Page 44 of The Hometown Legend

She didn’t even think she was particularly homely. That was the thing. She knew that so much of the way people perceived looks was in the presentation. She just didn’t know how to present herself.

Her sisters did. They were good at it. They naturally put together clothing that created an aesthetic and she just couldn’t access that.

Her mother had always been beautiful. But once their father had left, she had just shrunk away into this shell of her former self, and it was like all her confidence, all her joy, was gone.

Rory had never especially wanted to experience such a thing, but additionally she had never really felt like she could ask her mother for advice. Not when her mother was in such a dark place. And Rory had been a teenager. She hadn’t known how to handle that. And she had never really... She felt rudderless. Like she didn’t have a guide. Like she didn’t have the kind of help she wanted.

She wasn’t going to blame her mother, though.

It didn’t do to blame women for the fallout of men’s actions.

And anyway, it was fine that she didn’t know how to be shiny.

The real issue was that she also didn’t know how to show who she was.

Who is that?

She managed to make conversation just fine with her sisters. It wasn’t like she couldn’t talk to people—she could.

But she felt like there was all this burning bright potential inside of her, and she didn’t know how to dig it out from beneath the anxiety. The fear that she was doing things wrong.

You don’t even like to try, in case it all goes badly.

Right. Well. It was true. She preferred to quit than to try and fail.

So this was Rory’s List of Failures. Maybe she would fail at all of it. Again.

What a strange, painful growth endeavor.

She wasn’t sure if she was happy about it.

She looked up, suddenly overcome by a strange sensation that she wasn’t alone. And there he was. Just like that first day. All in black. The most beautiful man she had ever seen.

It was funny now. Realizing that she hadn’t had that reaction to the stranger. Just to Gideon. Gideon, the only man who had ever seemed to create that kind of response in her.

But he was more out of reach than ever. And besides, she was leaving.

“What are you doing out here?”

“I’ve taken to coming this way,” he said. “I like the solitude.”

“Me, too.”

“I guess that makes for less solitude,” he said.

“I guess.” She set her notebook to the side and stood, brushing dirt from her skirt.

“Thanks for coming by last night,” he said. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t... Well. I’m sorry that I wasn’t very pleasant.”

“You’re fine, Gideon. Will you stop apologizing for having moods?”

She was surprised by the tone in her own voice. If Gideon looked surprised, he didn’t show it.

“You’re about the only person that feels like I don’t need to apologize for my moods,” he said.

“Then everyone else is a jerk,” she said.

He chuckled. “I don’t think that’s true. But I appreciate you trying to be on my team.”

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