“Don’t thank me. I’m not giving permission because it’s not mine to give.” He stands, stretching. “Just... behonest with her. About everything. She deserves that much.”
I think about my sketchbook upstairs, about all the things I want to show her, tell her. “Yeah. She does.”
Troy pauses at the door. “And Alfie? I trust her judgment. Even when it comes to my best friend.”
I follow him inside, something settling in my chest. Not permission, not a blessing, but understanding. Respect for Tara’s right to make her own choices, her own mistakes if that’s what they turn out to be.
Now I just have to figure out how to show her that I see her - all of her - and I’m ready to let her decide if I’m worth forgiving.
32
TARA
My phone buzzes with another FaceTime request from Alex. I almost ignore it but her third call in a row suggests she won’t give up.
“Oh my God, finally!” Alex’s face fills my screen. “Did you see—” She stops, squinting. “Wait, what are you wearing?”
I glance down at my outfit, a vintage-inspired midi dress in a gorgeous emerald silk that makes my eyes pop. “Just something I threw on.”
“Just something you threw on?” Alex’s eyebrows shoot up. “That looks new. Please tell me you didn’t buy fast fashion clothes again.”
“Actually,” I spin for her, letting the silk catch the light, “I found it at that amazing vintage store downtown. Total steal.”
It’s not exactly a complete lie. Ididfind it downtown. In the department stores’ newest collection. At full price. But Alex doesn’t need to know that. She’s not as perfect asshe likes to think environmentally and I am not in the mood for a lecture today.
“The accessories though,” I continue quickly, showing off my carefully curated mix of actually thrifted jewelry, “are all vintage finds. This necklace was only twelve dollars!”
“Now that’s more like it.” Alex nods approvingly. “Though I have to admit, the dress is incredible. The color with your skin tone? Amazing. Sensational.”
I try not to feel guilty about the lie. Alex is my best friend, but she wouldn’t understand how sometimes you just need to buy the dress that makes you feel like a goddess, even if it costs more than your textbooks. Besides, I’ve been saving my Luzia tips for exactly this kind of splurge.
“I miss your fashion shows.” Alex sighs. “California is all athleisure all the time. It’s like people forgot how to dress up.”
I adjust my perfectly styled waves. “Well, someone has to maintain standards around here.”
“Speaking of maintaining standards,” Alex’s voice turns sly, “have you seen Alfie’s latest post?”
My heart skips. “What post?”
“Don’t play dumb! The animation? The girl reaching for stars? The most romantic thing I’ve ever?—”
“Alex, I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’m just getting up Instagram now.”
I scroll through my feed quickly when my thumb freezes mid-swipe. The video fills my screen - hands turning pages of a sketchbook, each frame meticulously animated. I recognize those hands. I’d know them anywhere.
Clapping a hand over my mouth I squeal.
“I gotta go, Alex. I’ll text you!”
“Wait! Are you going to?—”
I end the call before she can finish. I play the video again.
The first page shows a girl - unmistakably me - reaching toward a distant star. The star glows against the dark background, impossibly bright and beautiful. The next page shows her stretching higher, fingertips straining, while the star pulses with light. As the pages turn faster, the star moves closer, drawn to her reach.
My breath catches as I realize what I’m seeing. All those times I caught Alfie sketching in his notebook, all those moments he’d snap it shut when I got too close... he was drawing this. Drawing me.
The girl in the drawings starts to glow too, light spreading from where her fingers nearly touch the star. Page after page shows their light mixing, blending, until it’s impossible to tell where she ends and the star begins. Their collision creates a supernova that fills the entire page with radiance.
