The Book at the Top of the Closet

Chapter Thirty-Eight

When my parents arrive, I can tell they're wondering whether Veronica is a friend or something different, something they aren't sure yet how to acknowledge. I introduce her as a friend from school, and they visibly relax.

It feels like a lifetime since I told them I might like girls, and I wonder what they would think of all that has transpired in my life since then. Magic and drama and mystery, and so much wonder, and so much fear. And I will never explain it to them. I've always wanted to feel like my parents know me, really know me, but I think these new parts of my life are not theirs to share in. There was a time when that would've made me sad, but now, my parents are not the only ones who know who I really am. Veronica and Liam both know me better than my family likely ever will, and I think if I ever met Aria, she would understand me the way I've tried to understand her.

So with little fanfare, I carry boxes out to the truck, and Veronica helps, which I can tell boosts my parents' opinions of her. If she and I ever do get together, I get the feeling that they'll end up really liking her once they get over the fact that she's a girl. In the few minutes we're all together in the parking lot, she's so charming I could swear she's trying to impress them, just like she would if we were dating.

"You should try and come visit me over the break," she says.

"I'll have to get a lot better at driving if I'm going to go all the way to Pflugerville," I say, but I know I'd go to the moon if it meant Veronica would smile at me like that.

She hugs me goodbye, and I have that feeling again, that desperate feeling like I'm missing my moment to tell her how I feel. But this isn't my moment. Not here, in a parking lot, two feet away from my parents. Declarations of love can wait, for now. I give her one final squeeze and jump in the passenger seat, waving out the back window as she fades from sight.

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Dear Diary,

My bedroom is so full of canvases, there's barely room to walk. For the last week while Sunshine got ready for graduation and stressed over finals, I painted. I painted sigils and cats and Freya bathed in light. I painted Sunshine so many times she said it was getting unsettling, coming into my room and seeing a half dozen of herself staring back at her.

Never in my entire life have I felt so full of art. I have so many things I need to get onto the canvas, more images and feelings than I can express in any other way. There are a lot of protection sigils, still. I feel safe now, and even more so now that I don't plan on coming back to this town after I leave for the summer. It's almost habit, now, though. The sigils are part of my ritual, like reading runes in the morning and greeting Freya with a smile when I feel the sun on my face.

There are other kinds, now, though. I've painted sigils for energy and inspiration, sigils for focus, sigils for finding beauty everywhere. I covered notebook covers with sigils for good luck and left little folded pieces of paper with some of the best ones tucked into Sunshine's backpack. She doesn't seem to mind finding them from time to time.

The paintings are a bright rainbow spread out across the room, faces and shapes glinting when the sun dances across them. And right this minute, I could almost stay here. My own room, my own space, full of things I've worked on and poured my heart into. But in less than a week I'll leave. Soon I'll have a new space, one I'll share with Sunshine. And I'll fill it with light and color, and we'll live happily ever after, because the world is our hands holding each other just tight enough.

-Aria

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