Dedicating Every Day to You

Chapter Twenty-Five

(A/N: Trigger warning for this chapter, mentions of abuse. I'll put a bold asterisk where it starts and one where it ends)

"Hey, Kat, come on in!" Theo pulls the door open and grins at me. Her thick braid swings against her shoulder, and her smile is bright.

"Thanks." I adjust my duffel in my hand and walk inside.

Theo's house is fairly small, but it's pretty on the inside, all yellow walls with white furniture and bright colors everywhere. Her dad, Aaron, is sitting on the couch and reading a book. He smiles at us and takes off his reading glasses.

"Hey, Daddy-o." Theodosia flops down next to him.

"Hello, Theo- and this must be Kathryn." Aaron stands up and extends a hand to shake mine. "I'm Aaron Burr."

"It's nice to meet you, Mr. Burr." I smile and shake his hand, feeling a little silly. Shaking hands always seems awkward to me.

"Theo, you need to introduce me to your friend!" A fairly short woman descends the stairs, and my jaw drops. She's breathtakingly beautiful, with reddish-brown hair and hazel eyes. I've seen pretty people before, but this woman surpasses them all. She extends a pale hand for me to shake.

"I'm Kathryn," I say, feeling suddenly shy. "Kathryn Laurens-Hamilton. It's nice to meet you."

"It's very nice to meet you too, Kathryn. I'm Mrs. Burr, but you can call me Zia." Mrs. Burr- Zia, I guess- has a gentle voice, the sort that puts me at ease right away. For a fleeting moment, I wonder if this is what it's like to have a mom. The thought makes me feel a little guilty, and I bite my lip and look at the floor.

"Come on, Kat, you can bring your stuff upstairs to my room." Theo stands up and grabs a strap of my bag.

I walk beside her, smiling. "Your parents are really nice."

Theo's face lights up. "I like them." We reach a door at the top of the stairs, and she stops and turns to face me. "Now, my room is pretty small, and it doesn't have much in it. It isn't a lot, but it's mine." Her voice is almost defensive, and her hands are on her hips.

She wasn't lying, the room is small. The walls are a deep pink, nearly red, with hand-painted canvasses and posters everywhere. There's space for a twin bed, an easel and desk, and not much else. Looking closer, however, I can see details that remind me that this room is Theo's- tiny fairy lights wrapped around the bedframe, a little jar of wilted flowers on the desk.

"It's really nice," I say truthfully. "The paintings are beautiful."

Theo runs a hand over one of the paintings carefully. It's done in black and grey, and it's a bit of a melancholy picture. In the painting, a girl stands alone in front of a window, seen from the side. She has her forehead against the windowpane, and a tear is captured making its way down her cheek. Every flicker of light and drop of rain is highlighted in magnificent detail.

"That's beautiful," I say softly. "Who's the girl in the picture?"

"Me," Theo says shortly. There's a trace of sadness in her voice, but she shakes it off just as quickly. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, what do you feel like doing?" I tug down the hem of my grey sweater. It's a little chilly in the Burr house.

Theo pulls down the sleeves of her own sweater. "I just got the most amazing new set of watercolors, so we could mess with those, if you wanted."

"Okay!"

Within a few minutes, we've got a full-blown art studio going on in the middle of the room. Two sketchpads on two easels, a giant tray of watercolor paints and about a million brushes on her desk between us. I'm doing a simple painting of a turtle, to give to John for his birthday, but Theo is making a complicated rainbow out of words and flowers.