He smiles, shaking his head.
“I think it’s change, Cam. I think things were evolving, between you and Violet, and within yourself. And I think it scared you.” He leans back in his chair. “I think you like to be around Violet, and that within itself is scary enough. But when you add the threat—” he takes a mini action figure off his desk, plopping it right down in the center, “of losing her, it’s overwhelming. The idea that dependency is entirely unhealthy doesn’t help either. So, you’re trying to control the outcome of the situation, by ending it.”
I listen to Dr. Burton carefully, my chest tightening when he says the word “scared”. I think about the night Violet told me how she felt, and how she too said I was scared. It didn’t make sense to me then. I didn’t understand how I could be scared of something I didn’t even want. But when Dr. Burton puts it the way he did, when he said that I’m scared because it’s change, I realize that he’s right. And that means Violet was right too.
No matter how irritating she can be, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, I like being around her.
No.
I love it.
There’s something so spectacular about Violet, how she’s lost so much and still acts like she has everything. She’s so courageous and so thoughtful. I never washed the pillow she used that night she stayed over, because it still smells like her. I got vanilla ice cream at Mountain Scoops yesterday, because I missed the taste of her lip balm. She makes me see all the amazing possibilities in The Realm. She makes me want to try new things.
I’ve spent the last five years running from change, sticking with even the worst people, the worst situations, because I was scared the next would just be worse. So, I don’t know how it happened, really. How I fell for Violet and didn’t even notice until now.
It’s a silent killer, change. It has a way of creeping up on you. Not always, of course. Sometimes it’s loud and sudden, like an avalanche. But then there’s times like this. The snow melts slowly, trickling off the mountain almost unnoticeably. Then the trickles, the dewy drops, turn to streams. And eventually, without even realizing it, a waterfall forms, washing over the rock that was bare only months prior.
Falling for Violet was more like that. But finding out?
Finding out is an avalanche.
Tears pools in my eyes, the salt stinging as my head falls into my hands.
“So it’s not like Cody?” I ask, my voice breaking. I don’t need to ask it, not really. I know the truth. But I want to hear someone else say it. Someone who is less of a mess. Someone who knows what they’re doing.
“Does she control you?” he asks. I shake my head. “Tell you what you can and can’t do outside of a work setting?”
Well, she’s bossy as fuck in bed but...
“No.”
“Does she make you feel helpless, like you can’t exist without her?”
“No.”
“Well, then, Cam—” I look up, and he flicks the action figure over. “No. It’s not like with Cody.”
I drag a nervous hand down the side of my dampened cheek, wiping it over my mouth as I breathe slowly.
“What do I do?” I ask. Dr. Burton smiles.
“It’s change. You let it happen.”*
“Is this real?” I ask, turning the check over in my hand. It looks like a real check. Hell, it feels like a real check. But the number scrawled across the front in pen?
That can’t be real.
Adrian nods their head enthusiastically, practically screaming as they barrel through their apartment with the human version of zoomies. They throw their arms around me, squeezing tightly.
“I’m going to throw up,” they say.
I read the check again. It’s from the Pacific Mountain Gallery of Fine Arts. From Anassia Walker.
Apparently, Adrian’s piece has gained so much traction and publicity that she decided to make it a permanent feature in the museum.
For one hundred thousand dollars.
“It’s all thanks to you!” they say, squeezing me tightly. “Thank you.”