AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Swallowing, I nod, reaching for Theo’s hand and squeezing. “I’m faced with a choice, Theo. Do I pursue my lifelong dream, or do I stay right here with the man I love?”
Theo turns to look at me, the video-game controller vanishing from his grip. We’re both lying on our backs now, grass blades tickling our skin as we stare up at the rainbow-spun sky. Shoulder to shoulder. Heart to heart. “Maybe it’s not a matter of choosing one or the other,” he tells me. “It’s just a matter of which one comes first.”
I don’t hesitate. “Brant will always come first. But…how do I know what’s best for him?” Tears wet my eyes, and my chest aches with conflict. “Oh, Theo, this is so hard. This is impossible.”
“When you wake up, you’ll know,” he says gently. “You’ll have your answer.”
Our fingers interlace between us in the grass, and when I glance at him, he’s a young boy again. Small but mighty. My fierce protector.
My big brother.
His freckles spread and scatter as he sends me a lopsided grin, his eyes glinting with gallantry. “Don’t worry, Peach… I’ll save you.”
And in a flash he sits up with a wink, lifting his hand filled with sparkling pixie dust and blows it right into my face.
I inhale a sharp breath.
My eyes ping open.
Thunderous heartbeats reverberate through me, and my skin feels damp and clammy as I sit up straight in bed.
Blinking, I grip the front of my nightshirt, fisting the cotton between shaky fingers while new daylight spills in between cracked drapes. And when my eyes adjust from the sleep fog and the dream haze, my gaze lands on the far wall, fixing on the canvas perched above my dresser.
The painting of a fearless bluebird with rainbow wings, soaring skyward, daring to dream.
The one Theo bought for me.
“You’re going places, Peach. You really are. And I’ll be cheering you along, all the way to the top.”
I cup a hand over my mouth as emotion sluices through me. As awareness flows through me. As my vivid dream with Theo both guts me and pieces me back together.
I feel him with me.
Right here, right now.
I feel him.
Whipping off the bedcovers, I slip into a pair of shorts and throw my hair up into a sloppy ponytail, then look around for my shoes and purse.
I race out the front door of the apartment, already knowing Brant isn’t sleeping in the room beside mine. He hasn’t come home yet. It’s been four days since my emotional showdown with Mom and Dad, and I haven’t seen Brant since I left in a tear-filled rush that morning.
No phone calls. No checking in.
Only a single text message that first night:
Brant: I need to clear my head. Kip is letting me sleep on his couch for a few days. I’m sorry, Junebug. I’m sorry I’m not strong enough right now. I’m sorry I let you down, and I’m sorry for loving you in the worst possible way. I failed to protect you, and it’s killing me. I need to figure out what’s best for us—for you. I just need some time.
I cried myself to sleep that night, and then again the next night.
And not out of anger. Not out of resentment that Brant allowed me to deal with the fallout with my parents all on my own. I didn’t cry because of him.
I cried for him.
He shut down.
He’s hating himself right now, and I can’t think of a sadder thing.
Tugging at my ponytail, I traipse through the parking lot and hop into my car, pausing to pull out my cell phone before I start driving. I shoot a quick text to Brant as I fend off tears.
