Sam reached out and took August’s hand. “Wanna help me with my art homework?”
August looked stunned. “Y-You want my help? I’m no artist. I’ll probably wreck it.”
“Impossible! We’re learning about Picasso. What are you going to do, put the eye in the wrong place?” He laughed like it was the funniest joke in the world, and Lazlo and I joined in.
August, however, didn’t seem to know how to act. He stood in the doorway between kitchen and dining room. His lips twitched like he barely remembered how to smile, but there was such longing on his face that I made a vow to make him smile every day. “Maybe your dads need help in the kitchen…” he began.
Sammy didn’t even blink about him calling us his dads, and instead, looked at me and asked, “Do you?”
I waved them off. “Nah, we’ve got this. You guys have fun.”
When I turned to Lazlo, though, his hand was clutching at his chest, and I knew the name dad was something he wanted more than anything. Maybe I could help with that too.
12
August
I’dneverbeenverygood at school. My grades in math and science had barely been enough to graduate high school, so college had never been in my future. I’d been working at an electronics store when I met Victor, and it had been enough for me. I liked my coworkers, liked talking to the customers, and the paycheck had covered my few expenses.
Sam, though, seemed toloveschool, and it almost made me wish I could go back and do it all again. We were sitting at their dining room table, and he had me cutting out pictures from a magazine. The project was to take different facial features and stick them in new and unexpected places, until we had a face that resembled a Picasso painting. When I couldn’t find a mouth he liked though, I figured, why not just draw one? That wasn’t against the rules.
“Like this?” I asked, drawing the outline of a wide, thin-lipped smile, with lots of teeth.
“Hmm, can you draw something more like a smirk?”
“Maybe?” I was no artist, but I wanted to try. I pointed at his mouth. “Show me what a smirk looks like, and then I’ll try to copy it.”
Sam pulled a lopsided half grin, and I did my best to sketch it out, my tongue poking out in concentration. “Like that?”
He nodded. “Yeah! Can you color it?”
I shrugged and reached for the pencil crayons. “I don’t see why not.” As long as he didn’t expect it to be a masterpiece, I would do my best. Red seemed too bright, unnatural, so I layered and blended a few colors together—peach, maroon, even a little white to highlight the divot in the middle.
I must’ve been pretty focused on what I was doing, because I wasn’t aware that anyone was watching until Lazlo leaned over my shoulder, his spicy scent wrapping around me. My breath caught at how close he was, how his scent unexpectedly made my mouth water. “Wow, that’s really good, August. Hey, Jer, check it out! We are in the presence of a true artist here.”
“Oh, no, I—” I tried to cover it up with my hands, but Jerry was too fast. He reached across the table and took the paper from me.
His eyes were a complete contrast to Lazlo’s, icy blue instead of warm brown, and when they were focused on me like that, it was enough to burn straight through me. I focused instead on the narrow scar that cut through his left eyebrow. “Are you a professional artist, August? This is stunning.”
All the praise curdled inside me, making me sweat. It was more than embarrassment—it was closer to shame, this feeling like I hadn’t done anything worthy of being complimented. “I-It’s nothing,” I muttered, trying to melt through the floor where I could hide from their gazes. “Just a doodle. It’s no big deal.”
Even staring down at my lap, IfeltJerry walk around the table, like his aura created its own gravity around him as he moved. Hecrouched down beside me, and still, I couldn’t bring myself to look.
His hand came into view, and he hooked a finger under my chin to make me look up. “I mean it. You have a real talent. Have you ever considered doing more of it? As a job or even just a hobby?”
I shook my head, his finger still searing into my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to shake it off.
“Well, if it’s something that makes you happy, maybe you should. Think about it.” He pulled his hand back, tapping my nose once, and when he moved away, I felt suddenly more alone than I had just moments ago.
Sam beamed at me as he happily cut out the shape and glued it to his collage. “I can’t wait to tell my teacher that you drew the mouth!”
Stark fear burned the other emotions straight away.No!He couldn’t tell anyone! If Victor reported me missing and someone heard the name, it was too uncommon and would be traced straight back to me! Before I could say any of that, though, Jerry ruffled Sam’s hair. “You remember how August didn’t want you to tell me he was here? How about giving him an alias. Call him… Bob.”
Surprised laughter slipped out instead of the building panic I’d been working on, so grateful that he’d known exactly what I needed. “Do I look like a Bob?”
The three of them laughed and all shook their head in agreement. The next few minutes while they set the table for dinner, they tried to decide what name I did look like. Joe, Alex, Brad, Gary, Walt, they were all rejected.
Lazlo set the rocking baby swing up beside my chair and buckled Mia into it, before he sighed thoughtfully and pursed his lips. “August needs a name that stands out, something different. How about… Wick.”
