Page 61 of Maxim

In that moment, I can see it. The future we could have together.

I only need to do whatever I have to in order to make it happen.

Even if it means I will be haunted for the rest of my life.

Olena is worth it.

Groaning, I sit up straight. Tiny pinpricks shoot through my back as I change positions. I’ve sat on the floor coloring with Daryna too many times for hours on end for an hour to bother me this much.

I’m too young to feel this damn old.

“You good?” Thea asks with laughter in her voice.

“I’m fine,” I tell her as I stretch my back out.

I don’t know why, but when we decided to do our little craft today, we did it at the coffee table instead of the dining room table or the kitchen island. I’ve been hunched over for the last hour, and my back is finally protesting loud enough that I can’t ignore it any longer.

“So what do you think of diamond art?” she asks as she sets down the little tool that picks up the gems.

This is the second day of working on our pictures, and the end is in sight.

“You asked me that the other day too.”

“Yeah, and we both know you lied when you said you enjoyed it,” she teases.

“It’s okay.” I shrug.

She scoffs. “That’s a ringing endorsement. Tell me how you really feel.”

“I don’t think it’s for me. Not long term at least.”

Thea nods. “Okay, cool. What would you like to try next?”

“I don’t know.” I cringe.

“Come on. There has to be something you’ve always wanted to try that we can do.”

I bite the inside of my cheek as I shake my head. “Really, there isn’t. Having hobbies wasn’t exactly acceptable according to my father.”

“Your father is a fucking tool,” she growls, making me smile.

“I’m starting to see that. All I know is that I’m not used to sitting around without anything to do.”

“Okay, so we need to find something else.” She grabs her phone and starts typing. “I’m going to list off a bunch of things, and you tell me if they sound interesting to you, okay?”

“Okay,” I say as I lean my back against the couch.

“Rock painting.”

My nose scrunches. “People paint rocks?”

“Apparently. I won’t lie, I like you, but I don’t think I like you enough to paint rocks.”

“Noted,” I say as I laugh softly.

“Knitting? Crocheting?”

“What’s the difference?”

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