Page 102 of Taylor

She had this.

“I think I need to allow myself to be who I am because I’ve been trying to be who everyone seems to think I should be. All that has done is left me with no sense of who I am, only a sense of how much I suck at everything.”

“Alice. You don’t suck at everything,” she said softly.

“I know, but I’ve felt like that for a long time. Taylor helped me to see that maybe I’m not the problem. Maybe I can’t meet the expectations you put on me, but that’s not my fault. I’m trying to be kinder to myself, and I would love it if you could join me in that. But I’m making some changes in my life, whether you support them or not.”

Isabelle tilted her head, seeming to look at Alice in a new light, while Coach sat silent, eyes wide, taking in Alice.

She was magnificent.

“I’ve been talking to Taylor’s mom. She’s an author, and she hired me for some character art, and lots of her author friends are always looking for artists. I’ve also been working with Sasha on a series of drawings with the players. The organization might buy them from me for social media.”

“Really?” Taylor asked.

This was new information to him, but he was so happy.

She looked up at him and nodded. He gave her hand another squeeze under the table as she continued.

“I know I’ve tried to use my art as income in the past, but I was still trying to do it the way you and mom thought I should. I’m not going to be good with that mentality of push and generate and sell. I need to do this my own way. And if my own way includes getting someone to deal with the business part of it, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll figure it out. I’m going to work at my own pace at the things that fill me up and make me feel like myself.”

“I only ever wanted to help,” said Isabelle, defeated.

“I know... but it wasn’t helping. I need to do this. I need to figure out how I work and who I am. I can’t figure those things out if I’m always trying to be something I’m not.”

The waitress brought their food, and everyone sat in stunned silence.

“Can we get a to-go container?” asked Coach.

Alice deflated next to him. Heat surged through him.

Was Coach really about to walk away from this conversation?

“Isabelle, I think you need to leave. I came here today to enjoy my time with Taylor and Alice, not put her on trial.”

“Dad . . . I was just trying to help.”

“You’re not helping, and it sounds like you haven’t been helping for quite some time,” he said firmly, looking at her over his glasses.

Her mouth snapped shut, and she looked around the table.

“Alice, I’m sorry. You’re right. I haven’t been as accepting as I could have been. While my intentions were good, it is possible they were misguided.”

“It’s okay,” Alice said quietly.

“I’m going to go. Sorry I interrupted your lunch,” she said, packing up her food. “I really am sorry, Alice. Can we talk soon?”

Alice nodded as Isabelle stood.

Isabelle just looked at Alice for a moment before reaching over and giving her shoulder a squeeze. Her ponytail swung once more as she turned to leave. The three of them sat at the table and the silence hung over them.

“I’m sorry, too. I should’ve known what was happening,” Coach Wagner said softly.

“It’s fine, Dad. If you’ll excuse me. I need to use the restroom.”

She let go of Taylor’s hand and moved to slide out of the booth. He grabbed her hand back and looked at her, searching her eyes for whatever emotion she was feeling.

“I’m okay,” she said softly and cupped his face and stood and walked to the bathroom.

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