Page 100 of The Muse
She nods.
I practice the speech in my head.
June, I’m living in the Rawlings’garage, but they don’t know it. I stole Rupert’s car, and that’s why I’m working for him. I’ve been to prison—twice. But I’m afraid of losing you to the truth, which is ironic because you’re the first thing in my life that has ever really felt true.
Just as I open my mouth to see if the words will come out, because waiting another day feels too painful, June says, “The Rawlings adore you.”
“What?” I heard her, but I wasn’t expecting her to say that. And I think “adore” is too strong of a word.
“I think they’ve suffered and felt a lot of hopeless moments since losing their grandson and as result, their son too. It’s easy to feel like you’ll never find your way out of the darkness when something so permanent steals your light. But I see it when they look at you. It’s hope. A glimmer of light. Like reading an inspiring book or watching a movie. Even if it’s not your life, you feel other people’s joy. It radiates, and no one is immune to it. I think they love seeing you discover parts of yourself you never knew existed.”
“What parts are those?” I ask.
She grins, resting her hand on my leg. “Your innocence.”
I grunt. “I’m not innocent.”
“Everyone possesses innocence. Sometimes we see it as inexperience, which can have a negative connotation. But it’s innocence. Vulnerability. Something we all have in common, even if we don’t want to share it. Getting a glimpse of it feels pretty great, especially when you get to be with someone as they experience something for the first time. Like I’ll get to do with you tomorrow night.”
I give her a reluctant smile. “And what do you think the Rawlings have seen me experience for the first time?” I ask, parking along the street in front of her building.
She unfastens her seat belt and opens her door. “Kindness,” she says. “I imagine.”
I grab my door handle and check the road to make sure no one is coming, but I also take a few seconds to digest her words.
When we step into her apartment, Ally yells from the bedroom. “Help!”
June gives me a funny look. Ally sounds more upset than desperate. I hang back a few feet as she heads toward Ally’s bedroom.
“I think I stripped the screw. It won’t budge.”
“What is it?” June asks.
I step closer, craning my head to see what they’re talking about.
“Maybe Flynn can help,” June says, waving me into the room.
“Hey, Flynn,” Ally says, frowning in the middle of the room, on the floor with pieces of wood and various screws in ripped open plastic bags.
“What do we have here?” I ask, lifting the box to see the picture of the IKEA desk.
“It saideasy assembly. But I disagree. Something is wrong with the screws or this stupid little tool or …” She sighs, dropping her head into her hands. “Me. Something is wrong with me. How can I pass the bar exam if I can’t put together a desk?”
“Grab a drink. Chill on the sofa for a few minutes. Whatever,” I say. “I’ve got this.”
Ally lights up. “Seriously?”
I pick up a few of the pieces, inspecting them. “Yeah. Seriously. Shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Oh, I love you!” She jumps to her feet and hugs me.
“Down girl. He’s mine.” June laughs.
Ally releases me and steps back. “Sorry. But I’m just saying, if Juju doesn’t marry you, I will. There’s nothing sexier than a guy with skills and tools in his car.”
“Oh my gosh, stop!” June laughs, pulling Ally out of the room.
I shake my head and chuckle.
