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“Making this place mine.”
He eyes the black paint I bought.
“By painting the wall black?”
“I’m not painting the whole wall.”
He narrows his eyes. “What are you up to, Meadows?”
“Nothing,” I sing-song, reaching for the grape Fanta beside my bed. I take a sip and grab the gallon of paint. I don’t think I’ll use a whole gallon, but I figure if I have to retouch it at all, at least I won’t have to worry about buying more.
I turn my music on, Fortress by Lennon Stella filling the space.
Sage pokes his head in as Ansel sits his butt on my bed. Ansel shoots to a standing position like he’s been caught stealing. Or in his case more likely selling drugs. Sage’s eyes move to him and he shakes his head.
“What do you want?” I ask Sage, pouring out the paint.
“Nothing,” he watches the black paint fill the tin, “just glad you’re finally making the place yours.”
Sage leaves and Ansel hesitantly sits back down on my bed, picking up one of the pillows and looking at it before he puts it back.
I dip the brush into the paint and get to work.
It takes hours and I climb on and off the ladder so many times I get a hell of a workout in, but at the end it’s all worth it.
The black lines form a sketchy asymmetrical outline of my face and hair. It’s like the sketches I’ve filled my pad with all school year. Like me, none of them are fully formed; the outline is the potential of what’s to come. It’s the start. The end isn’t here yet.
“I like it,” Ansel murmurs, stepping up beside me.
“I do, too.”
I didn’t want to make myself permanent in this place in any way, but that changes now. I still long to travel, to see the world, be free, but it’s also okay to plant roots—to belong. I haven’t allowed myself to do that. It hurt too much after Portland. Losing people I loved and cared about sent me wandering, I was an unmoored raft drifting through a bleak and lifeless existence.
Lachlan pulled me back to shore, but it’s me who’s choosing to stay.
Chapter Sixty-Five
Pushing the food around my plate, I contemplate the best way to approach this with Sage. I don’t want to hurt his feelings, but I also have to do what’s best for me.
“Sage?” I finally broach.
He looks over at me with my legs crossed under my body. I have
n’t been paying a bit of attention to the TV screen.
“Yeah?” His brow furrows with worry. “What’s going on? You look funny.”
I reach for my water glass, taking a few sips. Meeting his steady gaze, I blurt, “I’m leaving.”
He snorts. “What do you mean you’re leaving?”
“Graduation is in less than two weeks. I’m leaving after.”
“Leaving?” he repeats. “For where?”
“I’m not sure where I want to go first, but I know I need to get away. I want to travel, see the world, learn more about myself so I can make a decision on what I want to do with my life.”
I’ll gain access to the money left to me by my parents after I graduate high school. I know there’s plenty of money for me to travel and live off of, and I’ll still have plenty whenever I come back.
