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We locked gazes for a second, and I sent every 'thank you' and 'I’m so grateful you’re here’ to her telepathically.
“You should ask that community for donations,” Liana said. “Help with moving costs?”
“That’s a good idea.” Dad nodded.
“No, I have a salary,” I told them. “A full-time salary.”
“That helps you afford…” Liana looked around. "What, exactly? Because you live with a roommate, and you don't have utensils."
“Oh, my god.” I hitched out a fake laugh. “You guys can’t be serious. You’re doing this now? In front of someone who I wanted you to meet?”
Mom moved closer to me, holding her hand up like I was going to bite. “Doing what, sweetheart?”
“That?” I waved at her. “This?”
“You’re having a tantrum,” Liana said in her annoyingly calm voice. “And you’re blaming us. We stood outside for twenty minutes in the hot sun on your birthday.”
“Yes, and I appreciate the gesture of cupcakes and breakfast sandwiches,” I said. “But then you guys come up here and start acting passive aggressive—”
“How are we acting passive-aggressive?” Mom was close enough to touch me now, and I shrugged off her hand.
“Little art,” I said to her as I looked at Dad. “Nothing lucky about that paycheck. You need to ask the community for donations. I—"
“I think you’re being dramatic,” Liana cut in. “No one’s being passive aggressive--”
“Let her finish,” Sage said in a hard tone.
We all looked at her, and her expression was far too cool for my family. Sage was the definition of unbothered, and that gave me strength.
“What?” Liana asked like she didn’t hear correctly.
“She was talking, and you spoke over her.” Sage gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Look, I don’t mean to get into family business—God knows I have my own—but as an outsider, I can see that Noah lets you complete a sentence. You can and should do the same.”
Liana’s mouth dropped open. I was sure words were supposed to come out, but nothing did.
“I was saying…” I paused, looking at all the eyes on me. This had to happen. I had to be brave enough to push through this, to at least tell them how I felt. If the aftermath was a storm, then I’d get through it. I could get through this.
“Even if I didn’t make a lot with art like…ever, that doesn’t mean you guys get to shit on it.”
Mom took a breath, and I closed my eyes for a second, embarrassed about cursing in front of her even at my age.
“No, no,” I said, mostly to myself. “I meant that. I like to say shit, Mom, and occasionally hell. Damn, too. Fuck is very therapeutic.”
Sage was the only one nodding in agreement; the rest of them look confused and a little concerned.
“I’m not six. I’m not drawing stick figures and lopsided butterflies anymore, but even if I were, so what? It’d still be art. If people liked it or felt something when they looked at it, it’d be art,” I ranted, feeling stronger with every word. “What I do isn’t little. No, it’s not changing lives, like what you guys do. I’m not innovating new ways to help the environment, or implementing changes that’ll form the lives of generations to come.
“Maybe when I’m dead, my art will be buried in the sea of things on the Internet, but that doesn’t mean what I do isn’t important now. Because it’s important to me, I need you guys to treat it as important, too. Because when you don’t, I feel like crap—no, I feel like shit. You treat me like I’m some kid drawing with crayons on your kitchen counter. So, yes, it is passive-aggressive when you downplay my success. I am successful. Not in the way you guys are, but it still counts. So, you’re going to start treating me like that, or at least with common decency and politeness, for the love of God.”
I was out of breath by the time I finished. My parents and Liana stared at me with shocked looks on their faces while Sage smiled, unguarded and proud.
“So,” she broke the silence. “As we let that sink in, should we start on those breakfast sandwiches?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Sage
The latest results were in: we had one final round for the competition. Kraken was in first place. Noah was in second. Me in third. Only fifty points separated me from Noah, one fifty from me and kraken. A win was possible, but I wasn’t losing sleep over trying to find a way. In fact, I was sleeping better than ever. My last chapter was only half done, and that didn’t trigger any pain in my chest. Life was full of color again, and I didn’t want to make it fade, so I did my best not to push myself.
