Page 28 of Glad You're Here

The missionaries ate quickly—Elder Smith clearly wanted to leave my wicked home as soon as possible. As they stood by my front door, Elder Benton smiled and said, “Thanks for being nice to us.”

I returned a genuine smile. “Sure thing, kid.”

Elder Smith blurted out a curt thank you and hurried into the cold night with his companion close behind.

After the missionaries left, I closed my door with a sigh and pulled out my phone. I wouldn’t stop thinking about Levi any time soon, and I wasn’t that angry anymore. I had to stop kidding myself.

I typed and deleted six different messages to Levi. In two of them, I apologized for freaking out at him that morning after he boned some stranger. We weren’t together. I’d given him no hint of my possible feelings, and he had the right to stick his dick—that I didn’t own— wherever he wanted. I overreacted. After deleting those, I typed that I missed the shit out of him. Then I wrote a less honest one about being super busy but wondering how he was. Finally, I settled on a message where I glided right over the elephant in the room and pretended it didn’t exist.

Classic Thea.

Did you send missionaries to my house tonight?

What? No! What happened?

I made them tea, fed them, and sent them on their merry way.

You were nice to them? Why?

Because of you, dumb ass. And I wasn’t totally nice. I made them uncomfortable several times.

Levi replied with a smiling emoji. I accidentally smiled in real life.

I wish I could have been there.

Only seconds later, another text came through.

It’s good to hear from you, Thea. How are you?

I didn’t answer right away. Did I want to torture him or protect me? We may never know.

Instead, I wandered back to my studio and picked up my brush again. I painted a cliff with blacks and browns and a clear blue skyline. Then I added a figure at the cliff’s edge— a thin woman in a flowing yellow dress with wild tendrils of purple hair swirling in the breeze. Her position was precarious, but her back was turned to the cliff, and she faced the safety of blue skies and solid ground.

What would she do next? Walk away, or turn around and jump? And did jumping mean death or freedom?

I dropped my paintbrush again, sensing the lateness of the hour. I’d finish this story, this painting, another day. I retrieved my phone and headed for my bedroom, finally answering Levi’s text.

I’ve been okay. I’ve been painting a lot. How are you?

He answered, even though it was close to 2 am.

I’ve been okay, too. I told my family to go to hell. You would have been so proud. I got my first tattoo, and I’m taking graphic design classes because I hate accounting.

Can I see your paintings?

I smiled and headed back to my studio to take some photos. I left out the one I’d started tonight, and I left out any with Levi’s eyes in them. There was a surprisingly large amount. After I sent the photos, I texted:

Can I see your tattoo?

Thea, there are a lot of flames in those paintings. I’m sensing a theme. ;) They are stunning. And yes, you can see the tattoo.

He sent a photo of his right arm. Broken chains ran down his bicep, ending right above his elbow. I smiled and touched the photo like a weirdo.

Badass, Levi. Love it.

And just like that, we started texting daily as if nothing had happened to blow up our friendship.

twelve

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