Page 84 of Salvation
“I think he lost points for intimidation when you broke his nose with a tire iron,” I quip.
A chorus of laughter breaks out around the group, and Hayes rolls his eyes, taking the joke in stride. Looking around, I take in the people who have been my friends over the years, who have saved me in ways they don’t know. I haven’t given them enough credit. They were always there, even when I couldn’t see it.
“You broke his nose?” Willow asks with admiration in her voice. She’s looking at MJ like she might be her hero.
MJ shrugs, unashamed. “It was an accident.”
That’s what she always claims, but knowing MJ, it was probably premeditated.
“Okay—” I say, stepping away from Ivy to stop this conversation from going any further and give Willow any ideas. “Maybe it’s time for introductions.”
“Hayes and MJ, you know Ivy, and Lily. I think you met her because she’s working on the mural for you, right?”
Lily smiles at Ivy and nods. “Yeah, I can’t wait to see the end results.”
The happiness dims in Ivy’s eyes, but she keeps a smile on her face. She’s still worried about how the mural will turn out—about disappointing the people counting on her—but she doesn’t have to. She’s going to do great. There’s no doubt in my mind.
“Me neither,” I say, looking at Ivy. “Her paintings are my favorite.”
It’s my way of reminding her of all the paintings I’ve kept over the years. It must work because her eyes shine again when she looks at Lily. “I’m just glad you gave me the chance. And actually, Willow has been helping me with it, too. She’s very talented.”
All eyes turn to Willow, who shrugs. “It’s nothing.”
“Wait—” Silas, who has been uncharacteristically quiet, sucks the last drops of his milkshake and hands the cup to Hayes, who looks exasperated, like this is something that happens often. “You’re Willow?”
“Uh—yeah, last I checked.”
“Well, shoot,” he says, digging into the pink gift bag he’d been holding and pulling out a onesie. “I don’t think this is going to fit then.”
Hayes pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “Silas, I told you fifteen times that she wasn’t a baby.”
“Yeah,” Silas agrees with a solemn nod, “But sometimes I think you got brain damage from when MJ broke your nose, so I didn’t believe you.”
A roar of laughter rips from my chest, and tears pool in my eyes. This—this right here with all the people I love surrounding me—is the reason I have decided to fight for my life. If I had given into the darkness, I would have missed this.
Chapter 36
Ivy
Laughter and cheerful voices fill the air in Campbell’s parents’ backyard—and it’s overwhelming. I’m used to social gatherings, but not like this. Not where people genuinely care for one another—where they want to be in each other’s presence. I’ve only ever had Campbell, and for so long, I didn’t have him either.
Willow and her family left a little bit ago, needing to get back because they all had early mornings tomorrow, and now I’m sitting on the outskirts of the party, a wallflower in a place I’m not sure I’ll ever really belong in. Don’t get me wrong, Campbell’s friends and family have been great, but I don’t know how to be a part of a deeply-connected group like that.
Campbell went to grab me a drink several minutes ago, but from the edge of the yard to here, he’s been stopped a million times just to talk. It made me smile because I can see how much he’s loved. I just hope he knows that.
“Hey,” a voice says to my right, and I turn to see MJ, walking up with two drinks in her hand.
“Hey,” I reply, offering her a smile. I don’t know MJ well, but she was always nice enough growing up.
“Campbell sent me with your drink. It seems Ethel and Muriel crashed the party. They claim Silas invited them, but Silas disappeared the moment they arrived. I think they’re sweeton him, and he’s smart enough to know they are chaos. So Campbell’s dealing with that.” I give her a curious look, and she must realize I have no idea who she is talking about because she goes on to explain. “Ethel and Muriel are both eighty years old and get into more trouble than most of the teens around here. Once, they “wrecked” their car just so Hayes would be called to the scene. Their bumpers were hardly touching.” She pauses, absently rubbing her pregnant belly. “Not that I blame them. I’ve done some crazy things myself for that man’s attention.”
I laugh, knowing that feeling all too well because I’ve always been desperate for even a simple look from Campbell.
“So,” I say, leading the conversation away from the desperate way I am addicted to the man. “How far along are you?”
“Almost twenty weeks. We find out what we are having next week.” The joy on her face as she talks about her pregnancy is a sharp contrast to how I felt during mine, but our circumstances were different, too. She has a husband who loves her—someone to do all the pregnancy things with her—and I did it all alone.
Bitterness tugs at my heart, but I press it down and force a smile, determined to be happy for her.
