I once read of something that symbolized both joy and transformation—a beautiful representation of a new beginning. Sometimes even referred to as a wish-granter. Like a genie but with graceful wings.
“A blue butterfly,” I answer with a wide grin. Then I reach my right hand across my chest until my fingers rest on the back of my left shoulder. “Here.”
“That’ll look beautiful,” Holly answers. “Let me sketch up something really quick for you, and we’ll check placement.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I feel Milo’s eyes on me and turn to see him grinning. “You’re really doing this,” he says.
“Do it for the plot, Hot Shot,” I tease. “What are you thinking? Big dragon on your arm? My name across your chest?”
“I was thinking something bold. Something meaningful. Like a stick figure that saysI survived Sadie’s list.”
I laugh. “Cute.”
He smirks. “What else did you expect?”
“So—” I let the word hang.
“So.”
“I really liked your teammates.”
Milo puts his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Yeah, they’re good guys.”
I let a few seconds pass before I say, “You seemed to belong there.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
But I’m not sure I believe him. I was there when Milo first picked up a football. I saw the way his world expanded, just like mine does when I pick up a book. He read the game like he knew its secrets. It’s why everyone in Dusty Hollow knew his future would be way outside our zip code.
Holly reappears quickly from the back with a small paper in her hand. “Okay, Sadie. I kept it simple. This is just the outline, then we’ll fill it in with a bright blue and some shading. What do you think?”
She shows it to me and I nod, my pulse beginning to knock harder against my wrists.
“Let’s check placement,” she says. “If you can just slip your strap down your arm . . .”
I take the thin yellow strap of my sundress and slip it down my shoulder, looking behind me at Milo watching. He’s gazing at me intently, his eyes heavy. My stomach dips.
Holly presses the butterfly on my skin. “This is a stencil so you can see where it’ll be. If you hate it, we can wash it off and try again.” She peels the plastic off, leaving the outline of a butterfly on my shoulder, then hands me a mirror. “Thoughts?”
My lips spread into an easy smile as I see the reflection of the butterfly fluttering on my own skin. “It’s perfect.”
“Great. I’m going to get my space ready. There’s a large mirrorover there if you want to look at it some more.” She points toward an ornate golden mirror on one of the walls.
I walk over to the mirror, then turn my back toward it to continue to admire the outline.
“Last chance before it’s permanent,” Milo says as his grin joins mine in the mirror.
“What do you think?” I ask.
Milo gets closer, his left hand now on my waist as his body grazes up against mine, only the static of fibers separating us. His breath is hot on my shoulder as he glances at the butterfly. “It’s very you. Why a blue butterfly?”
“I read once that a blue butterfly symbolizes transformation and new beginnings,” I explain.
“Like your list,” he says softly.
“Likeourlist,” I amend.
