What the fuck am I even doing inTexas?
I’m fooling myself if I think that I could live here long-term. Sure, I’m making good money from the mural—but it’s not exactly full-time work. It pays the grocery bills, but it wouldn’t pay rent. And would I even want to do it full time? I’d have to do several murals amonthjust to get to the level I’d been at Incite. And I’d bet having to financially rely on my passion in that manner would suck the joy right out of it.
Maybe Paragon doesn’t spark the same level of enthusiasm that art currently does for me, but I’d be lying if I told myself that it’s not a good fit on paper. I try to rationalize my terror, try to tell myself that all of my panic surrounding this new job is rooted in the fear of how my old one ended. Just because things were shit at Incite doesn’t mean that Paragon’s bound to be the same. Right?
Right?
I’m fully spiraling now, but I can’t stop myself from riding the wave.
If I could just figure out how to overcome my fear that I’ll fail if I try again, my dread that maybe I’m just not cut out for this industry or for New York—I’d be fine. If I could just drag my perspective back into shape, build a healthier relationship with my work, forge a new relationship with—
A new relationship.
Noah.
I clench my jaw. My thoughts sour.
At the very least, I shouldn’t be making any plans where Noah is concerned.
He’s the antithesis of a plan. He’s everything that’s chaotic and good, hopping from state to state with careless abandon, always seeking adventure and never staying long enough to grow roots. He’s the dictionary definition ofwinging it.He could be plotting out Alchemist’s new location with Dan right now. Maybe he’s sitting at home, mapping out our camping trip just as he starts to wonder which trail he’ll disappear down next.
He makes everything feel so easy—so effortlessly simple. But days like today prove that things are much more complicated than that.
As I sit with my head between my knees, the heat burns away all the delusional daydreams I’ve had during my time here until I’m left with hard, bitter facts.
Stop.
I swallow thickly.
Take a deep breath in for me.
I follow the memory of his voice, scrunching my eyes closed and sucking in a deep breath.
Take it one day at a time, okay?
I press the heels of my hands into my eyes and shake my head. And then, finally—something breaks.
One day at a time.
Okay. I exhale in a rush.
I’m soaked like I’ve run for miles, but I’m not very far from the house at all. My formerly bouncy curls stick limply to my face as I start to walk back to Liam’s. Every time my thoughts creep back toward the decision I’ll have to make in the next few weeks, I focus instead on my breathing. In. Four steps forward. Out. Four steps more. In…
One day at a time.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
“Do you know any campfire songs, bard?” I ask.
The campsite Noah chose is perfect for a first timer like me. It’s only an hour outside of Heller, and it’s private enough that we don’t hear yelling from the truck full of frat boys I saw pulling in after us, but modern enough that Noah’s got an electric hookup for his van and I’ve got showers and restrooms in case I’m not ready to shit in the woods. Not to mention, it’s gorgeous. Situated up in the hills surrounding the river, we’ve got an incredible view of the water below. It’s late afternoon, but I can still spot a few boats lingering on the lake, soaking up the last hours of sunshine.
“DoIknow any campfire songs?” Noah’s tone is teasingly mocking. “What do you take me for, Sadie, an amateur?”
He starts to sing as he unpacks the back of the van. His voice is charmingly off-tune, but he makes up for it with a good helping of enthusiasm and a fantastic memory for every line of an old Decemberists song. I make myself unhelpful, sitting in the bed of the van with an open bottle of mead cradled between my thighs, my legs dangling above the ground and my heels keeping the beat against the bumper.
“I’m surprised you were able to get the weekend off,” I say, watching as he kneels to coax a fire to life on the kindling. Half thereason we tend to play D&D on Sunday mornings is because of Noah’s busy weekend evening work schedule. “I’m sure Dan’s missing you.”
