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Seven

A year. I had been there for a year.

I had seen people come and go. Emma had left a few months after I showed up. Marcus and Connor left with in the same month. Zoe was still there. Daniel left too, but a month or two before me.

Scott took me on so many dates, every single one just as beautiful as the last, each having their own little flavor.

He took me to many different places for dinner, but never forced my into situations that made me uncomfortable. He was always so aware of how I was taking something, and the butterflies in my stomach only intensified after each date.

We didn't use labels. We were just Scott and Mitch to each other.

He took me out to movies, we stayed and the ward, and had a Disney marathon with everyone, we played games, baked with others. Never once, did he let me out of his sight, but he also never went anywhere where it would be he and I, alone.

And yet, my most memorable dates had the one and only times he had decided to take me out to a place where there was no one else.

~°~

"Come on. Just a little further." Scott urged me through the trees. Where was he taking me?

At this point, my brain began to run rampant with thoughts. Was he bringing me out here to rape me then leave my dead body out here? Was he going to hurt me?

Now matter how hard I tried to banish the thoughts, it wasn't until we had passed into a small, wildflower blanketed field with a small picnic set up. There was wine there, a small bottle. Not enough to leave them fully inebriated.

It was already way past the time I had to be back to the Ward, yet Scot wasn't worried. He simply invited me to sit down, then sat down beside me.

Hours, all the food, and a whole bottle of wine later, we were laying down, Scott's hands behind his head and his stomach my pillow. I had my hands folded nearly on my stomach as I stated up at the stars. So man of them, and every once and a while, we would see a small shooting star.

As I sat there, thinking over life, there was this small reoccurring pattern I noticed. People, so many people, fell back on many outlets, especially drugs and love, even when there was no love or hospice there.

I voiced this thought to Scott.

"I wonder so many times to myself why people fall to addiction, or call in love." I murmured, still looking up at the massive expanse of stars that lit up the night sky, the moon hidden behind the trees. There many things that I kind of expected him to say in response, but what I got was not that.

"Vincent Can Gogh used to eat yellow paint-" Scott replied, as though simply talking about the whether.

"Ew!" I interrupted, shifting to look up at him with wide eyes, grossed out, but a little intrigued about how this had to do with my comment.

"Just listen?" He pleaded, and I turned to look back up at the stars, inviting him to continue. "He used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn't possibly have any direct correlation in one's happiness, but I never saw that." He paused for a small moment, and I heard some shuffling before one of his hands began to run through my hair. "If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possibly work, like painting the insides of your internal organs yellow, then you are going to do it. It's really no different than falling in love Or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken, or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always the chance that it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint." There sounded like there was more to that comment, but he didn't add it.

I sighed, think about his words, and smiled to myself. "That was beautiful." I murmured.

The rest of the night, we had short little conversations, or just silently commented on the stars.

At the end of the night, it was past midnight and we slowly made our way back to the car, backing everything up and carrying it to the car.

When he dropped me off, he quickly kissed me on the cheek before disappearing, giving me no chance to react to it before he was gone.

I was still smiling about it the next day when Kirstie came to me.

"Mitch, I have a question for you." She said, looking lime she was about to burst from excitement, after we had squealed about the events of last night together.

"Continue." I invited, rather eager to see just where she was going with this. It couldn't be her wedding. No. I already knew about that.

"So, you know how Jeremy and I are getting married? Well, I want you to be my bride's maid. The Maid of Honor to clarify." She paused and held her breath, as though waiting for my reaction.

I was speechless. She wanted me to be her Maid of Honor? Didn't she had other, more qualified friends for this? But never said that out loud. I simply pulled her into  a hug as I let tears fall. I was so surprised and so happy that she would even consider me.

"You don't have to wear a dress-" I cut her off.

"Of course I am going to wear a dress." I said simply with a large smile as I finally pulled back, wiping my eyes. This was the best news anyone had given me. She had chosen me over everyone else she knew.

The wedding was still three or so months away, and she told me that All I had to do was show up to the wedding. But I was helping with the wedding in any way I possibly could!

I smiled at myself in the mirror that night, staring at my reflection, then climbed into bed and shut off the light.

~*~

This part will be fixed up more later, but I just thought I would inform you of a few things.

One! This book will be shorter than it Predecessors. That's just how it's gonna be.

Two, Parents have locked my phone down, meaning I get a grand total of 2 hours on my apps a day, so updates are not as frequent. Sorry.

Three, School has also started for me, so lots of homework. I have Fiddler on the Roof rehearsals, and many CE and AP classes, so my load is full.

That should be about it.

Oh, and stay sexy

-Scomiche❤💛💚💙💜