21. Chapter 21
Chapter 21
Abby
D allas pulls something out of his backpack when we reach the bikes after dinner. It’s a box a little bigger than the size of his hand. It’s not wrapped. He holds it out to me.
I cock my head. “You have to stop getting me gifts.”
“I think I’m starting to enjoy it.” He nods to the box, holding it another inch closer. “I was going to give this to you during dinner, but we got sidetracked.”
I sigh and take it. My mouth drops open when I realize what he’s given me. “A comms unit? Wait, is this a Cardo? These are expensive.”
“How else are we supposed to talk while we ride? I can’t go that long without hearing that beautiful voice of yours.” He grabs my helmet from where it’s hanging on my handlebar and turns it over. “Grab the piece in there. I’ve already set most of it up. We just have to attach it and turn on the Bluetooth.”
The box has already been opened. I look over at Dallas’s helmet, remembering he has one attached to his already, likely for him and Logan to talk when they ride together. I hand the piece to Dallas. He secures it in place and plugs in a cord under some of the padding before passing the helmet back for me to put on.
“It should be on. Turn on the Bluetooth on your phone, too.” He slips his helmet on and turns the dial on his. Once I think I’ve connected everything, Dallas’s voice comes through my helmet. It’s too loud and makes me jump. He laughs from where he stands by his bike.
“Shut up,” I say. It only makes him laugh more before he leans over and shows me how to turn it down.
Driving home is weird. Being able to talk to him, or anyone, for that matter, is new. I’m a fan though. I’ll say that. I’ve always assumed I knew what was going on in his head when we were riding or at stop lights, but this puts a whole new perspective on it. He’s like a teenage boy who ate too much candy in one sitting. I can’t hear the music he plays through his speaker, but I can hear every word he attempts to sing, and it’s so far out of pitch that I’m dying laughing most of the way home. I don’t even need my own music to keep me company. Dallas provides the entertainment all by himself.
My phone vibrates on the table next to me, pulling me from the final page of tests I’ve been grading for Dr. Kraus.
“Hey, Mer,” I answer, setting the phone on the table on speakerphone, my eyes still scanning the final page.
“Hey. You remember when you recommended me to Rose’s boss to finish painting those tables?”
“Uh, yeah,” I say, only half listening.
She almost shrieks on the other end, forcing me to fully pay attention. “I’m going in today to do it! And they’re offering to pay me way more than I was going to quote them.”
Dallas and Logan turn their heads when they hear the shriek through the small phone speaker. I sit back in my seat with a bright smile. “That’s amazing, Mer.”
“I know! But I want some help. Do you think you and Dallas could come in to help? Logan can join, too, if he wants.”
"I'm out," Logan says immediately.
That makes me laugh. “Mer, you know I have zero artistic ability. Dallas doesn’t either.” He shoots me a fake offended look.
“Doesn’t matter. The owner said she wanted a variety of styles and talents and asked if I knew anyone who’d be willing to help. So, you’re my help. You’re not doing anything today right?”
I roll my eyes. Meredith has always had this sixth sense to know when I’m busy or not. I don’t know how she does it. “No, I’m not busy today. Neither is Dallas.”
“Good. Meet me at Beans and Berries in an hour.”
The bright neon sign in the front window flashes the word “Closed” when we pull up. Through the large front windows, Meredith and Rose are already inside setting up. The bell above the door dings when we push it open, and they both look up with excited smiles.
“Ah! You’re here. Good. Can you help us get these tables onto the drop cloth?” Meredith points to the group of tables off to the side. The only two painted tables sit lonely in the far corner.
“Of course,” Dallas agrees, ready to help with whatever needs doing. I see him smirk at Rose as he passes her, who gives a shy smile back. I haven’t known Rose that long, but I understand that look. And after the awards ceremony, the way that she and Meredith hit it off, I know she’s into her.
“What can I do?” I ask, stepping farther into the café.
“Can you finish spreading the drop cloth out?” Rose points to the side closest to the counter. “Also, what does everyone want for a coffee or smoothie? My boss said everything is on the house today.”
Everyone gives Rose their orders. Tables are placed. Paint is brought out. Meredith has sketched a few designs on the tops for us “non-artists,” as she called Dallas, Rose, and me, to follow while we paint. I pick one that’s split down the middle with a large sun and moon on it. Dallas picks one with a phrase that says “Hello, beautiful” and a few flowers surrounding it. After Rose makes everyone's drinks, she settles on a table that’s cow print, but Meredith recommends she make it colorful. And Meredith picks one that’s completely blank. She says it’s a surprise but will show us when she’s done.
Most of the time is spent painting in silence. I watch Meredith and Rose sneak glances at each other while they have their own quiet conversation. It’s adorable, though I almost feel like I'm interrupting something. Rose’s cow is slowly turning into a rainbow cow. Dallas sticks his tongue out of the corner of his mouth ever so slightly while he focuses far too hard on tracing the letters on his table in bright pink. The sun side of my table is almost filled in. It’s a good thing the owner wants a variety of talent because she certainly found it.
“Where’s the black?” I ask, searching the floor covered in paint pallets and brushes.
“There.” Meredith points to the other side of Dallas. He hands me the black and then returns to his focused look, tongue sticking out even further this time.
“I really hope the owner likes these,” I say, starting to trace the moon with the black paint.
Rose looks up from filling in a yellow spot on her cow. “Oh, don’t worry about it. She’s chill. I think she would have painted them but didn’t realize how much time it would take to do by herself, so she wanted to hire out.”
“That’s fair. I don’t think I would want to paint this many tables myself either. Especially those long ones. That would take ages.” I glance over to the wall where two longer tables sit pushed against it. There aren’t any designs sketched on them yet.
“Yeah, I’ll take care of those. I have some fun ideas for them,” Meredith says, following my eyes.
“Like what?” I ask. I refocus on painting the moon. The outline is almost finished. I’ll fill it in with black and add white for the spots and craters.
“That’s a secret. You’ll just have to come back and see it later.”
Dallas looks up, pink paint somehow staining the back of his hand, and chimes in. “Doesn’t feel so good being on the other end of a secret now, does it?”
I know he’s referring to my notebook. “That’s not even the same thing. These are tables. That notebook is my entire life.”
“How do you know these tables aren’t my life's work?” Meredith asks, going along with the joke.
Dallas and I both cock a brow at her, and we all start laughing.
A few hours pass as calm conversation flows between the four of us. It’s times like these that I need to keep myself from feeling like I’m about to explode. And times like last night at dinner with my sister and Will to remember that I’m not completely alone in this. It’s easy sometimes to feel like even the people closest to you don’t really get it. I know they’ll never fully understand. But when someone new comes into the story and they understand as easily as Cameron did, I have to remind myself that I do have people rooting for me. And that I should be rooting for myself, too.
As much as I want to, that’s such a daunting task. After losing so much of myself, my humanity, my autonomy, working back up to those things is, well, a lot. It’s overwhelming to even begin thinking about. Although I suppose I’ve been rebuilding myself piece by piece since I left Sam. That’s a start. That’s something to be proud of. I thought I would be more ashamed to ask for help, but I’m not. I needed a support system to even start.
So today, I’ll focus on being proud of where I am even if deep down I’m still terrified of my own shadow.