Page 29 of Busted Dreams

“Well at dinner, Brad and Mom were discussing who they were going to offer the spot to. It’s short notice, since the students would leave in a little over a month, but they don’t want to let it go to waste. Guess who Brad wants to send? You, you lucky fucker!” Justin crowed.

“Brad?” I croaked.

“Mr. Douglas, sorry. They’ve been dating for a while, so I’ve started calling him by his first name when I’m not at school.”

“Are you sure? He wants to offer me the spot? He doesn’t even really know me.” I couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. There was a spot available, and I was at the top of the list.

So surreal.

“That’s not true. Don’t you remember last year he started sitting in on our painting class? He joined several critiques. Has he joined any of your class critiques this semester?” he asked like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, in both my painting and sculpture classes. The students who are selected usually excel in at least three or more mediums. I only have painting going for me. This doesn’t make sense.” It didn’t. And I also wanted it not to be true. Because what would I do if the school really did offer me the spot?

“That’s not always true. It’s just been the norm for the last few years. And he’s a big fan of yours. You’d never know it the way he harps on all our stuff, but he is.” There was a note of envy ringing through his words.

“If he’s dating your mom, why aren’t they offering you the spot?”

“Because of ethics, Thatch.” He sighed. “Even if he was willing, Mom would never let me go if I wasn’t the one that deserved it. And she keeps up to date with my professors enough to know I’m not anywhere close to the head of the class.”

I wanted to respond, but I was literally speechless.

“Isn’t that amazing?”

My phone dinged, and I pulled it away to see a message from Trinity. Finally.

“It is.” Although I sounded more like he’d just told me our favorite professor passed away. “Listen, man, I can’t talk anymore right now, but this is an amazing opportunity. I’ll see you tomorrow on campus and get all the details. All right?”

“Yeah.” He sounded baffled. I was sure he expected me to scream the city down in excitement. “Sure thing.”

“Talk to you later. Bye.”

Blowing out a breath, I clicked on Trinity’s message to see that she was home but didn’t know where I was. Honestly, I was surprised she messaged me at all. I’d only tried to text and call her a million times as I kept driving from place to place, trying to catch a glimpse of her or someone who would know her.

The drive back home seemed long and lonely. I left the music off to drown in my own thoughts and try to collect myself before I saw Trinity again, but I was still furious and frustrated by the time I pulled into the apartments.

Trudging up the stairs, I kicked old burger wrappers off the steps and then let myself into the apartment. The smell of turpentine still lingered, grounding me a bit with the familiarity. It wasn’t often I painted here, although it comforted me when I did. It was just too tempting to paint in one of the free studio spaces on campus.

There was something about being around other artists and different works of art in various stages that really fed the muse.

Trinity was sitting at the table with a half-eaten bowl of ramen in front of her as she tapped on her phone. She glanced up, and for a second, I thought I saw a glimmer of regret pass through her eyes before she dropped her gaze. Then her expression was stony and belligerent.

“You look like hell.”

“Thanks,” I sneered, and I headed straight for my bedroom. “Spending hours searching for my kid sister while worrying out of my mind will do that to someone.”

I was almost out of the kitchen when she called out to me, “You aren’t going to give me the talk?”

Without turning around, I paused. “No, Trinity. Not tonight. You’ve taught me some very valuable lessons. The first and most important is that you don’t care what I ask of you, and you damn sure don’t care how your choices affect me. I have some heavy thinking to do about how this situation is going to go if you’re going to stay here with me.”

She must have dropped her phone from the sudden clattering on the table. “What do you meanif? We don’t have any other family.”

Too exhausted to have any type of heart to heart now, I continued down the hallway, just happy she was here and safe for the night.

“What good does family do if you’re going to treat me like I don’t exist, even though I took you in when I can barely support myself? Blood means nothing.”

Her gasp tore through me. That was harsh even for me. But it was the truth. Blood meant nothing if there was no love and respect between them.

Now that she was safe, my thoughts turned toward the one dream I’d never let myself dream and how it came up at the worst time possible.

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