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“Hey, Mom.”
“You look beautiful this evening, Amelia,” Adam compliments her. He always does this, and she always turns to putty. It’s adorable, really.
Mom blushes a bright pink as I turn to the onyx-haired woman beside her. “Thank you for coming, Bridgett.”
Bridgett smiles kindly. “Of course. Amelia couldn’t stop talking about it all afternoon.”
“Now, where’s my little guy? I’m feeling antsy to see the little Picasso’s work,” Mom huffs.
Adam answers for me. “He should be out any minute. Why don’t you and I go see if we can find something to drink while we wait? I think Cooper mentioned there would be lemonade.”
“I would love that. You know how much I adore my lemonade.”
With a lingering kiss on my cheek, Adam tells me he’ll be right back before placing his hand on my mom’s back and steering her past all the art tables and up toward the front of the gym.
I don’t know which table is Cooper’s, but I wouldn’t dare disobey his orders. Not when he’s been so excited to show everything off.
Speaking of, I spot the curly-haired boy heading right for me. He grins when he notices me looking at him. I wave.
“Hey, SP. Where’s Dad? We’re ready to start.”
I nod to the drink stand, where Adam is nodding along to something my mom is drawling on about with a full glass of lemonade in her hand. He laughs, and I swear, even from this far away, I can feel the joy in it.
“Oh well. I’ll show you my table first, and then they can find us after.” He grabs my hand and, for the second time tonight, drags me behind him. “I wanted to see your reaction before anyone else, anyway. Before Dad steals your attention and I lose my moment. You know?”
Nerves spark beneath my skin. “That sounds pretty ominous.”
“What does that mean? I don’t think I’ve heard that word before.”
“You’re talking vaguely. It’s kind of scary, nerve-racking.”
“Ah, okay. Yeah, I know I am.”
“Can you maybe be a bit less ominous?”
“No,” he says bluntly.
I choke on a laugh. “Okay then.”
“It will be worth it, I promise.”
“Well, if you’re promising, then I’ll believe you.”
“That’s the right move. Thanks.”
We pass by two art tables and a pair of crying parents before coming to a stop in front of one with a blue covering and Cooper’s name written on a white banner pinned to the front.
“Okay,” Cooper starts, dropping my hand and twirling to block my view of something on the table. “I made this for you, but if you think it’s bad or ugly or something, we can make it disappear.”
Emotion swells in my chest at those words alone. I nod excitedly, too afraid to speak, not knowing if I’ll make any sense when I do.
“Here it goes,” he mumbles before stepping out of the way and shoving his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
The painting in front of me blurs as my eyes fill with tears. I blink profusely to try and clear my vision but only make the moisture slip down my face instead.
A turquoise-coloured lake rests behind three people. Three people who look way too similar to Adam, Cooper, and me. I flick my watery gaze to Cooper and find him watching me nervously, his eyes wide.
“Oh boy, I made you cry. Should I get my dad? Yeah, I’ll go get him,” he rambles, looking like a dear in headlights.
