Page 17 of Pieces of Me

Your art is both a blessing and curse.

Your favorite—or maybe your most despised—is one you’ll hold on to for years.

You’re eight years and two days old when you put crayon to paper and draw mountains and waterfalls and sunsets and birds free to roam the vast, endless skies.Most people who look at it will see the scenery and think that was the focus. It isn’t. You created the backdrop so the birds will have something beautiful to look at, somewhere to call home.

You want to be the birds.

You want to fly.

In the future, you’ll tell the boy who sets off butterflies in your stomach all about the drawing and what it means to you. He’ll listen to every word, and then he’ll grab a marker from your bag and take your hand—something you’ve done with him dozens of times before. Only he won’t draw. He’ll write. And he’ll write the words that seal your love, fill all the gaps in your heart—a heart that beats just for him.

“Why fly when you can soar?”

At eighteen, you’ll leave that messy crayon drawing for the boy in the hopes that he’ll understand what it means.

Heads up: he doesn’t.

11

Holden

Everyone tried to convince me to go home, but there was no way I would let Jamie ruin my night.

Mylife.

Not again.

We’re at a house party, though I have no idea whose house it is or even where we are. All I know is that the beer is endless, and that beer helps with the anger and becomes my best friend. The people I came with have asked questions. Lots of them. I refuse to answer every one. And then there’s Bri. She’s only asked one question: “Do you want to tell me what that was about?” I told her no. She hasn’t brought it up since. She simply keeps hold of my hand that’s gripping hers, follows me from the keg to the couch, again and again. That’s the thing about Bri. She’s always there, whenever I need her, whenever I want her. And maybe that’s why we work. Because:

she

never

leaves

my

side.

When my head droops and my eyelids feel heavy, she squeezes my hand, whispers, “Let’s find a room.”

I get up willingly and follow her through the sea of people and toward a staircase, and while I have my own room, my ownhouse, and this is the shit I used to do in high school, there’s still a level of excitement from fooling around somewhere else. Somewhereunknown.

We find an empty bedroom as soon as we’re upstairs, and I sit on the edge of the bed while Brianna flicks on the light, closes the door, and then leans against it.

She eyes me from across the room, but it’s not the usual sultry look she gives me right before we fuck. “I’m just going to ask this one thing, and then I’ll let it go forever.”

I exhale loudly, my shoulders dropping. I thought we were done with this. Clearly, I was wrong. “Okay,” I say, because I owe her this much.

Brianna doesn’t pause, doesn’t hesitate. “Who is she?”

“She’s…” I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to Jamie. Saying “she’s an ex” doesn’t seem to validate what we had, but adding anything more might just send me over the edge. Brianna watches me, waiting, her light hair gathered over one shoulder. She’s in a dress that hugs her curves, the skirt so short, it barely covers her ass. My mind goes to what’s beneath the thin fabric, and I’m instantly done thinking about Jamie and all the useless emotions she brings out of me. I hold my hand out to Bri, praying she knows what I want. What Ineed.”She’s not my focus right now.”

Her smile is slow as she steps toward me, right between my legs. “So, what is your focus?”

With my eyes on hers, I settle my hands on her bare thighs and lift, bringing the bottom of her dress up and over her hips. “You,” I say, tugging on the fabric until she removes the dress completely and stands in front of me in only her underwear. The girl’s a knockout, no denying, and I lean forward, kiss her stomach, just below her navel. “And me.” I pull down on her underwear—the pesky little barrier—until they slide down to the floor, and then I slip a finger between her slit, smiling when I feel how ready she is. I hold her gaze while I kiss her there, just once, just a tease. “And all the endless possibilities.”

She yelps when I flip her onto the bed, quickly remove her bra, and with her completely naked beneath me, I ask, “Is there a lock on the door?”

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