Page 24 of Beautiful Delusions

When the abstract painting is announced, I sit up a little straighter. The image on the tiny woman’s board doesn’t do it justice. If we hadn’t stopped to appreciate it in person, I’d have never been able to tell how the paint is built up with layers, how the back-and-forth swirling of bold color gives my eyes a trail to follow. There isn’t one focal point, unlike the printedimage currently being held up on the board. The bids start low without any takers, and even Ms. Carver frowns. “That’s a bid of fifty dollars, going once, going twice…” Her makeshift hammer hovers in the air. My heart drops.

“Thirty thousand dollars!” Isabella cries, her paddle flying into the air. I flinch, my jaw dropping. The canteen beats a moment of silence before Ms. Carver stutters over herself before announcing, "Sold!" The applause is deafening. The other artists pull the awestruck woman in for hugs, patting her shoulders until she believes it to be real. Placing down her board, she rushes through the tables to give Isabella a ticket stub with the number of her painting on it.

“Thank you so much!” she says, on the verge of tears. Isabella slides out a graceful hand.

“Hard work deserves to be recognized. Thank you for your contribution this evening.”

My mom snorts. “Show off.”

Isabella pretends not to hear her, waiting for the artist to skip away before sliding the ticket stub across the table to me.

“For you, my dear.” My jaw drops, and I try to object, but Mason pulls Isabella under his arm, his eyes twinkling.

“We insist,” he smiles warmly.

“But..but I don’t have anywhere to put it,” I blush, remembering that I’m essentially lodging at Thorn Manor. A temporary stay until the end of the semester.

“Well, then we will keep it safe for you. This will give you a reason to visit our home sometime, until you’re ready to take it.” Isabella smiles and I could weep right then and there. It’s not the painting or the monetary value, but the thoughtfulness. Isabella knows what it meant to me. Somehow, even beyond the end of the school year, I’ve become welcomed in the Thorn’s family home. A place I know would be filled with love and support,until a sudden bucket of ice doses the warmth that was building inside. Lucas won’t be there.

As the night comes to an end, I reluctantly pull myself away from their comforting presence. They’re too accepting, too easy to become wrapped up in. We stroll out of the canteen and through the central courtyard, which has come to life beneath reams of twinkling lights and ribbons. The moon is visible through a sheet of thin clouds, steadily flowing over a calm evening. I hug Isabella and Mason tightly, thanking them for a lovely evening. Pulling back from our embrace, Isabella’s eyes roam over my face.

“We’ll see you soon,” she promises. I watch the pair walk away, hand in hand, laughing softly about something Mason whispered into his wife’s ear. It all seems so simple, to be in love and to be loved in return. Something, I realize, I’m yearning for. Love and simplicity. Somehow, I know the familiar voice calling out behind me won’t let that happen.

“Sophia,” my mom’s voice makes my heart skin, but I lift my chin, not wanting to show weakness.

“What are you even doing here, Mom?” I ask, raising a brow. Lucas dips his head to my ear.

“We’ll wait just over here,” he breathes. I vaguely watch out of the corner of my eye as he and Kyan have to manhandle Ezra over to the fountain, giving my mom and I some space. In the low lighting, I face her head on the first time. She’s pale, the shadows under her eyes appearing too dark. Beneath her turtle-neck sweater and jeans, she’s painfully thin. The only similarities we bear are the paleness of our blue eyes and the scars I know we have hidden beneath our sleeves. Although hers are entirely self-inflicted.

She swallows hard, glancing nervously at the boys before attempting to usher me further away from their protectivepresence. I stand my ground, not willing to let her control me any longer.

“I wanted to see my daughter,” my mom tries to sound convincing. I fold my arms. “Well, I mean, that…and I've been having a rough time lately. Jude left me, and I can't cover the rent,” she admits hesitantly, her eyes flickering over my shoulder to look at the boys.

“Jude left you?” I narrow my eyes. “After everything you’ve done to protect him?” My mom nods, a theatrical show of sniffling and tears sipping happening.

“He…he said I didn’t have what he needs anymore. That I’m–I’m too old for him now.” My stomach churns.

“Mom, that’s sick. You know what he needed from you, right?” She looks at me too acutely. Yeah, she knew exactly why Jude had been hanging around for all these years. He was waiting for me to fail and return home. I think I’m going to be sick.

“But it’s over now, and I need some help getting back on my feet. I see that…that you’ve made some good connections,” her eyes flick back towards the boys. A stream of laughter bubbles from my mouth.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I sigh and turn away. My eyes met Lucas’, and I nod, ready to leave. My mom rushes up behind me, grabbing my scarred arm. I jolt, shaking her off violently. Raising my arm to my chest protectively, I don’t hear Kyan move before he’s at my back, slipping his hand into my sleeve. He caresses my scar softly, a battle of emotions clogging in my throat. I don’t shrug him off, preferring to use him as a barricade between my mom and I. The other two step into my sides.

“No, I wasn’t, it’s not money that I want,” she insists, holding her hands up and keeping her voice low. “But I'm...I wondered when you last had your clozapine topped up. I'm struggling tostay focused. I just need a little something to help me through the day, you know? If you can spare your poor mom a handful.”

I reel back as if I’ve been slapped. All of these weeks I’ve been struggling with the bare minimum, forced to struggle against my instincts to beg for a pill when life gets too hard. And now I understand, clearer than ever, why Lucas has refrained. I’m staring at the very real possibility of who I’d have become if it wasn’t for him. My blood boils as I think, I'll give her a handful, alright. Lifting my free hand, Lucas catches my wrist, stilling my open palm.

“Sophia doesn't rely on that shit anymore,” he states firmly. A cruel smile grows on my mom’s face.

“I don't think so somehow. Sophia has an addictive personality. It's genetic.” She turns her cold eyes to me, not a trace of fake tears left. “I know you have some, or at least something stronger. You don't think I see what you're doing, hanging out with these rich people? You've got connections now. It's only fair you help me out too. It's the least you could do for the inconvenience you've caused me these past few years.”

My lungs constrict, and I sputter. “The inconvenience I've caused?!” my voice is low, my breathing harsh. Maybe a few years ago, I'd have lacked the self-esteem to argue, but not now. I need to cut these ties, or I'll always be dragged down by her. Standing straight, my shoulders push Kyan a step back. I can’t let myself be crowded anymore. I need to stand up for myself.

"You heard Lucas. I don't take pills anymore. And for the record, you weren't wanted here. I don’t want to see you ever again. Whatever happens, whether you're dying in a ditch or somehow find sobriety, I don't want to know. I'm not your daughter anymore. Jude made sure of that."

The words hang heavy in the air as I turn away from my mother, seeking solace in the men surrounding me. Their hands seek me out as if they can’t hold themselves back any longer. Aswe walk away, leaving my mom stuttering and cursing behind, each step feels lighter. No longer will she bring me down or taint my mind with ideas that I can’t be better. That I can’t break free from the shadows of the past and be who I want to be.

We walk under the silvery glow of the moon, the darkness around us punctuated by the occasional streetlight. As the familiar outline of Thorn Manor comes into view, I can't help but marvel at how far I've come. Once a prisoner of my own mind, trapped in the throes of addiction and self-doubt, I've found solace and strength in the most unlikely of places–with three boys who see beyond my flaws and scars.

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