All I Ask(81)

I haven’t thought about that time in my life in so long. It had to have been horrible for her to make him hurt me.

She tucks her hair behind her ear. “I really miss her.”

“Of course you do, honey. She was your mom and loved you very much.”

She nods.

“I’m sorry that you’ve lost her.”

Everly is a good kid, I don’t doubt that. She is overwhelmed with feelings that she doesn’t know how to handle. When I look back at the meanest people in school, they were often the ones in the most pain. They cried out because it was easier than sitting in the hurt.

I believe it’s the same with Everly.

She lashes out because it’s the best way to hide from her grief.

“Me too.”

“Well, if you ever want to hear stories or talk about her, I’m here.”

Her brown eyes are filled with unshed tears. “Why did you guys stop talking?”

This isn’t something I feel right telling her. “Because when we’re young, we think with our hearts and forget to hear with our head.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

I laugh. “When you’re older it will. You don’t have to feel like I’m trying to take your mom’s place. I don’t want your dad to forget her. I’m just me, and all we can do is be kind, right?”

Everly’s eyes widen. “Mom said that.”

I nod with a grin. “I know.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why do you paint?”

The question brings me up short. I haven’t told her that I paint, but it’s also not top secret. Her father may have told her or even Chastity.

“I paint because the world I see isn’t the one I’m living in. So, I make the canvas into what I hope it could be. It’s hard to see things sometimes, and when I have my brush, I’m able to open my heart just a bit.”

“What if you don’t like the world no matter how you’re looking at it?”

So deep for such a young girl. I smile wistfully, wishing that she saw things easily at her age. “Then you get to create what you want or you get to paint it as ugly as it is and accept it.”

Everly looks out the window. “I don’t really feel like there’s much pretty right now.”

It’s got to be so hard to be her age and feel that way. “You know, you’re not that different from Chastity in a lot of ways. I know you don’t think so, and when I was your age I would’ve totally laughed in my face if I were you, but…” I pause, hoping she’s still with me. “In a lot of ways, she lost a parent and had very little choice in how things went.”

“And now you do?”

“No,” I tell her with all the honesty I have. “I don’t. I had to drop out of school, raise a kid on my own, and I work for my parents. I want you to see that when you’re at the top, there’s nowhere to go but down. And the top of middle or high school is really not that great.”

It’ll probably all fall on deaf ears, but at least I tried.

She nods once, exiting the car and then stops, sticking her head back in. “I wish I knew you didn’t completely suck earlier. I would’ve at least smiled at you—since you were so popular at one time and all.”

I’m not sure what exactly that means, but I’m going to pretend it’s a compliment. “Thanks…I think.”

“You’re welcome. See you around.”

I wave. “See you around.”

*



“This is a little weird,” Derek says as we make plates for the girls.

“I know.”

“But they’re working on their project, so we can’t really be blamed for this.”

Their project is due tomorrow so we suggested we’d all have dinner. It was meant to be a very casual thing, but both girls have made snide comments about this not being a regular thing.

At least Everly said hello this time to me, so there’s a small sliver of hope on that front.

They’re down in the store, doing whatever it is they need to do for this social media experiment and he and I are being very…domesticated.

Derek comes behind me, wrapping his arm around me as I plate the food. “I could get used to this.”

“You could, huh? I’m pretty sure your mother cooks for you daily.”

His low chuckle reverberates in my ear. “Yeah, but she’s not you.”

“And you think I would cook for you?” I ask as I turn around to face him. He’s totally walking into a trap, but I’m not about to stop him.

“I would hope so.”

“What would you do for me?”

He grins. “I’d definitely do things for you.”

“I bet you would, but, if I’m in the kitchen slaving away, I’d like to have specifics.”

Derek turns, looking at the door, and then back to me. “First, I’d do a lot of this…” His lips touch mine softly at first and then he deepens the kiss. My fingers tighten around his shirt, loving that this is one of the things.

“Then”—he breathes as he shifts back—“I’d do that, in other places.” My stomach clenches as I think about where his mouth would otherwise be as well.