Chapter 28
Breaking up with Noah was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.
When I think back on it now, I realize I would’ve done things differently, said things differently.
I would’ve told Noah that I still love him, that I probably always will, but that I’ve always felt something was missing with him.
I needed a deeper connection, the kind I can only get with someone through a shared appreciation of art.
The kind of connection I have with Iris and Emmy and Franco and even Zayne.
And, most importantly, with Phantom.
It’s not his fault that that connection was never there, and he shouldn’t have to go changing himself just to build it for me. He’s perfect just the way he is. Our relationship’s just not the right fit for me, for who I am—not anymore.
He’s still one of my best friends. I still cherish every memory we made, and need him in my life like my lungs need air. But just as a friend. The best of friends.
Maybe he would’ve understood better if I’d said all that. Or maybe not. I guess we’ll never know. After all, that’s one thing we can never do: Turn back time.
“What are you trying to say right now?” Noah had said, lifting his head from his hands in my room back home.
“I’m trying to tell you that I’m not sure I can do this anymore,” I murmured.
“And by ‘this,’ you mean us?” The expression on his face was so pained.
The tightness in my chest was suffocating as I’d said, “Yes.”
“What did I do wrong?” he asked through a distraught grimace.
“Nothing, Noah. Absolutely nothing.”
His expression crumpled. “Then what went wrong? What changed?”
“I did,” I cried. But even I knew that was a lie. I’ve never felt more like myself.
His voice was low and quiet. “No, that’s bullshit. I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Noah,” I said, exasperated, falling to sit on the bed next to him.
Eyes locked on the floor, he asked, “Is it someone else?”
I’d flinched, and he knew.
“I see.”
We sat in silence and I listened as his breaths came in heavier and heavier.
He turned his gaze to me. “Who?”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not about them. It’s about me.”
“Then tell me this, Maeve. Are they a good person? Will they support you and love you like I have?” I’d felt his eyes, blue like the hottest fire, scorching my skin, straight through to my soul. I didn’t answer him.
“You’ve known them for months, Maeve. You’ve known me for years. And I’ve always been there for you. You might be ending things between us, but I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”
I’d let the tears fall then.
Noah stood and said with his back to me, “When this asshole hurts you, I’ll be here to pick up the pieces.” And then he’d left. Without another word.
I missed him the second he’d gone, but I couldn’t deny the truth to myself. I missed Phantom more.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you,” I say as I climb out of our family van the day after Thanksgiving, on my birthday.
“I love you too, Bug. Have fun celebrating with your friends, but be safe.”
“Will do.”
“Happy birthday, my girl.”
My heart, still sore from the breakup, heals a little under the warmth of Dad’s love.
I drop my bags off in my dorm room before heading back out to grab a quick bite to eat from the deli on the edge of campus since the cafeteria is closed for break.
I’m walking by the main administration building, where the deans’ offices are, when I recognize Phantom from the back.
I’ve missed them so much over the past few days that my feet move on their own, jogging in their direction.
I open my mouth to call to them, but when I see Dean Reithart stride up next to them, I close it again and slow my pace.
Her anger is written all over her face, and it’s then that I realize they’re yelling at each other.
I move into the shadows of the neighboring building and sneak closer, eavesdropping on their conversation.
“—blatant manipulation. I won’t stand for it any longer,” Dean Reithart says sternly.
“Don’t be such a drag,” Phantom scoffs with more venom in their voice than I’ve ever heard from them before. It sends a chill down my spine.
“You’re just a greedy, ungrateful child,” she spits out.
I slap my hand over my mouth to keep a shocked gasp from escaping and giving away my position.
The lines of Phantom’s face twist in a disturbing mixture of sorrow and hate. “Thanks, Granny dearest. I love you too.”
Phantom is Dean Reithart’s grandchild?
“If you want to remain in this town, you will stop this,” she threatens, waving a severe finger in their direction.
Phantom lifts their arms in exasperation. “Has she not lived up to your expectations? I don’t see what the problem is here.”
“Of course she has.” Dean Reithart crosses her arms. “But it’s not about her. It’s about you and the lengths you’re willing to go to get what you want. I’ve enabled you for far too long. I draw the line at what you did to Remington Blake.”
What the hell are they talking about?
“Fine,” Phantom sneers. “I’ll just go back to being a good little ghost and disappear.”
Dean Reithart sighs. “That’s not what I want either.”
Phantom practically spits, “Well, it looks like neither of us will ever get what we want.” They storm off, leaving their grandmother alone, looking after them with decades worth of sorrow in her gaze.
I take a deep breath and rub my hands together to stop them from shaking, thinking over everything I just heard. I have no idea what it all means right now, but I know I have to ask Phantom. Tonight.
My lunch tastes bland in my mouth, and the rest of the afternoon goes by torturously slowly. Until finally, after five in the evening, Phantom texts.
I’ll be over in ten.
I pace anxious circles around my room, and even though I’m waiting for it, I still jump when their knock comes at the door. As usual, they’re gorgeous in a pair of gray joggers and a teal hoodie when the door swings open.
“Happy birthday, Maeve,” they say, a smile twinkling in their eyes.
“Thanks,” I reply, smiling despite myself.
They pull a gift-wrapped box out from behind their back. “For you.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I insist as I take the box and start to shake it.
Putting a warm, insistent hand over mine, they warn, “You don’t want to do that.”
My brows knit together. “Why not?”
“Open it and you’ll see.”
So, I do. I rip the silver wrapping paper off, exposing a shiny black box. When I lift the lid, I’m at a loss for words.
I’m staring at a set of the most beautiful paintbrushes I’ve ever seen: Kolinsky sable paintbrushes. Arguably the best, and most expensive, paintbrushes in the world.
“Phantom,” I breathe.
“Before you refuse to accept them, hear me out.”
I lift my gaze and find their eyes stretched wide with awe.
“Your art will change the world, Maeve. I have no doubt about that. The tools used by an artist of your caliber should be just as masterful and just as beautiful. So, please, accept them.”
“Okay,” I say softly, my stomach writhing with nerves as I set the gift box down on my desk. “I’ll accept them . . . on one condition.”
Phantom’s face pinches in confusion. “What’s the condition?”
“I’m going to ask you a question, and you have to be honest with me.”
“Okay.”
“I still don’t know anything about you,” I explain while wringing my hands, unsure of exactly where to start this conversation.
“You know everything that matters.” Their eyes harden as they observe me and I can almost see them building their walls up, brick by brick. My heart aches as I watch them try to keep me at arm’s length, like I’m an outsider.
“You’ve only told me about your art. Nothing about you,” I counter.
Phantom nods. “Right.”
I close the distance between us as I say, “No, Phantom. I want to know you. I want to know it all.”
I watch the muscles in their jaw clench past the edges of their mask. “You might change your mind.”
My chin rises to meet their challenge. “No, I won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
My gaze flits between green and blue. “Yes, I do,” I say angrily. “I broke up with Noah.”
Phantom’s lips press against the cotton fabric as they fall apart. “You actually did it?”
“Yes. We broke up,” I reiterate.
Phantom’s gaze drifts to my nightstand. They won’t find what they’re looking for. The picture of Noah and me is gone.
“But you’ve been with Noah for a long time, why would you pick me over—”
I can’t help but raise my voice. “Because I’m falling in love with you, you idiot! Can’t you see that?”
They simply stare at me, and then a single tear falls from Phantom’s eye, immediately absorbed by the fabric of their mask. “You love me?” they croak.
“Yes,” I say in exasperation. “Which is why I need you to be honest with me now.”
They swallow hard but nod.
“Is Dean Reithart your grandmother?” I ask, my gaze never leaving Phantom’s.
Their wrinkled brow betrays their shock. “Yes.”
My teeth grind together at the confirmation. “And you’ve asked her to do things for you? Or forced her hand somehow? To do things she didn’t want to do?”
They avert their gaze. “In a way, yes.”
“What did you make her do?”
When their eyes return to mine, all I see is fear. “Maeve, you have to understand. When I saw your art, I couldn’t help myself. People had to see it. I couldn’t leave it, or you, locked up in that dull, small-minded town. Not someone that stunning.”
Time slows as a single word passes my lips. “Me?”
Stunning.
Then, it all clicks.
Phantom is User4372957382. Phantom is the reason I became an overnight internet sensation. Phantom is the reason I got offered an audition at Lizbeth. Phantom is probably the reason I got in too. And, without a shadow of a doubt, Phantom is the reason Remington Blake got expelled.
They’re the orchestrator behind everything. I didn’t earn this. Any of it. It was given to me . . . by Phantom.
“You,” I breathe, my tone low and dangerous.