”
“I haven’t got a clue what to draw for mine,” he answered just as honestly. “Well, we have five weeks left. No rush, right?”
It had taken me two months to finish my motorcycle drawing. Who knew how long I would need once I figured out what to draw for this final? “Yeah, no rush,” I said just as facetiously.
He smiled. “Did you hear Stewart’s is hosting an event around Jane Fontaine, that famous charcoal artist? They’ll be displaying a few of her drawings along with works from four lesser-known charcoal artists. It’s this weekend.”
“No, I haven’t,” I said. “I’ll have to check it out.”
Ms. Clark approached and Ezra returned to his easel.
She gave me a tight smile. The last time I had seen her, I had stormed out of her classroom. As she looked over my drawing, her brows rose. “Why a strawberry?”
“I like strawberries and it’s what popped into my head.”