The Story of Us by D. Nichole King

Author:D. Nichole King [King, D. Nichole]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781542773522
Amazon: B01N4TQIUU
Goodreads: 32736814
Publisher: d. Nichole King
Published: 2017-02-09T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Chicago, IL

23 months ago

We have two days left before Jake and Maverick move Finley and me into our new dorm room at J. Vernon. I dread leaving him again, but he promised we’d see each other every week.

“Have you added to your portfolio?” he asks. It’s midday, and we’re lying on his bed. His fingers trace lazy circles over my bare back.

“Yeah, a few. Most were garbage though.”

“I want to see them.”

“The garbage ones?”

“The portfolio ones, but I’d love to see the garbage ones too.”

I roll away from him and off the bed, picking up my shirt to cover myself as I cross the room. I have to pass a window and don’t want to flash the neighbor. “The garbage ones are where they belong: in the garbage.” I unzip the largest suitcase and get my binder. Then I drop the shirt back on the floor and snuggle up beside him. “They’re in here.”

Maverick opens it and stares at the first painting. It’s a field of wildflowers in every color. Lilac, daisy, fuchsia, candy red, and marigold, all among an array of greens. Off to the side is a worn-down cabin.

He says nothing as he turns the page. The next one’s simple, an empty rocking chair on the front porch of a farmhouse. The idea came when Mom and I drove up to a mountain town for a flea market day. The last painting is of a campfire in the middle of the woods. Contrasting shades of reds and oranges and yellows highlight the focal point and cast haunting glows onto nearby trees. It’s become one of my favorites.

“What do you think?”

Maverick closes the book and faces me. “I think you are the most talented woman I’ve ever met.”

“I have nothing to compare that to,” I tease. “For all I know, I could be the only woman you’ve ever met.”

“I’ve met thousands.”

“Thousands? Wow, you’re popular.”

“Or just decent at networking.” He kisses my forehead. “I’m glad you’re pursuing this. Talent like yours needs to be harnessed and then set free.”

“I’m minoring in computer science,” I say. “I don’t feel safe without a backup plan.”

“As long as it’s a backup, Jellysnack. Art should be your priority.”

I take my portfolio from him and get up again. “You’re adamant about that.” I tuck the portfolio back into my suitcase.

“Because I believe in you, and I want you to believe in you.”

I walk toward his dresser where my bra landed earlier. After I retrieve it, I scan the photos he has displayed. One is of us in Cancun, another is of him and his brother playing football, and the third is of someone I don’t know.

“Who’s this?” I ask, picking it up.

Maverick pulls his pants on and walks to the closet on other side of the room. “Zach, my brother.”

“Your brother?” I turn to him. “I thought your brother’s name was Gavin?”

“Gavin’s my younger brother.”

“You have two?” I ask, confused because he’s only ever talked about the one.

Maverick grabs a shirt and puts it on before he comes to me.

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