Tru wanted to shout at his father, to rail at him for daring to even have an opinion about Sloane. The old Tru, the Tru he had been before he faced the reality of his drinking problem and had his epiphany about the depth of his feelings for Sloane, would have used this as an excuse to start a war with his father. That Tru would have said something snide and sarcastic, something certain to drive his father right over the edge.
His mother’s disrespect had pushed the man halfway there already. It would be an easy feat.
But now Tru realized that he had a choice. What was that saying again? You can’t choose what happens to you, but you can choose how you react to it. Something like that.
Well, Tru was done reacting in a way that played right into his father’s hands. The drinking, the rebellion, the fighting back when his father pushed him. That was all over. He wouldn’t rise to the bait anymore.
He wouldn’t let his father dictate his emotions.
Tru pushed slowly to his feet and sensed his father tense up at the anticipated battle.
David Dorsey would not be getting a fight for Christmas this year. Not from Tru, anyway.
“You have no idea, do you?” Tru said evenly. “Their worlds have been flipped upside-down. They have every right to be upset.”
Tru puffed up with satisfaction at the look of shock, confusion, and even a little understanding that passed over his father’s face. For once, he had taken the high road. It felt good to know that he could control the situation without lighting the match.
“And you two,” Tru said, looking first at Sloane’s dad and then her mom, “should be ashamed. Playing your games at Sloane’s expense. Letting her think everything was all her fault.”
Sloane’s mom actually looked wounded by his words, but her father only looked confused.
The man clearly didn’t get it.
Tru shook his head. “I hope y’all enjoy this dinner she labored all day to make perfect for everyone.”
He picked up his napkin off the floor and tossed it onto his plate of untouched food. He felt bad he was walking away from the meal they had spent all day preparing, but he had to go find her and make sure she was okay.
“You so-called grown-ups need to work this out,” he admonished.
“Where are you going?” his mother asked.
“To save Sloane’s Christmas.”
Chapter Nineteen
The night sky is so big I think it could just swallow me whole. Part of me wants it to. I want it to swallow up the whole night. But there have been good things about tonight. Like setting things straight with Tru and my heart-to-heart with Dylan. And I imagine that my dinner was amazing—if only I’d stuck around to eat any of it.
I hear a gentle rumble behind me and know it’s the window to Tru’s bedroom sliding open.
“You are a hard girl to find,” he says as he climbs out onto the roof.
I close my eyes. “I thought it was time for a change.”
Plus, after Dylan passed out on my bed, I didn’t want to risk waking him. I’d turned off my lights, snuck downstairs, and made way over to the Dorseys’ and up onto the roof outside Tru’s bedroom.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Tru says, “I love finding a beautiful girl sitting on my roof as much as the next guy.”
I snort-laugh.
“But a little heads-up next time before I go climbing on every roof in the neighborhood.”
“I promise,” I tell him. “Next time my entire life implodes in the middle of Christmas Eve dinner, I’ll tell you where to look.”
“Deal,” he says as he settles down next to me. “I brought you a cupcake.”
He holds out one of the little cakes we made earlier. The frosting is perfect white, with a delicate red flower drawn in the center—it was supposed to look like a poinsettia, but it looks more like a daisy. Funny how much my idea of perfection has changed since I drew that flower.
“Only one?” I ask as I take it.
“It was an impulse grab.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t thinking long-term as I stormed out in solidarity.”
“Here.” I pull off the paper and break the cupcake in two. “We can share.”
He takes the cake with a huge grin on his face. “This is why I love you.”
I choke on a bite of blood-red cake. What did he just say?
He lifts the cupcake up to his nose, like he’s studying it intently. “Did I not mention that earlier?”
I swallow my bite and shake my head.
He looks at me over the cupcake. “Well, I do.” His expression softens. “And not just because you share your baked goods with me.”
My heart swells so big inside my chest that I think it might burst out, Graphic Grrl style, in an explosion of rainbows and art supplies.
After everything we’ve been through in the last few months—between his parents and mine, my secrets and his, and so many things that could have torn us permanently apart—it’s kind of a Christmas miracle that we’re here, together, stronger than ever. Tru has shown that he’ll do anything for me, and I would do the same for him.
We’ve faced everything life has thrown at us, and it has only blended us closer together. I can’t imagine us ever being apart again.
I won’t let us.
“I love you, too,” I whisper.
I wrap my free hand around his wrist and pull his cupcake out of the way so I can kiss him. I close my eyes and lean into him. The molten pressure of his lips is almost enough to make me forget the last few hours.
Almost.
With a sigh, I pull back.
“How’s Dylan?” Tru asks.
“He’s…” I rock my head side to side, consider. “He’s okay. He’ll be okay.”
“You’re a good sister.”
“He’s a better brother.”
I stuff the last of my cupcake in my mouth.
“If that whole animation thing doesn’t work out,” Tru says, “you can always make it as a pastry chef. That was one amazing cupcake.”
“Thanks.” I dust my hands off on my dress, not even caring if I smear cake crumbs all over it. “And thanks for being there today. For all of it.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal, when we both know it is. “Like you said, we’re in this together.”
“Ah, so you were listening.”
“Only when it counts.”
I let my head rest on his shoulder. “Let’s never go on a break again, okay?”
“Deal,” he says.
For a day that’s been so full of ups and downs, it’s ending on a pretty good note. We sit in silence for a long time, staring at the stars and just sitting together. It’s almost as if I can see the stars make their journey across the sky.
At some point, Tru slips his hand over mine. I turn mine over so our palms are pressed together.
I could sit like this forever.
…
At some point, Tru climbed back into his bedroom to grab a blanket. The night was getting cold, but Sloane didn’t show any signs of wanting to leave the roof.
Tru was just as content to stay there.
“Dylan thinks I should go public with Graphic Grrl,” Sloane said as he wrapped the blanket around their shoulders.
He’d been surprised when she told him her brother was her blackmailer. But she seemed to have forgiven the kid, so Tru wouldn’t hold that against him.
He pulled her close against his side. “Yeah?”
“He thinks it’s good enough to go mainstream. That even non-artists would like it.”
“Dylan’s right.” He squeezed her shoulders. “So are you going to?”
It would mean a big step for her. She’d worked hard to keep her identity secret for a long time. Coming out as the creator would mean big changes.
Then again, her life was about to be one big change, so maybe she was thinking of getting it all over with at once.
She snuggled into him. “I’m considering it.”
“Just remember,” he said. “I loved yo
u before you were famous.”
She laughed against his shoulder.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Tru had no idea. With his arm around her shoulder and her cheek against his chest, it was like time stood still. If he could freeze a single moment for the rest of his life, this would be the one.
He pulled out his phone to check.
“After midnight.”
She sighed into him. “It’s Christmas.”
She whimpered a little as he shifted away from her. He reached up behind his neck to grab the chain that hung there and pulled it up over his head.
He wrapped his fist around the metal circle that hung from the end of it and held it out to her. “Merry Christmas.”
She looked confused as she held out her hand. He opened his fist and let the contents fall into her palm.
“When did you get this?” she asked.
He shrugged. “A while ago.”
He could sense her nervous anticipation as she realized it was a ring.
“Why, Tru Dorsey,” she teased, “are you trying to make an honest woman out of me?”
“Don’t be silly.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know a lost cause when I see one.”
She examined the ring. It was a wide silver band with a city skyline etched into the surface. Using the flashlight on his phone, he illuminated it so she could inspect it more closely.
“Is that the Statue of Liberty?” she asked.
He nodded. “The one and only.”
She squinted at a shape on the opposite side. “What’s that?”
“The Texas State Capital.”
“It’s a melding of two skylines?”
Tru nodded. “The artist does custom work, with whichever cities you choose.”
“So New York and Austin?” she guessed.
He smiled. “Like us.”
He took the ring from her and slid it onto the middle finger of her right hand. “A perfect fit.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Thank you. I love it.”
And he loved her. It was a perfect exchange.
“I have another present,” he told her.
He opened his photos app on his phone and cued up the video of location footage he had made for Senior Seminar. Sloane leaned in close as the video started to play.
There was no music as a clip of her walking across campus began. It followed her over the grass, past the giant metal sculpture on the quad, until she turned to ask him something and noticed she was being filmed.
She didn’t look away from the screen as the video cut to another location. The Driskill. It started with a still of the facade, and then she walked into the frame. The camera followed her up the steps and into the hotel.
It cut to another location. And then another and another. Clip after clip showed the shooting locations Willa suggested featuring a cameo by Sloane.
Tru didn’t have to watch the video—he knew the beats by heart. Instead, he watched Sloane. Watched as her eyes began to glisten with tears.
The film ended, and Sloane stared blankly at the black screen.
Tru had never felt so exposed in his life. To the casual observer, it might have just looked like a bunch of shots with the same actress. But he felt every beat of the film in his heart. Every moment, every glimpse.
He was stripping naked and showing Sloane exactly how he felt.
He could do that better in pictures than he ever could in words.
“That was beautiful,” she finally said. “It took my breath away. You are insanely talented.”
He let out a huge sigh of relief. She liked it. She really liked it.
Tru usually tried to project an image of total confidence when it came to his art. Inside, though, his insecurities and self-doubt ran rampant. He saw all the flaws others either didn’t or pretended not to see.
But what Sloane’s reaction taught him was maybe the flaws didn’t matter as much as he thought. Maybe the imperfections were part of what made it perfect.
“You’re pretty gifted yourself, Graphic Grrl.”
“Oh!” She jerked back. “I have something for you, too.”
“Is it better than having your arms around me?” he asked. “Because I’m pretty sure I’d rather have more of that.”
She waved him off as she pulled her phone out of a hidden pocket in her dress. He couldn’t look away from her face as she searched through her phone. The lighting was perfect.
He was tempted to pull up his camera app and start filming her. Would have, if he didn’t know that she would be annoyed. Besides, it looked like she had found what she was looking for.
“Here,” she said, handing him the phone.
He set his phone down so he could take a closer look at her screen.
It was a close up of a Graphic Grrl strip. It picked up where the last strip left off, with Graphic Grrl tied up and hanging over a vat of molten lead and her nemesis Engineering Boy laughing it up in the background.
Graphic Grrl was in a tough spot, but Tru had been reading the strip for years. He knew she always managed to find a way.
He slid over to the next frame. In it, both Graphic Grrl and Engineering Boy were looking toward the open door of the mechanical pencil factory, where a figure was silhouetted against the light from outside.
In the next frame, the figure stepped into the factory. It was a man dressed in a superhero costume that looked like a suit. A skinny-legged black suit. Underneath the jacket, he wore a white shirt with an emblem in the middle.
The emblem looked like a film slate.
“Is that—”
Sloane nodded. “Meet the newest member of Graphic Grrl’s team. Film Maestro.”
He couldn’t believe it. She had actually done it. He’d been teasing when he asked her to write him into the comic. He never thought she would actually take it seriously.
He knew how much the strip meant to her. Which meant he knew how much it meant that she had included him.
Her art said it better than any words or gifts ever could.
“Merry Christmas,” he said against her mouth.
He felt her smile.
“Merry Christmas.”
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About the Author
Tera Lynn Childs is the RITA® award-winning and bestselling young adult author of the mythology-based Oh. My. Gods. series, the Forgive My Fins mermaid romances, the kick-butt monster-hunting Sweet Venom trilogy, and the Darkly Fae series. She also writes the City Chicks books and is co-writing the Hero Agenda and Creative HeArts series. Her works have appeared in over a dozen languages and on multiple state library reading lists. She lives in Las Vegas, where she spends her time writing wherever she can find a comfy chair and a steady stream of caffeinated beverages. Find her online at teralynnchilds.com.
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