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Thatcher’s business had taken off. We traveled with him when we could, but he was gone two to three days out of the week. It was tough, but we were dealing with it, learning how to co-live and long distance all at the same time.
Jonah and I planned to start school this semester, both attending the same university as Rhys. Jonah majoring in journalism and me in photography. So, I guess we took a half gap year instead of the full thing.
Funny. I never put two and two together, but Jonah and Beck being half-brothers, how crazy was it that they both excelled with words?
As for me and my art, I’d taken some paying gigs with the motorcycle clubs Thatcher had worked with, and I took tons of epic shots of my guys.
Somewhere in the last few months, Thatcher, Beck, and I had all created websites. To promote our businesses and sell our art.
On my site, I made sure strangers faces weren’t clear in the pictures I uploaded, just to make sure I wasn’t stepping on any toes. There was also a section with a different page for each of the guys, and most of those were more abstract and about the emotion and vibe than their faces.
And it hadn’t been long until someone reached out and asked to purchase a print. And so began my weirdly inconsistent print business. With art school, it would only get better from there.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Trice, I’ll see you later!” I yelled at the new girl we hired to work the counter. I say we, I wasn’t the manager but I did have a say in who worked with me.
“Got it! Peace out!” She called in her preppy, pixie like voice.
We raced home, finding a note scribbled on the fridge saying Jonah and Beck were already there. I just needed a few minutes to change and then we’d be on the way too.
When we came to Las Vegas to house hunt, we found the perfect place on the first day of hunting. Modern, large, with six bedrooms and an in-ground pool.
Graves had been spot on. They really liked to live in luxury out here. Maybe to escape the sweltering heat, but whatever the reason, I couldn’t complain.
I ran past my art exhibit hung on the wall of the staircase, past the series of paintings Thatcher had gifted me with in the hallway of our bedrooms. That was the other life lesson I learned as we hung up our various art that documented our lives together. Because we loved each other and wanted to be here, that made all the difference in making a home.
It begged the question of why I never felt that at home. Was it because I wasn’t loved? Or because my parents hadn’t loved each other?
But I was secure in my life and future with these guys, and the answer to those types of questions didn’t bother me anymore.
Changing into a pair of cute linen shorts and tank, I grabbed a sweater for good measure because I’d be cold so close to the ice.
“Ready!” I called as I jogged back down the stairs with my camera bag strapped over my chest.
The guys had pooled together and gifted me a new camera with some very nice lenses when we moved. I felt loved and guilty all at once because I hadn’t bought them anything to celebrate the new chapter in our life. But they’d waved away my self-imposed guilt and said I needed a camera.
So, I took it. Happily. And it was better than my old one, although that could be just because the lenses were nicer.
Thatcher held the door open as I ran through and jumped in his car, then away we went.
Before we knew it, we were scooting in between Jonah and Beck as we watched Rhys skate over the ice.
I gripped Jonah and Beck’s hands as Rhys skated over to the box and grabbed the microphone from the waiting attendant. Then he skated back to the middle, spraying ice over the preteen kids lined up beside him.
They oohed and awed, and he grinned at them.
“Welcome, parents and players, to our first rec game of the season. I’m pleased to be one of the co-founders and current starter for the Rebels Intercollegiate club team. For those of you that aren’t familiar with hockey, know that this is a hard, and sometimes grueling, sport. It takes dedication, determination, and a will of steel on some days to be the best you can be.
“It can also be life changing. And I hope each of you who have shown a real love of the sport continue to stick with it, and with me as one of your coaches. I have so much I can teach you, and there’s so much to learn from you.” He looked over the fidgeting kids on each side of the line.
His face softened for half a second, then his usual expression fell into place. But now it was proud. Fiercely happy in a way it never had been while he’d been living at his parent’s cottage.
Neither one of us had heard from our parents. And we were okay with that.
Because we were better off without them. Instead, shedding the weight of their pretty lies, wading through the painful and yet profound ugly truths, we sorted through our busted dreams. Some staying the same, some changing, even while we dealt with our own sometimes crippling, but vivid, fears.
As we approached the end of our senior year, all of that had accumulated into something like brittle hope. We wanted to hold onto it, grip it to our chests, but we had to be careful with it, lest it break into dust and float away on a wistful breeze.
Occasionally, the wonder would hit me, how five uniquely different people from all different walks of life, united in friendship, then something more. We banded together to build a family of our choice.
We made it. We did it.
And in our own ways, we were changing the world.
I was more than okay with that.
THE END.
