“The truth is, I just want to take Starlee and toss the other ticket. Charlie won’t really care.”
“Does she want to go?”
“I haven’t asked. I’m worried her mom will say no and it’ll just create problems.”
I cut the dough into pieces, the right size to fit in the pan. “I hear that. Things have been tense between them, right?”
“I think so.” He adds another lemon, juggling them. That’s the weird thing about George, he can barely walk sometimes without breaking everything in the room, but he’s got a delicate hand when it comes to painting and can actually juggle. “I think it’s about college.”
“Me too.” Starlee is definitely procrastinating on her applications and changes the subject every time it comes up. I consider his dilemma. “Maybe that’s your in.”
“What do you mean?”
“Tell Mrs. Jones you want to give her the chance to visit the college—see it for herself. The pressure will be off since it’s not one she really wants to attend. Starlee will just think she’s there to help set up and give support during the show.”
He catches the lemons and drops them back in the basket one by one. “That’s a pretty good idea.”
“You’re welcome.” Instead of a thanks, George sighs. “What?”
“Can you at least make it chocolate next time? You know how I feel about lemon.”
“Dude, let it go.” But when I look up he’s laughing—trying to get under my skin. “If you’re going to stay in here and bother me, start peeling those.”
He grimaces but walks across the room for the right tool. He flicks on the iPod in the process, pulling up some music. The talk we just had reminds me that he’ll be leaving soon—that the four of us won’t always live together—and as much as he annoys me, I’ll miss him.
Change is coming to the wayward sons, good stuff for once. I hate that Sierra is missing it—but I’m also proud that we’re able to manage it on our own.
13
Starlee
“How did you get my mom to agree to this, again?”
We’re pulling up to the SCCAD campus after a long three-hour drive. The back of the Jeep is crammed with George’s carefully packed artwork. When we’d left at 7 a.m. my mother just gave me a hug and told me to be safe and to have fun before sending me off on an overnight trip with a handsome boy.
George looks over, grabs my hand and winks. “I worked my charm, that’s all.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not that charming.”
He shrugs but doesn’t say any more. I wondered when we left, whose soul he sold to get her to let me go—his or mine. Now that we’re here, hundreds of miles away, I don’t really care.
“The paperwork says we should go to the exhibition hall first and unload everything.” I point to the building on the map and we make our way to the parking area.
I have to give George credit. This is a pretty big undertaking. The college makes them do everything on their own for this. Pick out the work, make tags with descriptions and pricing. Together we load everything on a dolly and he pushes it toward the entrance. He introduces me to Ms. Sparks, the woman that came to tell him he’d been accepted to the program. She seems genuinely excited about George’s work and pride for him swells in my chest. There’s something about seeing him in this setting—in his element, that makes me view him differently. He’s not the goofy boy from next door, painting murals on the coffees shop wall, but a real aspiring artist.
It takes a few hours to get the art up on the walls. He’s a perfectionist, placing and replacing things over and over again. He asks for my opinions and I give it, but I can tell he’s in his own world. When he’s finished we pack up the boxes and leave them in the back of the car. Lunch is in the dining hall and a tour of the campus is right after.
I tug him to the side as the tour group gathers. “You okay if I go back to the room and take a nap?”
His eyebrow raises. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m beat and want to shower and get ready for tonight.”
“You want me to go back with you?”
I shake my head and squeeze his hand. “Nope. I’m fine. Go look around. Bond with the other artists. This place is really amazing.”
A slow grin spreads on his lips. He looks so happy here—content. I feel a little jealous. Not over him finding such a great fit, but not knowing how to find one for myself.