Page 124 of Don't Make Me Beg
We’ve just got one more thing to do before we can officially call this festival a success.
“So how did you get the idea? To make L.O.K.I. the Phantom?” Scout asks.
I scratch my neck, trying to pinpoint how it all came to me. “I’d wanted to use my skillset to bring something fun and different to the festival, and I was inspired by Ivy’s photoshopped Phantom pictures last year.”
“I was trying to figure out what direction I wanted to take it, and then L.O.K.I. got in trouble, so I had to pause to deal with that shit show. I was racking my brain trying to figure out what to do with him to keep him occupied, and the idea started to form. Then when we had that rainy week at home, our Fortnite marathon was what gave me the final piece to the puzzle.”
“Wow.” She shakes her head. “You seriously are a genius. You’ve got the brains and the beauty. How does it feel to be God’s favorite?”
“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t have done it without your painting, you know.” I toss the compliment right back to her, watching her expression shift from playful to serious. I nudge her with my shoulder. “It’s almost like you could make a whole career with this art thing.”
She grows quiet for a moment, then finally says, “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“Oh, I know I am. But it’s good to see you’re finally catching on.” I wink, steering our conversation back to an easier, playful vibe.
My mind is already brimming with ideas of how to help her with her confidence levels… but those will have to wait until we’re alone. Right now, we’ll just start with this mural reveal.
We make our way to the podium on the small stage Roman built directly in front of the mural as the crowd begins to form around us, filling in the gaps and spilling out onto the closed-off street.
It’s not the most ideal setup for a closing ceremony, but I couldn’t think of a better way to close out this festival than to reveal the piece of art that will be a constant reminder of what this town believes in.
I look to my left to see Roman, hand on the rope and Guy stationed across from him on my right, ready for the reveal.
My parents are a few rows back, waving to get my attention, phone in the air. I give my mom a wave when I see her, and when she flips her phone around, I see Ivy and Leo on the screen. They both smile and wave excitedly, and I can’t help but feel relieved to have pulled this day off. So far, anyway.
I’m not out of the woods yet. There’s still plenty of time to fuck this up.
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I catch it, remembering the conversation I just had with Scout.
The hypocrisy of my self-perception isn’t lost on me. All this time, I’ve been pushing Scout to take herself seriously as an artist, but I can’t even let myself be proud of my own accomplishments.
Sure it’s hard to let people in, let them see me taking things seriously. But how can I expect to take myself seriously if I can’t even be honest with myself?
Scout’s twirling her hands, staring off into the distance. She’s in her head, no doubt, fucking terrified that they’re not going to like it.
I take her hand, commanding her attention as I lower my voice and whisper in her ear. “Breathe, Scout. I’m right here with you.”
She sucks in a deep inhale, as she wipes her palms against her shorts.
“That’a girl. You ready to do this?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“I can work with that.” I turn on the mic.
“Thank you all for coming out today. This year we’ve had a record-breaking attendance, which also means we’ve exceeded our fundraising goal and will be able to give even more to the charities we’ve partnered with.
“None of this would be possible without your support and enthusiasm, so I want to give a special thank you to everyone who donated, volunteered, and spread the word about this wonderful event.
“As you all know, our very own Scout Kingsley has been working tirelessly all summer on something very special, so without further ado?—”
My words are interrupted by someone shouting as they push through the crowd.
“Move. Out of my way.” Judge Sinclair slowly shoves his way to the front, Scout’s weasel of an ex right on his heels. He stepsonto the makeshift platform and pulls an official looking piece of paper from his back pocket. “Sorry, folks, but I’m going to have to shut your little art show down.” He holds the paper up, spinning around to show everyone. “Your leader here failed to acquire the proper permit, which means you’re all complicit in a criminal act…”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Scout
