“We’ll be out in a minute, Mom,” Mac said.
Vivian returned to the living room, where my guys, Noble, Bash, Theo, and Bram were waiting. Everyone was here today to see if I won. If I did, we’d celebrate. If I didn’t, we’d celebrate anyway. The guys and I left for California in a week, and this would probably be the last big gathering we had with everyone we cared about before we left.
I had found out I’d gotten into the art school in California the same day as Roe had learned he’d gotten accepted to Stanford. We had received our acceptances two days after my childhood home burned down with Mother and Prue dead inside.
So much had happened in the past two months, both good and bad. Mostly good. Some moments went by in a blur; others were agonizingly slow.
That night two months ago, Bram and my guys had gotten to me faster than it had taken firefighters to arrive. I had just been sitting there as they rolled up. The guys didn’t like having to waiton Bram to finish hugging me and making sure I was all right to do the same.
As the firefighters worked to put the fire out, I spoke to the police and told them what had happened. It took a while to completely extinguish the fire and by that point most of the house was gone. I wasn’t too upset about losing it. There had been too many bad memories in it, and I’d never planned on living there again. I was in more shock at having to shoot my own mother than anything.
I’d had nightmares for a while. Usually I saw Prue’s dead body or relived shooting Mother. Wyatt, Roe, and Reid took turns sneaking over when I couldn’t stay at their places to hold me while I slept. As the weeks passed, I was able to go longer and longer without having the bad dreams.
There was a funeral for Prue. My guys, Bram, and JJ attended it with me. I felt so bad for her family. I’d asked JJ to help me anonymously reimburse them for all the funeral costs. I wanted to give them more, but JJ said it was difficult just to give the little bit of money for the funeral. He said that to push more on them would only upset them and defeat the purpose of giving it to begin with.
After the funeral, my guys and I finally took the time to sit down and really discuss what was the best path to take. Roe told them that he also got accepted to MIT. We talked about it for a long time. Going over the pros and cons of California versus Massachusetts, MIT versus Stanford, the different art schools in each state, where we would live. Roe had been set on California because of me. I had been set on MIT because it was a better school for the career he wanted. After going over everything, it was Reid and Wyatt who made the decision. Of course, they sided with Roe, but I couldn’t be mad about it. I was part of them now and they wanted what was best for me, too.
We started making plans after that. When we first got to California, we were going to stay in the beach house I owned, but had never been to, until we found a house near Roe’s and my schools. We’d already hired a realtor to help us as soon as we arrived next week.
Before leaving the bathroom, Mac told us not to worry about her for the rest of the day and said we would talk more later. Going out into the living room and acting like everything was fine despite knowing what Mac was going through was odd. I had plenty of practice pretending that everything was all right when it wasn’t. My life was different now, though. It felt harder to slip on a fake smile around people who loved me.
As soon as I walked into the room, Wyatt announced that it was time as he scrolled the gallery’s website on his phone while sitting on Bram’s large modular couch. I took a seat next to him, with Reid and Roe sitting on either side of us. Everyone scooched in or stood closer, waiting for Wyatt to make the announcement.
“The Noah received the most votes! Lottie’s piece won!” Wyatt yelled.
Everyone cheered. My fake smile shifted into a real one at seeing everyone around me so happy—and for not just any reason, but for me. I’d gone from having no one to having a room full of people. That felt more rewarding than my drawing winning.
I glanced at Mac. Things were scary for her right now, but I hadhopethat everything would work out in the end. For her. And for me. For all of us.
Later that night, the guys and I ended up going to Reid’s place. There were boxes all over his loft. Some fully packed. Some open and still being filled. The four of us had just gotten done eating and watching a movie.
Currently, Wyatt and I were having a competition drawing each other. We were sitting on the floor facing one another with a pad of paper and pen in each of our hands. Roe and Reid watched us from the couch while smoking a joint.
“So what are you going to sell The Noah for?” Wyatt asked with his eyes glued to his paper.
“Someone already bought it,” I said as I looked back and forth between him and my drawing.
I felt three sets of eyes on me.
“Who bought it?” Roe asked.
“My grandfather. He called an hour after the winner was listed on the gallery’s website. He gave me twelve thousand for it,” I said.
Wyatt whistled. “It was worth it, but damn. Imagine being able to throw twelve grand down like it’s nothing.”
I didn’t comment. Roe and Reid seemed to understand what he was saying, at least.
Roe came over and sat behind me with his legs framing mine. He offered me the joint as he took in what I drew of Wyatt over my shoulder.
“Using pen sucks,” I grumbled before taking a puff.
“Still a thousand times better than the stick figure I would have drawn,” he said as he pulled my hair away from my shoulder and kissed the side of my neck.
“I wanna see.” Wyatt set his drawing aside and crawled across the small space between us.
I pressed my pad of paper to my chest, hiding it from him. “Do I get to see yours?”
On his hands and knees in front of me, he smiled and leaned in to peck me on the lips. “Later,” he said as he pulled away. He took the joint from me, puffed, then held it out to Reid, who reached over and took it.
