We step in, and I let them look around, let them take it in. The shed is completely transformed into a space where creating is possible, where art, healing, and emotions move between every person who dares to be vulnerable.
Just like Juniper, Saylor and me. That night healed a part of me I didn’t know was broken, and watching Juniper heal reminded me we all show something on the outside that’s not exactly what we are on the inside. Only when we feel safe do those things come out in order to process them.
Like me right now.
I’ve been holding on to so much hate towards this whole situation with Dom, I didn’t realize I could choose to be miserable, or I could try to enjoy my time and grieve our situationship like I would anything that’s been lost.
I’m not a stranger to grief, and for someone who has figured it out every time, I definitely spiral entirely too much.
So do they. Especially Lilly.
I explain all of this to them as Lilly and Willa walk around the room, touching past projects, tearing up when I express how much it’s meant to some of them and me. I explain the three classes, the ages, how efficient they’ve been.
And then, I hand her a stack of cash I’ve been saving, enough to pay for the extra supplies and then some.
“Riley, this is incredible,” she says, swallowing hard and adding, “I’m sorry I was so upset at you over a mistake. I’m stressed out to the max, and any inconvenience, no matter how small, adds more to it. It was more about the problem, not about you.”
Well, at least there’s that.
“I took it out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”
Willa takes a seat, giving us the space to explore this situation on our own. She usually mediates if she has to, but she doesn’t intervene if things are going well. Which they are.
“It’s okay. I, um, I didn’t try to order this much, you know? But it worked out in the end. Right?”
She traces the edges of Liam’s canvas, getting paint on her finger, rubbing them together, smearing it even more. I chuckle, tossing her a wipe from the counter and watching her quietly clean her finger the way I want us to have a fresh start, a clean slate.
“It doesn’t matter. I need to stop reacting to every little thing you do, even if it isn't perfect. None of us are.”
She’s not perfect? Go figure.
“You’re also not twelve anymore, and I forget I can’t protect you forever, even when I tried to tell Dominic to watch after you. I should’ve known you’re not a caterpillar anymore, but a beautiful butterfly with giant wings that should not be clipped.”
Aww, a butterfly—wait…she asked Dominic to watch after me?
“So is your plan to do this after summer camp ends? Are you really planning on staying?”
I told her from the beginning that’s what I wanted; why is it so hard for her to understand? But no, no, no change of topic. “What did you ask Dom to do?”
“Don’t change the topic. Answer me about staying for longer,” she adds as Willa stands, sensing the discomfort between us.
I cross my arms over my chest, setting a visual barrier between us. “I’m not changing the topic. You said you asked Dom to watch over me?”
“I mean, yes, I did, but not in the way you may think,” Lilly says, her voice edged with defensiveness. “I just wanted him to help you stay out of trouble.”
My brows knit, confusion sharpening into disbelief as I stare at her. So this whole time, this is what we were? Just work?
“But then I realized you two were forming a friendship,” she continues, her tone shifting—almost wistful now, like she’s replaying it in her head, “and he looked happier somehow. That man never smiled before you got here.”
I look at Willa, who pretends to zip her mouth, her lips twitching as she looks away, giving me space to process the bomb. My thoughts spiral. What is she saying?
“I thought you would go, you know?” Lilly adds, her word barely above a whisper. “And I didn’t want him to be miserable, so I just warned him about you leaving in the end, how I couldn’t lose both of you.”
“What?” The word rips out of me, sharp and stunned.
“I mean, it was just a warning,” she insists quickly, hands lifting as if to soften the blow. “It’s not like I told him to stop being friends with you.”
My mind races, trying to piece together something that makes sense, something that doesn’t feel like betrayal. When did she have this conversation with him? What exactly did she tell him? But above all, how dare she?
