“You’d impress me,” I tease. “Especially with the Tom and Jerry socks. You know the flea market has Pokémon ones too? And Barbie.”
His eyes light up. “Shall we go later?”
“Sure.” Then the weight returns. “But... Sam, could you—I just have a bad feeling.”
I sigh, my chest tight. “Please make sure he takes his meds in the morning. When he’s sick, he doesn’t cook and forgets to shower. Maybe check his room. Clean the room with him, but don’t let him know I asked. He can’t rest if his space is a mess. And he can’t eat mushrooms—he’s allergic. No coffee either.”
“Got it.”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important, but when he’s like this, he doesn’t notice time passing and...” I freeze, then whisper the worst of it. “Can you hid—”
Sam pulls me closer before I can finish. “There are no razors in the house. I help him shave every time he needs to.” His voice is steady.
“Thank you,” I murmur.
I trust Vincent. But when he’s sick, he’s the first one who doesn’t trust himself and I can’t risk losing him again.
He’s survived too much to throw it away now. And he’ll never let me help—not when he thinks Steven needs me more.
He still carries guilt for leaving after graduation. I never hated him for it. I was glad he left, glad he chased his dream. I only hated that he cut me off, while he stayed close with everyone else—even Aurora, who wants nothing to do with me anymore.
But now Vincent came back different and with a giant wealth of experience that makes him different than every other past or future musician.
Stories of late-night gigs in San Francisco, Max’s new blond mullet, the classes with brilliant teachers he took, all the time he spent playing and composing, and all the pictures of the places Kurt Cobain himself played with Nirvana that he visited.
He came home ready to be a rockstar. And I know he will be. All he needs is for the world to see that a star was born on December 11, 2001.
––––––––
-*?? . ??? ? ?.-*??
Steven sits me down on the counter and hands me a plate of cookies. The bakery’s closed at this hour, so it’s just us inside. Sam leans next to me and swipes a cookie, moaning in pleasure after the first bite. “I didn’t think you could actually bake, Stevie. I’m impressed.”
Steven rolls his eyes, passes me a glass of lemonade, then kisses the top of my head before heading back behind the counter to prep Will’s coffee. He grabs an orange soda from the fridge and tosses it at Sam, who catches it with a smirk.
“You’re a motherfucker!” Steven calls.
Sam grins, sipping from his can of soda. “I never fucked your mom!”
Steven hurls a wet dishcloth at him, and Sam mutters a string of insults as he throws it back. Meantime Will and I burst into laughter.
It’s just the four of us today. Wednesday mornings are like this: Vincent has a session with Dr. Jenkins, and Maggie’s at work. She’s teaching summer dance classes now—her own choreography, with a group of fifteen- to seventeen-year-oldgirls. She was ecstatic when the school asked her to run it. Maggie’s not just a great dancer and teacher; she’s an amazing choreographer. It’s her dream to open her own academy, and I’m sure she’ll get there someday.
Sometimes she makes me play “student” just so she can rehearse her lessons. The school where she teaches is small, but ever since they started summer classes and open days, enrollment’s been growing.
“You look good in those green braids,” Will says after a sip of iced coffee. “And the bangs suit you.”
Steven and Sam nod in agreement and I grin, blowing him a dramatic kiss. “And you haven’t even seen Maggie. Magenta’s her color.”
Maggie came with Vincent and me when I cut my hair. I kept the length, just added bangs, but then I had this brilliant idea: I convinced her to dye her ends magenta while I braided parts of mine with pastel green extensions. During our first night as roommates, we watchedThe Princess and the Frogtogether and decided she’d be Tiana and I’d be Charlotte. So now I carry Maggie with me in green, and she carries me in pink.
My legs dangle off the counter, swinging to the rhythm of Steven’s playlist—the one I made for him.
Sam scrolls on his phone, sipping his soda. “Oh, I’ve seen Maggie’s hair. And I think I’m even more in love.”
Will claps him on the back like he’s consoling him. Steven, meanwhile, starts prepping the counter for opening. “The day Margaret gives you a chance, I’ll go pierce both nipples.”
That sounds fun. “Hey, can I do that too? I’ve always wanted to.”
