Page 69 of Outdrawn

I scoffed, amused. "Yeah? And what's that?"

"Does she still ride that bike?"

My smile disappeared as I rolled my tongue across the inside of my cheek. Amaya pointed at me with her spatula.

"I knew it," she declared. "Bad news 101. Has my shitty dating life taught you nothing?"

"It's technically not that bike. It's a new one."

"It's a bike, Noah. That's more than enough."

"You know, you sound more like a mother every day."

She wrinkled her nose and turned back to start frying our eggs. "Shut up. I do not. I sound like a friend who's leaving for six months and worried about the one person she cares about in the world."

"Aw…wait, you're leaving me?" I leaned against the counter next to her. We'd barely moved into this place and still had to finish painting our living room and framing her creepy Halloween masks.

"I got the special effects mentorship in Cali." She beamed. "Found out last night."

"Amaya, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you." I squeezed her tight and spun us around. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I wanted to tell you in person." She poked my side. "But then you woke up looking like shit and fawning over enemy number one."

"Sage isn't enemy number one."

Amaya gave me a look.

"For now," I assured. "We are at a truce."

"Kissing someone is more than a truce," Amaya grumbled.

"You are going to be so great." I hugged her again. "You have to send me photos every day. I want to feel like I'm there, like I'm in the studio with you again and freaking out over what horrors you can mold into clay."

"Changing the subject," she scolded with a smile. "But it's to my favorite subject, me, so I'll give you a pass this one time."

I laughed and started helping her put our meal together. We ate on our balcony, where Amaya reenacted her reaction to receiving her dream news. It included jumping on furniture and crying face down on the carpet. She had me laughing so hard, I didn’t pay much attention when my phone rang, and I mindlessly picked it up. Usually, my mom called on weekend mornings to check in. Sage's voice on the other end made me jump. Amaya's eyes widened, thinking it was bad news.

“Did I call at a bad time?” Sage asked.

“No, not at all.” I tucked a twist out of my face.

Amaya let out a big sigh, realizing who it was, and I waved for her to keep quiet.

“So, what did you think about the chapters?” Right after I finished, I sent them over. Knowing Sage, she could finish them and have solid critiques ready in less than an hour. My stomach turned as I prepared myself for the notes. How bad would it be? Had my night been a complete waste?

“Ever heard of The Treehouse?”

I blinked and switched the phone from one ear to the other. “Uh…no. Is that like an art theory?”

She laughed. The sound reminded me of last night when the carnival lights made her dark skin glow and her brown eyes melt. I chewed on my lip, trying not to want to be near her again so soon. Unfortunately, I couldn't deny how deep that desire ran.

“Close. It’s kind of a restaurant slash museum.”

"Kind of?"

"It's an experience, one better lived than recounted."

“Oh…” I scratched my temple, and Amaya joined me on the couch when she heard the nerves in my voice. She tried to press her ear against the other side of the phone, but I nudged her away.

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