My parents stand in the back of the room. My mother’s lips are pursed in disappointment while my father shakes his head slowly. Their silent disapproval drowns out the applause, leaving me feeling small and ashamed for having spent so much time on something that doesn’t hold any value to them.
Another shift and I’m in my bedroom, packing away my art supplies. Sketchbooks filled with dreams and aspirations disappear into a box, shoved unceremoniously under my bed. I can hear my parents’ voices drifting up from downstairs, discussing the way my head is always in the clouds and I’m going to end up homeless.
The memories come faster now, a whirlwind of moments where my creative spirit was slowly but surely crushed under the weight of practicality and parental expectations. Each criticism, each dismissive comment, each comparison to more “successful” siblings chips away at my confidence until...
I’m jolted back to the present with a gasp, stumbling backward and away from Will’s touch. My heart is racing, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. The echoes of my parents’ disappointment ring in my ears, as fresh and painful as if they had just been spoken.
“What the heck was that?” I demand, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and anger. I want to curl up in a ball and hide. It was bad enough living through those moments spaced out, but to relive them in a condensed version was awful.
Will looks as startled as I feel, his eyes wide with surprise and what looks like genuine concern. “I had no idea. I mean, I didn’t think...”
I’m not listening anymore. Without another word, I turn and practically run into the safety of my trailer, slamming the door behind me. My hands tremble as I lean against the counter, trying to catch my breath and make sense of what just happened.
How could a simple touch have triggered such vivid, painful memories? How did he do that? Was it him, or did talking with Terra trigger something? The questions swirl in my mind.
I find myself reaching under the counter, pulling out the sketchbook I keep hidden there. I flip through the pages with shaking hands. Landscapes, portraits, whimsical designs.
As I stare at the drawings, I can hear my parents’ criticisms ringing in my ears. “Childish fantasies... waste of time... need to grow up and face reality...” Each word is a dagger, reopening old wounds I thought had long since healed.
The sound of Sam kicking the snow off his boots against the side of the trailer jolts me. I quickly shove the sketchbook back in its hiding place.
Sam enters, balancing two steaming cups of cocoa. His brow furrows as he takes in my appearance. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I can tell I’m pale. My face feels drained. My heart is just barely starting to slow down, and my hands aren’t steady. I force a smile, reaching for one of the cups and forcing myself to act normal. “I shoveled the walk fast. How’d it go with Alexis?”
Sam’s face lights up. “Fantastic. We’re going to the tree lighting ceremony tonight.”
“No way.” I shove his shoulder. “Epic. I can’t believe you finally asked her out.”
He blushes deeply. “Technically, she asked me.”
I laugh heartily. It sounds like it’s coming from a different dimension. I watch Sam to see if he notices how weird it is, but he’s grinning too big to pay attention to me. Alexis has him one hundred percent wrapped around her little finger.
“You should come with us,” he said before drinking from his cocoa cup.
The idea sends a fresh wave of anxiety through me. “And ruin your first date with the woman of your dreams?” I scoff. “You two have fun.”
Sam looks like he wants to argue, but a glance at his watch changes his mind. “Alright, but the offer stands if you change your mind. I’ve got to head over to pick her up. You sure you’re okay to man the fort alone?”
I nod. “Go on, I’ve got this covered.”
Sam leaves, and I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
The encounter with Will, the flood of memories it unleashed, Sam finally getting his chance with Alexis—it’s all left me feeling oddly unsettled. For the first time in years, I find myself questioning the careful routine I’ve built around myself.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I decide to go to the Tree Lighting Ceremony. Not to socialize, not to find romance, but to observe. To sketch. To capture the light and color, and life of the event in a way I haven’t allowed myself to do in far too long. I’m going to really wallow in my aloneness by being in a group of people and not talking to them. I’ll show Terra, Will, Sam, and myself that I’m fine on my own, and I can be happy with nothing more than a freshly sharpened set of sketching pencils.
I set up the skate return bin that we use when one of us has to close up for a while to take a break. I’ve never had anyone steal my skates before. I think most people don’t want to have to store them all year round.
I lock up the trailer, my hand lingering on the door for a moment. As I make my way toward the town square, the first snowflakes of the evening begin to fall, dusting the world in a soft, white glow. Good. The more snow, the fewer people who will venture out, which means fewer people to avoid. I don’t need someone special in my life. I don’t need to try new things like Will said. And I especially don’t need to be a third wheel on Sam’s date. I just need to be left alone. Why is it so hard for people to understand that?
Two
NOAH
The town square of Benton Falls buzzes with excitement as I make my way through the crowd, careful to keep my eyes down as much as possible. The air is thick with the scent of cinnamon from the vendors and chocolate from the baker on the corner that’s pumping out hot cocoa. I clutch my sketchbook to my chest, feeling like an imposter among the cheerful faces surrounding me.
As I near the center of the square, the majestic clock tower looms above, its elegant stone façade a canvas for the play of light and shadow. The intricate carvings seem to dance in the glow of the soft lights illuminating the tower.
