Page 58 of My Ex-Best Friends

He handed me a key and nodded towards the store. “Just keep the front lights off. The law doesn’t like when I rent my own space out. Assholes.”

I turned back to the painting and bit my lip. “I think it needs a bit more before I call it a night.”

“The painting’s done, girlie. Step back and open your eyes. You’ll see.” He patted my back and then walked away whistling.

I did as he said and stepped back. What I saw made me laugh. The painting was a fucking effigy of my relationship with the guys. Colt’s boat, Logan’s truck, Noah’s hands, I’d even added in the treehouse in the background. It all came together in a cohesive picture of Beaumont that looked idyllic. Beaumont’sbest side shined bright. The details were my guys. I’d painted them the whole time.

Dropping my brush into the cup of turpentine, my pained laughter turned into sobs. Swearing, I wiped at my face and gathered my supplies. I was done. It was good and I could be proud of it but I’d never be happy to look at it. It would always be another reminder of how much I loved Colt, Noah, and Logan, even before I realized that’s what I felt.

Dragging everything inside, I fumbled around in the dark until I found the room at the back of the store. There was a bed and a lamp but nothing else. It was plenty.

I stretched out on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. My thoughts spun.Tomorrow, I’ll paint a nursery for a beige mom who doesn’t want color. The next day, maybe I’ll paint someone’s office. The day after, I could start repainting store signs and force people to pay me, like those men on the highway who clean your windshield before you can stop them.

Rolling over, I turned off the lamp and closed my eyes. Just a few hours of lying in the dark before I could get up and do something to distract myself.

46

***Brooke***

On the third day after everything blew up in my face, I didn’t paint an office. Instead, I got summoned to the diner by Henry. He wanted me to paint the diner. Unfortunately, he didn’t want a mural. He just knew I could paint a giant wall and figured I’d be able to handle painting the diner. The place needed a new coat of paint and I didn’t have anything else to do so I agreed. Henry was going to feed me for two weeks as a trade for my work.

I started during the lull between breakfast and lunch, moving booths away from the back wall first. Of course, I was only able to work in peace for a little while before Mom and Aunt Karlene showed up to watch me and give commentary.

“You know, no matter what, you’ve got my ass and that’s something that should cheer you up.” Aunt Karlene was extra chipper. “You could’ve been stuck with your mom’s ass.”

“I have a great ass, bitch.” Mom scoffed and watched me with a critical eye. “Do you hate me, Brooklyn?”

I nearly stumbled off the stool I was standing on. “Jesus, Mom! What are you talking about? Of course, I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you choosing homelessness over living with your own mother?”

I turned to face her, still on the stool. “First of all, I’m not homeless. Second of all, you told me I couldn’t live with you!”

“That was when Jimmy and his compression socks were living with me. It would’ve been crowded. Plus, your aunt told me to make you go live with your guys.” She pouted. “Then you stole Betty from me. I just feel like you hate me.”

“Ignore her. She’s got no Venus in her Uranus this week and she’s bitchy because of it.” Aunt Karlene waved her hand at Mom, dismissing her. “If anyone should be bitchy, it’s you. You’re having a shitty week. I have a feeling it’s going to get worse before it gets better.”

I scowled at her and then nearly fell off the stool when the front door of the diner opened and Logan walked in. I caught myself on the paint tray balanced next to me and flipped it. Paint flew through the air, drenching me from head to toe. I stood there for a second, refusing to look anywhere near Logan, and then turned around to continue painting. I scooped paint from my body and smeared it on the wall, all while fighting tears.

“Told you.” Aunt Karlene sighed. “He can’t be here. As long as he’s being mean to my niece, he’s not allowed to come to places I like. Hey! Get out of here, pretty boy.”

I cringed. “Aunt Karlene, stop.”

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. You think because you have a nice ass and a pretty smile that you get to hurt my niece and still come into this diner like you didn’t? Get out of here.”

I slipped and nearly busted my ass as I climbed down. “Tell Henry I’ll come back after the diner’s closed to finish.”

Without looking up at anyone I fled from the diner out of the kitchen exit. I stopped in the alley behind the building and just stood there, trying to keep it together.

“Brooke.” Logan’s voice was a stake through my chest. He’d followed me out. “Are you-”

“I have to go.” I hurried down the alley as fast I could in my paint filled boots. When I got to the street I stopped and looked down. My boots. They’d been with me through so much. They were ruined. I wasn’t going to cry. I’d cried too much. Sucking in air, I ran my hands over my hair and cringed when I felt all the paint.

Mom popped out of the diner, eyes narrowed. “You’re coming home with me. No daughter of mine is going to live in a store like that Wal-Mart baby movie.”

I didn’t have the energy to fight so I just shrugged and nodded. “Okay.”

“What are you looking at? You’ve never seen a woman in a mental health struggle before? Look away!” Mom grabbed my upper arm and started walking me down the street, yelling at people the whole way to her house. “I swear to god, it’s like these people have never had their heart broken and then paint spilled all over themselves.”

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