He hisses, shaking his head. “This was a bad idea.”
“This was the best idea you’ve had in your life, Branson.” His grip on me loosens and I slide out from beneath him, settling beside him again. This time he drapes his arm over my shoulder, pulling me close, and he presses his lips to my temple.
“Mm. It was.” I sigh into his embrace, desperately trying to get impossibly closer to him. “Happy new year, Scarlett.”
I smile against his skin. “Happy new year.”
We stay like that for a couple more minutes before we finally get up to shower. Much to my dismay, we shower separately so Evan can put on fresh sheets before I return. I try not to think about touching him or finding a new way to work him up as he walks past me, still naked, and steps into the bathroom.
Lying in his bed alone, I feel . . . different. A good different. I finally feel like myself again. Away from the worries of school and the expectations of my parents. I might not know what I’m doing yet, but I’m not so scared of finding out.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: SCARLETT
“Are you okay? Do you want more tea?”
“I’m fine. Thanks, Ken.”
Kennedy still hovers over me with a steaming mug of tea she’salreadyprepared. “Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind.”
Wren nods, following Kennedy into the kitchen with the snack tray she prepared that I refused. If I eat anything more today, I think I’m going to explode. Evan’s love language is food, and I indulged because it was delicious, but going back to the girls and getting forced to eat treats 24/7 is even worse.
“You guys know I’m fine, right?” I ask, shouting so they can hear me from the kitchen.
It’s been a few weeks since Christmas and adjusting to my life again post-argument with my parents has been difficult. It’s honestly harder this time ignoring them, because I have so many questions. So many things I still don’t understand, and the uncertainty of it is killing me. But I can’t face them right now. Not after the way they made me feel. They’ve been calling every couple of days, seeing if I’ve changed my mind about answering, when I’m pretty sure they know that I haven’t.
I don’t know when it’s going to settle down between us, but I’m not holding my breath. I’m done trying to prove to them that I’m capable. IknowI am. They might not have seen it, but up until Christmas Ifeltready. My designs were near perfect, I had completed an interview, done my speech and I was one more disaster away from acing the cannoli recipe. But now that the moment has passed, I’ve got to find something else to focus on.
It’s a new year and a new semester. The best thing I can focus on right now is myself and my studies. When senior year rolls around in the fall, future me is going to be grateful that I didn’t spend all this time sulking.
“We know,” Kennedy says, returning to the living room, empty-handed this time, thank God. “We’re just trying to be here for you.”
“I know, and I appreciate it. But I’m not a sick puppy. I know how to look after myself,” I say, smiling at the two of them when they exchange a worried glance. “Besides, this really isn’t a big deal. It’s one setback. If anything, my parents have done me a huge favor.” They’re both still a little too hesitant to give me a proper smile and I roll my eyes, patting the seats beside me on the couch. “Come sit. Both of you.”
Wren skips toward me, a giddy smile on her face as she plants herself on my left side. “Yes, ma’am.”
Kennedy’s still got that crease between her eyebrows that she gets when she’s worried. I don’t know how many more times I can tell her that I’m okay before she stops worrying. I give her an encouraging smile and she finally takes a seat on the other side of me.
Wren points to the papers in my lap. “What have you been working on?”
I brush off the dust from the pencil on the paper, holding up one of the pantsuits I’ve designed. “I thought I might as well use the designs I was making for my parents and put them into a portfolio.”
“They’re so good,” Wren says, helping herself to the stack of papers in my lap. I’ve been doing a lot more of these quick doodles since leaving Evan’s house. Knowing that I’m only doing these for myself has helped in some way. It’s made it easier to create something new and fresh without any expectations.I always produce my best work that way. Not when I’ve got deadlines or I’m trying to prove something.
“I agree,” Kennedy says, pointing at a variation of outfits on one page. “Ilovethese.”
Whenever I get a compliment from Kennedy, I always feel that much better. She’s studying art and photography alongside her communications degree. I know art is subjective, but Kennedy has the best taste. It’s the reason why our apartment looks as good as it does, and she took all of our professional headshots. She sees everything with such a particular eye that when she saysmydesigns are good, I think she might be on to something.
I smile, bumping my shoulder into hers. “Thanks.”
“What are you going to do with them?” she asks.
I shrug. “I haven’t decided yet. It would be cool to submit them somewhere, but . . . you know, my family.”
“Respectfully, Scarlett, fuck them,” Kennedy says, folding her arms against her chest.
Wren’s eyes widen. “Wow, okay, Ken.”
“I’m sorry, but I mean it,” Kennedy says. “What they did was messed up. Leading you around on this whole chase fornothing. And then they had the audacity to tell you you’re not ready for that kind of responsibility. You could quite literally do anything you want, and I mean that.”
