For the Love of Vee Pt. 01

FOR THE LOVE OF VEE

PART ONE

DB#23-1

Edited by kenjisato.

Welcome back to Middletown.

This is a long story even for my standards, so I decided to split it into three parts. It's already finished. I'd never disrespect my readers by engaging them in an unfinished story. I'll be submitting the next parts as soon as Literotica approves the previous one.

All my readers are familiar with Yaron Beilinson, the therapist from "Nerdly yours", "L. O. V. E. therapy", and "Never too late." However, you don't need to read those stories to enjoy this one.

They shared a unique bond, no else understood.

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PROLOGUE: MIRANDA WOODWARD

I placed a digital recorder in front of Yaron and patiently waited until he was ready to talk. He wet his lips and started, "I met Vee when I was ten years old..."

CHAPTER 1: YARON

"Yaron, you don't know what you have until you lose it," Mr. Stein said to me placing a hand on my shoulder. "Get the most out of life, boy. Do it before the end comes and it's too late to do something about it."

Mr. Stein tried to smile at me, but his eyes were full of tears. He patted my shoulder, and I left.

Those words were spoken to me by Abraham Stein, Edith Stein's husband. He had just lost his wife, and my parents and I were attending her funeral. Mrs. Stein was thirty-four years old and had died of a sudden respiratory infection.

An unexpected death that had left a broken family and two children motherless. Pete, the oldest, went to school with me and could run a mile faster than anyone else. He was very popular. Until that day, when I saw him crying nonstop with his eyes fixed on a pine box, I had envied him.

I was ten years old, and that was my first funeral. I didn't know Mrs. Stein, but Mr. Stein was an electrician and worked for my father, so I had been forced to put on my Sunday suit and see for the first time, a dead woman lying in an open coffin.

I will never forget Mrs. Stein's paleness, poorly hidden under a layer of makeup so excessive that all it did was accentuate even more that she was no longer alive.

When I left, my parents stayed inside, comforting Mr. Stein. I went down the stone steps to wait for them, under the shade of the larches. It was summer, and the sun was beating down hard.

As I pondered the sad man's advice, I saw her. She was kicking the trunk of a tree. She was wearing a colorful patchwork skirt and a red jacket. She had a top hat with a yellow feather that made her stand out like a ray of sunshine in the midst of the mourning that surrounded us. She immediately reminded me of a circus character.

I walked over and looked at her carefully. She was small and didn't look like a ten-year-old. But I knew she was because she went to my school. I had seen her around but never talked to her because we moved in different circles. I was a straight-A-plus student. She wasn't. Kids used to make fun of her because of her clothes or her weird ways. She never reacted, or even acknowledged them, and mainly stayed on her own.

Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing next to her and speaking to her for the first time. "What are you dressed up as?"

She turned, looked at her skirt in bewilderment, and shook her head, a little offended. "I'm not dressed up, silly. I want to be a fashion designer. Someday, I'll leave this city behind and I'll be famous."

I didn't think she'd get very far, but I kept my mouth shut.

Only someone who was as crazy as she looked like would pay for clothes like that.

I sat down on the ground and watched her kick the thick root of the larch tree until she tore off a branch that was growing wild at its base.

"What are you doing?"

"I need this. I'm going to make myself a cane."

She put the branch on the ground and pretended that it was a cane.

"Are you lame?"

She laughed and started walking with an exaggerated limp.

"No, silly. I don't need to be lame to carry an elegant cane. That's what fashion is all about."

I didn't get what she said, but I couldn't stop looking at her, either. That was what happened when you saw a star. She was a skinny, ungraceful girl. Her clothes hung on her shapeless body as if she were a hanger covered with old scraps. Her eyes were very black, as was her hair, which was badly cut and reached almost to her waist. Her gaze, a little slanted, made me think of almonds. Next to my dirty-blond hair and my blue eyes, her features intensified.

She looked like a fantasy character that had come out of a children's book. She stood in front of me, and when she smiled, I saw that she was missing a couple of teeth.

"Who are you?"

She pointed at me with her improvised cane.

"I'm Yaron. Yaron Beilinson."

She held out her hand with exaggerated formality. I noticed that her nails were dirty and that she had a large burn scar on her right hand.

"Evangeline Rose Hart." She shook my hand with a firm grip, and then sat down beside me, studying the freshly torn piece of wood. "But, please call me Vee."

She looked and acted like no kid I had known before. And she fascinated me.

"When is your birthday, Yaron Beilinson?"

"July tenth."

Her eyes widened in amazement, and she squealed in excitement.

"Mine's the seventh. Also July! Isn't that awesome? Isn't that a sign?"

I shrugged. I didn't understand why she was so amazed that we were born on two different days, even though we shared the same month, but the look on her face made me want to find out.

"How did you do that?" I asked, still staring at the scar that glowed red between her thumb and forefinger.

"It was a bear. It came into the house, and I fought it with a broom."

I laughed and shook my head in disbelief. Everyone knew it was impossible to survive a bear attack with a broom. Besides, there were no bears in the city.

"I can make a great cane out of that," I pointed at the branch. I had never made a cane before, but I thought it wouldn't be too hard. Besides, it would give me a reason to see her again. My parents had given me a pocket knife for my birthday and I had carved my name on a tree.

"Take it. You know, in case the bear comes back," Vee said, and smiled.

That day, thanks to the advice of an unknown man who had just buried the love of his life, I met mine.

CHAPTER 2: YARON

"I'm not going to jump."

"You're a chicken, Yaron."

"And you're crazy."

"I know, silly. Now jump."

I looked down. We probably weren't really high, but it looked like a mile high to me.

Vee stuck out her tongue and ran toward the edge of the rocks. I thought she was just trying to scare me, but instead of stopping at the edge, she jumped down. My heart started pounding so hard in my chest that I could feel it in my ears.

I ran as fast as I could to the edge and looked down. I couldn't spot Vee.

My parents were going to kill me. It had been hard enough for them to accept my friendship with her, and to top it off with the responsibility of her death.

We were at Glacier National Park. It was summer, and my parents usually took my sisters and me to camp for a few days. They had let me invite a friend, like every year, and I had surprised them all by choosing Vee over my best friend Daniel Cohen. The choice was easy, Daniel was a Jewish boy scout; he had plenty of opportunities to go camping. Vee didn't.

I climbed down the first rocks as best I could, feeling my stomach turn inside out and my body shaking. I hated heights. That was why we were there, of course. We had walked out from the hiking route. It was forbidden, but for Vee, the rules never made sense. We had come across a small waterfall that fell into the lake. The water was crystal blue from the melting of the glaciers. I imagined it would be ice cold. It seemed impossible that a thin girl like Vee could survive.

I climbed down another rock, but realized I couldn't go any further. My only option was to jump into the water like she had done, or go back and take the path to the bottom, but that would take at least an hour.

I had no other choice. I closed my eyes and jumped down. The water was ice cold and took my breath away. As soon as I emerged to the surface, I quickly started looking around.

"Boo!"

I turned around and saw Vee smiling at me.

"What the hell were you thinking? You could have died! I could have died!"

Vee laughed and swam toward some rocks. She climbed them and sat down. I sat at her side.

"You did it!"

"That was not cool. You scared me to death."

Her laughter made me even angrier.

"Aww, you came to my rescue. My hero!" And she hugged me.

Her body warmed mine. We both had goosebumps. The fear I had felt minutes before made me think about what would happen if something had happened to her. I imagined her body lying in a coffin, like Mrs. Stein.

I looked at her hand. Her scar was shining. I reached out and touched it. The skin was softer over the old wound.

"How did you get it, Vee?"

She smiled and looked ahead.

"I got bitten by a snake. My hand swelled so much that this piece of skin burst. The venom was such a deep purple... I have never seen anything like it."

I shook my head. I knew it wasn't true. It never was when it came to her scar, but I loved hearing Vee make up stories about how she was always a brave, reckless girl who could overcome anything. She truly was. She was the bravest person I had ever met. And she was crazy, too.

When we returned to our camp, my parents didn't seem very happy when they saw our wet clothes.

"Where have you been? I came here to rest, for God's sake, Yaron! Your mother was worried sick about you!" my father yelled at me. But he was looking at Vee.

"You're going to give me a heart attack, Yaron. Mark my words," my mother added, placing a hand on her chest.

I rolled my eyes. You know how Jewish mothers are.

Vee got an apple from a basket of fruit, gave it a bite, and smiled at my mother with that mischief that overflowed in her.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Beilinson. I jumped into the lake from a waterfall, and Yaron had to find all my bones and put them back together one by one, until I was back on my feet."

She moved her arms as if they were made of jelly, and my sisters' laughter broke the silence. "See? There are still some pieces loose."

My mother was shaking her head, but I heard my father chuckle. He was smiling at Vee.

I looked at my friend, who smiled at me knowingly, and I smiled back.

My parents never understood my friendship with Vee. They saw in her, a girl who wore old, weird, colorful clothes that never fit. A girl who hadn't had her hair cut in forever, and whose future was uncertain because of her family situation.

Vee's father, Luke, had fallen into depression after his wife's death and was barely making ends meet, working odd jobs. He drank too much and could barely take care of himself, let alone take care of Vee.

To my mother, Vee was a bad influence on a somewhat introverted, highly intelligent, responsible, well-mannered boy from a respectable Jewish family who owned a well-known construction company with a reputation to uphold.

However, deep down, no one was immune to Vee's charms.

Not even my father. I knew this when he came back out of the trailer with a beer and a smile on his lips that he rarely let us see. He sat down next to me and opened the can.

Vee was analyzing an anthill she had just found in the grass with my three sisters. Martha hated Vee; it was no secret that she looked at her with an envy that none of us understood at the time. On the other hand, Hannah and Miriam, who were seven and five years old, watched her with palpable admiration.

"What happened to her father?" Dad asked me.

I was a little uncomfortable with the question. It didn't seem right to share with anyone, not even my father, the confidences that Vee had made to me and only to me. But he was my father, and maybe he could help me look at it in a different light.

"His wife died, and he got depressed. It was during childbirth. He is not too keen about taking his meds and drinks, instead. He can't hold on to a job."

Dad clicked his tongue and took a long gulp of his beer. He has always been a compassionate man.

"This poor girl has a lot on her plate but... look at her. She is always smiling. She shines, Yaron. She shines with her own light."

His eyes misted over.

"It's a good thing she got a friend in you. Just don't let her spoil your grades."

"She won't, Dad. I promise."

Vee was still busy watching the ants.

"Someday, I will go far away from here," she told me, when I came close to her.

It was not the first time Vee had told me this, but it was the first time I thought that it was not a fantasy or a childish wish. That day, Vee had made a promise that sounded almost like a challenge come true.

"I will miss you when you're gone," I said, sincerely.

She nodded. Then we all played hide-and-seek and forgot what had happened as only children can do.

CHAPTER 3: YARON

Barnaby was a grouch. He was an old man who lived on a large property full of junk where he had once raised seven children, but they had all flown the nest long ago. His wife had died years ago, and he had lived alone on his land ever since. They he had been a make-up artist in his youth. Most people say, he was a crazy guy who greeted you on his porch with a shotgun.

I didn't think he was crazy. He was just an old, lonely man, who wanted to be left alone with his memories.

Not surprisingly, Vee liked him. And the old grouchy man liked her, too.

Over the years, I learned that special people tend to understand each other, even if they couldn't be more different. Maybe they just respected each other in a way that the rest of us couldn't.

I walked into Barnaby's property, pretending not to be afraid of the possibility of him shooting salt grains at me. His wrinkled face peered at me through the half-open door.

"What are you doing here, kid?"

"Vee sent me. She has a cold and doesn't want you to catch it. She says you're so old you could die from a simple cold."

Barnaby snorted and I relaxed a bit. He swore under his breath, but deep down, he was glad someone cared about him, even if it was an impertinent girl, who treated him as an equal.

He invited me to follow him, and we went into the house. I had accompanied Vee to see him once, but I never went beyond the porch, so when I discovered everything Barnaby was hiding within the walls of his home, I thought then and there that he was truly crazy.

There was junk in every corner. There was no room for another painting, print, poster, or ornament on the walls. On the sides of the hallway, lay boxes filled with all kinds of objects and clothing. I glimpsed one with chess pieces, not from just one game, but hundreds of different shapes and sizes mixed together. Another held newspapers so old that I sensed that if I touched them, they would become dust between my fingers.

Years later, I learned that he suffered from a disorder called Diogenes syndrome, but until that moment, I did not understand what exactly was happening to Barnaby's head. Basically, he was a hoarder.

I followed the old man into the kitchen and we headed to his backyard. There was a huge shed on one side, it looked more like a barn. I didn't know what old Barnaby was looking for, or what he expected to find there, but I followed him anyway.

When he opened the big wooden door, I was speechless.

"Wow!"

He pushed aside a bag of empty soda cans with his cane, and motioned for me to follow him. The light that came in through the upper windows illuminated some of the treasures he kept there. Because that's what it was-- Ali Baba's cave.

I was only a kid, but I knew that some of those relics were worth a lot of money. There was everything, from vintage movie projectors and even a piano covered by a blanket in one corner. Mirrors, mannequins showing famous movies outfits, a puppet show, and the hand-made puppets. Despite the dust and the cobwebs, order reigned there. It was extremely well kept and had nothing to do with what his house conveyed.

I glanced at Barnaby, and he encouraged me to go through a screen that hid the back of the barn with a knowing smile. I still didn't know it, but he was not only giving me his secret, but also his trust. Maybe being Vee's friend was reason enough for him.

I took two steps and was fascinated. It was a museum dedicated to the seventh art.

He crouched in front of a dressing table and turned on its lights. An arc of bulbs illuminated us. On it, rested mannequin heads with wigs; long, silky blondes; brunettes with waves; redheads with bangs. On a lacquered table, a record player began to play, as Barnaby placed its needle with trembling fingers.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high..."

I watched Barnaby close his eyes under the influence of the soft melody and press his rough fingers on the cane.

"I didn't know you liked movies."

"Who doesn't?"

I nodded, feeling like an idiot. Barnaby was right.

He shook his head and sat down on a sideboard. I noticed that behind him rested the suit from a famous space movie. An indecent number of nerds would have killed to have it. There were autographed pictures hanging from the walls from Clark Gable to Fred Astaire. From Judy Garland to Rita Hayworth.

"This is the reason why Vee likes coming here so much," I said.

It was easy to imagine her there, with a feather boa over her shoulders, wearing one of the wigs, dancing to the music, or playing with the piano-- giving free rein to her fantasies. Being happy in a place where everything seemed possible.

Barnaby smiled at the thought of Vee, and nodded.

"Here, she can dream without fear. Here, scars don't matter."

I realized that Barnaby had fallen under Vee's spell just like me.

"She's so insistent that she always ends up getting something out of me. As long as she shuts up, I'd give her everything in this damn place."

I smiled. That was Vee. But the smile faded as I remembered the worthless pieces she always showed up with after visiting the old man; a box full of broken wooden clothespins; an ukulele eaten away by moths, or a bag with crystal beads.

"It's not like you've lost much of your treasures."

Barnaby frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Everything you give her is trash."

Barnaby stared at me for a few seconds. I thought I'd screwed up, that he'd grab his shotgun and shoot me out of his property with a buckshot in the ass, but, as usual, I was wrong.

"Just because you see trash doesn't mean it is trash. That girl has magic eyes. She sees what the rest of us can't see. She mustn't lose that. Don't let that happen," he warned me, wiggling a finger in front of my face.

That description fit Vee perfectly. Magic eyes. I couldn't have defined it better. And I realized that Barnaby and I shared something-- we were both willing to do anything to keep Vee as a friend.

"But... all this..." I pointed at the small universe that surrounded us.

"These things are nothing more than the frozen memories of an old man. The important thing is to be able to create new ones with what we have, even if for others it is just trash."

He scolded me with a stern look, and I lowered my head.

We walked back into the house.

Back in his kitchen, he gave me a box. Inside, there was a rusty and dirty birdcage. I shook my head. More trash. Whatever thing Barnaby and Vee saw in this crap, I didn't get it.

When I got back to Vee's house, she was waiting for me on the porch under a blanket. Her nose was red and swollen. Her eyes were slightly closed.

"How's Barnaby?" she asked, in a sniffly voice.

"Grumpy as usual."

She laughed, then coughed.

"Did he threaten you with the shotgun?"

"Nope, he showed me his barn."

Surprise colored her cheeks.

"Really? That means he trusts you, Yaron."

I shrugged. "If you say so."

I set the box down at her feet, and her eyes lit up. If Vee's eyes were magic, mine were veiled.

She pulled out the cage and studied it excitedly. "Wow. Isn't it amazing?"

All I saw was an old, half-broken cage that was useless. But Vee... what did Vee see in it?

She studied the cage carefully. She grabbed a rag that was drying on the windowsill and began to clean it.

"What do you want it for? Are you thinking of buying a bird?"

She gave me a stern look, and I regretted that stupid question.

"I would never pay for a living being. Much less would I lock it up in a prison. This cage is a jewelry box! Don't you think this is a great idea? Here," she pointed to the top, "I'm going to put a hanger for the earrings. And here," she stroked the base with two fingers, "I want some sconces to come out where I can put the rings. I only have two, but they will help me to give us an idea of ​​how they look. I've thought about creating a line of toiletries with garden objects. In ten years, I'll be known all over California. Every famous actress will have one in her mansion. I have a lot of work ahead of me, Yaron!"

I blinked, trying to find a way to tell her that I didn't think it would work because it was a really stupid idea, but I couldn't. She continued cleaning the cage while she told me her plans and dreamed so loud and hard that she managed to silence all the voices screaming "she is crazy" in my head.

Before heading home, I thought of Barnaby and his museum in the barn.

"Why does he keep all that great stuff there? Why does he let people think he lives in filth? Why does he hide stuff that many people would admire? They would treat him better, Vee. They wouldn't judge him the way they do or look at him with pity."

She looked at me as if she didn't understand what I had said. It didn't happen too often, but sometimes, we found ourselves next to each other, feeling like two strangers, two pieces that belonged to different puzzles. I didn't like it.

"Because it's his dream. And dreams must be protected. Especially when other people won't get them. That's Barnaby's special place, where he can dream without being judged, or getting funny looks from people."

I understood that she wasn't only talking about Barnaby, but about herself, too. I knew what Vee's dream was. She kept telling me about it every day. Her dream was far away from Seattle.

Far from me.

In a way, I envied her. She was sure of what she wanted. Me? I had no idea. My father wanted me to follow in his footsteps and work in the family business. But that idea didn't interest me at all.

What was my dream? Would I ever find it?

CHAPTER 4: YARON

Vee's house was located close to Longfellow Creek Central Forest. It was a huge property that had belonged to her father's family for generations. The lush trees completely blocked the entrance, hiding the old building from anyone who happened to be around.

However, the big house was falling apart, and the front yard was so unkempt that it looked like a jungle when you walked through it.

"Here, Yaron. Help me with this."

Vee placed a roll of tape, a pair of scissors, and a stack of old magazines in my hands. We headed to the back of her house.

The wooden table was littered with markers and clippings.

"What are you doing?"

"A travel diary. For when I leave. I've written down places, cheap motels, tips... don't you think it's great?"

We sat down and she showed me the dress she had been working on for the past few weeks. She had sewn it herself, joining pieces of colored cloth with fishing line. She was holding her hair with a red bow.

The diary was an old notebook that Vee had decorated with lots of glitter and stars of different sizes and colors she had cut out from the magazines.

Inside, the pages were a chaos of colors, words, outfits cut from fashion magazines that Alison, the girl who washed hair at the hair salon, gave Vee when they got too old for her clients. To the common eye, it was nothing more than a children's diary that would end up forgotten in a drawer as soon as its owner grew up a little more.

However, since it was Vee, I knew it was something much more important. It was a dream wrapped in tissue paper. Even more, it was a hope for survival. A chance to be happy to hold on to. On its cover, the title sparkled, covered in blue glitter. I realized that I also had traces of it on my fingers and even on my eyebrows.

"The Extraordinary Life of Vee Noir," she read aloud.

"Noir?" I asked her.

"It means 'night' in French. That's going to be my name when I become famous. The best fashion designers are from France. Hart is too common, Noir sounds much better. No one will know where I came from. I'll be a mystery."

I looked at the crooked letters and frowned. As years flew by, Vee's fantasies and desire to escape grew, and so did the sadness in her eyes. As she grew up, her expectations of achieving her dreams diminished. She was ceasing to believe. Evangeline Hart, the bravest person I knew, was beginning to falter and let fear and doubts materialize in her head.

I couldn't allow it. As Barnaby had ordered me the day he showed me his barn, I couldn't allow it to happen. I needed Vee to continue believing in herself, in her dreams that her life was really going to be extraordinary.

In that moment, I promised myself that I would do everything possible to help her. I was going to miss her when she left, she and Daniel were my best friends, my only true friends, but I would never put any obstacles in the way of her getting everything she wanted.

"It's very nice, Vee."

Her smile hid that halo of hopelessness. "How is Piggy?"

"Hungry."

We laughed. Piggy was the name she had given her piggy bank.

"Here, I have a little more than a dollar for her lunch."

I took the coins out of my pocket and placed them on the table. Vee looked at me with a sweetness that was unusual in her, usually harder-than-a-child's gaze should be.

"Thanks, Yaron. Now, cut out Kate Moss's face."

I looked at the image she gave me and blushed when Vee laughed at me when she caught me with my eyes fixed on the model's breasts. "Why do you want me to cut out her face?"

"Because I'm going to replace hers with mine. When I'm rich, I'm going to buy that dress she's wearing. Look, I paired it with these gloves."

She showed me a picture of some elbow-length gold gloves. They were so elegant that, if she wore them with that sheer minidress, they looked outlandish.

Over the years, I would learn that Vee could dress however she wanted, because the effect was always groundbreaking, but I couldn't help but laugh.

"Why would you wear that?"

She rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at me.

"You don't have a clue about fashion, so I'm not going to waste my time explaining it to you. Besides, you can't see the scar with those gloves on."

My eyes flew to her hand and curiosity escaped from my mouth.

"How did you get it, Vee?"

She dropped the marker in the air and I knew she was already far away.

Somewhere where that wound was the result of a memorable adventure and not what would surely be an accident that was better left unremembered. Maybe I would never find out the truth, but I loved that Vee shared with me the madness that I lacked.

"Before I came here, my father and I lived in Australia. One day, we shipwrecked our boat on a lost island. It was populated by the Mowani, ugly little hairy men like chimps who eat fish and coconuts."

I smiled.

"We managed to escape before they killed us, because the Mowani hate little girls and men without hair on their bodies."

"They would go crazy seeing you and your dad," I played along, and she nodded excitedly.

Sometimes, I thought she came to believe her own stories-- as if she molded life in her own way to make it prettier. Vee always had that ability. After all, she turned a shitty life into an extraordinary one by making the whole world a little bit hers.

"Did the scar come from the Mowani?"

She raised her hand, and the deformed skin shone in the sun. She shook her head.

"No, they took out this eye." She pointed to her left eye, and I opened my mouth confused when she touched it with a finger without blinking or provoking tears. "Actually, this one I have now is made of glass."

I frowned, but even though I pretended not to believe her, I couldn't stop looking at it. With Vee, it was easy to confuse fiction with reality. So sometimes I got lost.

"One night, we managed to escape from their camp. We ran to the beach and launched a flare into the sky. A boat saw us and rescued us. I burned my hand with the flare."

She shrugged at her supposed clumsiness and sighed.

I finished cutting out Kate Moss's face and scrunched it up until it disappeared between my fingers. When I looked back into Vee's eye, she couldn't help but burst out laughing.

I knew the shipwreck had never happened, because Vee had never left Seattle, and I knew the Mowani didn't exist, but she often slipped certain truths into her stories, for a split second, part of me had believed her eye might have been the victim of an unfortunate accident like her hand. Or worse.

And while I worried about her, Vee was laughing so hard that tears came to her eyes.

"You're a liar," I said, gently pushing her.

She stopped laughing and stood proudly. "Just because something didn't happen doesn't mean it's a lie. It's a story, silly. Just like books. Just because something didn't happen out there, doesn't make it any less real. You don't feel it any less here, either." She put her hand over her heart.

I gritted my teeth. If I was already angry, I was even more upset that she was right. Because, maybe, it was true that Vee didn't tell stories she had experienced, but she was the best at making up stories that ended up belonging to us.

I sighed and apologized the only way I knew how.

"Whose boat was that rescued you?"

Her eyes sparkled. "Jack Sparrow's, can you believe it?"

It was inevitable, laughter exploded in me so loudly, imagining Vee with the famous pirate that she jumped. Then she joined me, and we both ended up laughing so hard that everything else stopped mattering. Even the secrets she was hiding.

CHAPTER 5: YARON

It was my birthday, and even though she and I had already celebrated our birthdays together a few days earlier, I had arranged to meet my friends at my parents' house.

I had never included Vee in any group plans. I was one of the few people she let into her world. I knew no one else would get her. Daniel probably would, but no one else.

So, I kept Vee and my small group of friends apart.

But for the first time, I felt like bringing the two parts of my world together. As we walked down the path from her house toward the road, I noticed that she looked nervous. Her dark hair was pulled back with a flower headband she had made herself. Her denim overalls stuck out like a sack over her black sweater. She had decorated the sides of her eyes with glitter. Vee always loved to sparkle. She looked beautiful in her own way, one that never fit in with the fashion trends of the moment, or what was considered appropriate for a girl her age, but to me, it seemed to make her even prettier.

"I like your headband," I said.

She sighed with obvious relief and laughed.

"Thank goodness, Yaron! I didn't know if it would be too fancy for your birthday. I don't want to steal the attention from you."

I smiled. I realized, once again, that with Vee, there was no keeping things to myself. With Vee, I could say that I liked a flower headband, and it would be okay. Boys would have laughed at me and other girls would have looked at me strangely for not complimenting her dress or her shoes.

But with Vee, I could be myself.

However, as soon as we arrived at my house, and I saw the expression on my friends' faces, I knew I had made a huge mistake. There were things that should never be put together.

Teens can be cruel and thoughtless. They can destroy everything that stands out from the ordinary. No matter how unique teens claim they want to be, no one wants to stand out from the herd.

And Vee was a shining star.

"Do you think she is going to fit with the rest?" Daniel put his arm around my shoulders and whispered that question in my ear.

I twisted my mouth, "I was sure she would a while ago. Now, I'm not so sure."

"Don't worry, I got your back," Daniel said. My best friend looked like the stereotypical nerd. Tall, unkempt, his hair was a mess, and he was wearing thick glasses.

"I love your shirt," Vee said, placing a dirty nail on Daniel's Star Trek T-shirt.

"Thank you, Vee. I love your style," he praised her.

Vee smiled and twirled around.

Everything had gone more or less well, apart from the barely concealed glances from some of my friends towards Vee. They had even tried to include her in some conversation. Despite this, at one point there had been some tension in the atmosphere.

When Gillian asked her where she had bought that headband and Vee launched into a speech of hers about how she was going to become famous and successful with flower accessories that she would make herself.

"I didn't mean that because it's pretty," Gillian muttered, once Vee stopped her explanation and focused her attention back on her ice cream.

Or maybe it was Dave's question that made us all uncomfortable.

"What happened to your hand?" Vee slowly pulled back the sleeve of her sweater, exposing her scar. "It looks ugly."

Vee's wound was visible to everyone. At school, the kids often asked her how she had done it, and she would answer whatever she wanted or anything at all depending on her mood.

But there, that day, I could tell something was not right. I was aware that this time the question had upset her. Maybe it was the tone Dave used. Maybe it was the giggles of the girls behind him.

I looked at Vee. Her eyes were darker than usual. Her shoulders were tense. Her skinny body seemed even smaller in that huge sweater. She was no longer the indestructible girl capable of anything, but weak, vulnerable, and closer to the version that people had of her than the one I knew and admired.

I couldn't stand it. I wasn't going to let her be reduced to that. I wasn't going to tolerate anyone turning off her magic. So I spoke.

"She was struck by lightning."

All eyes turned to me, including Vee's.

"What?" asked Natalie, just as shocked as everyone else.

I didn't know if I could do it as well as Vee did, but I sure was going to try.

"Yes, she was struck by lightning right in the hand. It happened just before she moved here. It was during a huge electric storm. She was in the park looking for her dog. She passed out. She was unconscious for ten minutes. Or was it longer, Vee?"

Vee blinked. Her eyes lit up. I smiled at her and raised my eyebrows, encouraging her to continue my story, which was then hers. For the first time, I was the one giving her one, and I liked that. She curled her lips, sighed, and I read an implicit thank you on her lips that only the two of us saw.

"It was fifteen minutes. I was practically dead."

"And did you see anything? Is there a tunnel? A hooded man with a scythe? A bright light and a choir of angels?" asked Daniel, who was fascinated by stories of the afterlife.

"There is..."

Everyone held on to the table, waiting for Vee to reveal this universal secret; her eyes widened, and I knew from her theatricality that she was about to pull the wool over their eyes.

"There is a hot dog stand!"

Everyone snorted and Daniel laughed. I joined him. Vee took all the M&Ms from a bowl and put them in her mouth. Even though the tension in the room had already dissolved, from that moment on, I realized there were things in life that shouldn't be mixed.

And I realized that Vee was one of those things. She and I worked well together. When we were together, nothing else mattered to me.

"I like Vee, Yaron," Daniel said, and patted me on the back. "She always laughs at my jokes, and you know nobody does that. Most of them don't even get them."

"I know. I like her, too."

"But you know the others aren't comfortable with her. They say she's... weird."

I shrugged.

"I like that she's weird. We are also weird."

Daniel nodded. "I'm the last person to judge her. But I don't think she is going to fit with the rest."

"Yeah."

I didn't want to talk about Vee. I didn't want to analyze her. There was no point. Suddenly, I just wanted the day to be over, to hide with Vee somewhere in the woods surrounding her house.

"Natalie doesn't mind?"

I frowned at Daniel's question. Behind me, Natalie's laughter made my skin tingle.

"Why would she mind?"

"Are you blind? Natalie is crazy about you."

I blushed. I knew Natalie often sought me out and paid more attention to me than to the others, but I found it difficult to make a move on her. She was popular, I was not. Besides, I had never kissed a girl.

I liked Natalie. She was a pretty girl. She always smiled, she was kind and funny. I liked it when she came with us, because she made the effort to talk about movies and TV shows with Daniel and me. I hadn't even heard her criticize Vee, when the others often whispered disparaging comments about her looks. She was the only one who had looked at her headband that afternoon with a smile.

Natalie was a girl I not only wanted to hook up with, but one I could see myself hanging out with and talking about to my parents.

But Daniel's words made me think about something I had never thought about before. Something that would become a constant in my life.

"I like Natalie, but if she's upset that Vee is my friend, I'll stop being friends with her."

Daniel nodded and rejoined the group. Loyalty was a concept Daniel could understand very well. He was the most loyal friend I ever had. We always had each other's back. We were bullied a lot for being a couple of nerds. Daniel even more than me.

I stared at Vee in fascination. Her overalls were stained with chocolate milk. She had eaten so much that my friends had stared at her in amazement. Her headband had begun to come undone on one side and the lace of one shoe was undone. At first glance, she was a mess. The other girls chatted and laughed, standing a foot away from her.

They didn't pay much attention to her, but Vee showed them the same indifference. Their hair was curled to perfection and decorated with butterflies. They wore tight jeans and light-colored shirts that left their midriffs exposed, despite the cold. Their eyelids, painted secretly in the bar's bathroom, shined. I didn't understand why they wore makeup, but Natalie was pretty anyway, with pink powder that highlighted her blue eyes.

I sighed and sat down next to Vee.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Huh-huh."

I pushed her with my shoulder.

"Don't lie, Vee."

She stopped studying the invisible world in the ceiling and looked at me with wide, dark eyes.

"Your friends are awfully boring. Only Daniel is safe because he knows too many great jokes. Can we go now?"

I smiled. I looked one last time at my friends and Natalie.

Mostly at Natalie.

I had just turned fourteen and my priorities were beginning to change. Maybe soon, I'd dare ask her out.

Maybe one day, I'd even manage to kiss her without being scared to death. But not that afternoon. That afternoon I said goodbye to them and chose Vee.

Somehow, I never stopped choosing her.

++0++

An hour later, we were lying in the middle of the forest.

All I could hear was the hissing of the branches above our heads and the whisper of the faraway mountains. Until I met Vee, I had never realized it, but she had shown me that mountains spoke, if you stopped to listen to them. It was Vee who made me fall in love with nature.

"Do you hear them, Yaron?" Vee whispered to me.

And I nodded, scared to death, because I actually heard them-- even though it was impossible. With Vee, I soon learned that anything was possible. With her, I realized that the world was much more than what I could perceive with my senses.

That night, I didn't feel like listening to what the mountains had to say to us. I was restless because I realized we were growing up, and life was getting complicated.

As we grew older, the carefree days of childhood began to fade, replaced by the complexities of adolescence. The world, once a place of wonder and adventure, started to feel more demanding and uncertain. We were navigating new emotions, forming deeper relationships, and facing the pressures of school and society. It was a time of both excitement and anxiety, as we grappled with the transition from childhood to adulthood.

CHAPTER 6: YARON

I had been talking to Natalie for an hour, convincing her to come to my room. We have been dating for two weeks but I hadn't kissed her yet. It was one of those rare occasions when I had the house all to myself. We had gone to the movies, and neither of us wanted our date to end.

I had been hanging out with her and her friends lately. Natalie was okay, but her friends were not. Vee was right, they were shallow and boring. Talking about her, I hadn't spent time with Vee in some days.

Natalie was sitting on my bed. Her blue eyes were looking at me brightly, and her blonde hair was falling around her round face. Her lips looked so tempting. She was so pretty. It was finally going to happen. I was going to kiss Natalie.

I moved closer to her and slid an arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist. I lost myself in the smell of the perfume that came off her neck. As we got closer and closer, she parted her lips, and I...

"Yaron, look what old Barnaby gave me!" Vee stormed into my room and looked at us with one eyebrow raised, but no hint of shame. She had never known what shame was.

The door swung open so hard that Natalie screamed and jumped to her feet.

"Vee! What do you think you're doing? Didn't I tell you that you must knock before entering my room?"

She was holding what looked like pieces of tire. Her face was covered in dirt, as were the legs of her shorts.

Vee ignored me, walked over to the desk, and moved everything out of the way to place her new treasure. Whatever she wanted to do with it, I sensed it was just trash. I still didn't understand what she saw in the supposed treasures Barnaby gave her.

"I'm leaving, Yaron."

I looked at Natalie. She was blushing. She stood up and modestly adjusted her clothes. I also adjusted my jeans.

"I'll walk you downstairs."

"No need."

Natalie left without looking back, and I knew that if we continued like this, our relationship was doomed even before starting. I was never going to kiss her because of Vee.

Seconds later, I heard Natalie slam the door downstairs. I turned around, intending to tell Vee off, but seeing her sitting there, looking at her discovery with that smile she always got when she got excited about something, I forgot about everything and moved to her side.

"What are you going to do with this?" I inhaled the smell of the rubber and closed my eyes. "Vee, it smells like piss."

"Pee washes off, don't be squeamish. Plus, you smell like..." I blushed and shook my head, my body still feeling too sensitive.

"Don't say it."

Vee tilted her face, focusing again on this strange acquisition, and her enthusiasm filled the entire room.

"I'm going to make a collection of recycled jewelry! Isn't this a great idea?"

I smiled. It was. It always was. Vee's ideas always seemed great to me. Creativity was not her problem. However, her skills were far from perfect.

"And how are you going to do that?"

"We need to cut the rubber into strips. I thought about lacing thin ribbons with the glass beads from the lamp that Barnaby gave me."

"The one that hangs in your living room?"

She gave me a quick glance and smiled.

"Not anymore. I brought it down the other day. I took it all apart. Did you know that an electric shock can knock you unconscious for a couple of minutes?"

"Vee..." I whispered worriedly.

But she laughed. "I'm kidding, silly. It was only ten seconds."

I smiled. That was Vee. The only person in the world I would let ruin my date with Natalie. Also, the only one who would leave the smell of cat piss in my room when she left and not care.

"Come to my home. I'll show you."

I sighed and followed her.

Luke Hart rocked in the porch rocker, his face turned up to the sun. His eyes were closed, and a can of beer was between his legs. I had searched online about depression, and they said alcohol only worsened it and made it harder to treat.

He was wearing the same old clothes as the last time I had seen him wandering around town three days before. Even though I had come to respect Luke for being a fundamental part of Vee's life, at times I hated him. I couldn't help it. When I looked at the worn and old clothes Vee wore, I was consumed with rage. Every time she was made fun of for her lack of resources, her badly cut hair, or her eccentricities, I silently blamed Luke. If Vee's stomach rumbled loudly because her fridge was empty that day, I imagined ways to beat her father up for not being able to take care of the most valuable thing he had.

"Mr. Hart."

"Mr. Beilinson."

I laughed at his greeting, and he smiled without opening his eyes.

"Hi, Vee."

"Hi, Dad. I'm going to make recycled jewelry and make a lot of money with it."

"Good for you, Vee."

She pushed open the wire mesh, and we went to the living room. Everything was as it always was, covered in dust and junk that Vee refused to throw away. Some of his useless inventions were mixed on the shelves with empty bottles and old photographs proving that Vee's father had once been a normal guy with a beautiful woman, not the shadow of the man he was then. Vee was barely keeping him alive.

We went out the kitchen door and sat at the garden table. There was a pile of rubber pieces and colored glass that sparkled in the sunlight. She took a piece of glass and wore it as if it were a monocle.

"Welcome to my mansion, Mr. Beilinson. Come in and have a seat, please."

I took a bow and obeyed her. With Vee, it was the most sensible decision.

"What are you going to show me, Miss Hart?"

"Well, first of all, I must tell you that you are privileged. You are about to be the first human being to see the collection of jewels that will revolutionize the world of fashion. In a few years, this moment will be talked about in books."

I pursed my lips because I was unable to remain serious.

In front of me, Vee was pretending it was a great moment for humanity. The glass of that lens, which I didn't know where she had gotten it from, made her right eye look enormous.

She had her hair tied up under one of her hats, and gloves, which were once white, covered her elbows.

I cleared my throat and slipped into the role she had given me on that occasion. Daniel and I were used to role-playing games, so it wasn't hard for me.

"Thank you for allowing me this honor. I promise that I will assume such responsibility as it deserves."

She nodded theatrically, then pulled out a handkerchief and showed me the jewelry. They were a mess. I didn't even understand what each piece was or how to put them on. I saw only pieces of poorly cut rubber with crystals stuck to them. Silicone was sticking out from under each piece, and there were globs of it everywhere.

I swallowed hard and met Vee's hopeful gaze.

"They're beautiful."

They were the worst I'd seen in a long time, but that version of Vee was one of my favorites. The dreamy girl who tried hard, even though she wasn't quite sure what her dreams were; she just wanted to fly high enough to get away from the hole that was home.

"Go on, don't be shy."

I took a breath, ran my hand over my chin thoughtfully, and tried hard to play along, even though I was terrified of hurting her. With Vee, that always happened to me. She would get so excited about things, embark on so many projects, that I wanted something to work out for her. Yet she seemed destined to lose.

"They are so beautiful that..." I stopped short of words.

"What? What is it?" I clicked my tongue and then found the way out. I crossed my fingers in my head that it would work.

"Look, Vee," she frowned, and I corrected myself, "I'm sorry, Miss Hart, I see a big problem with your talent. Your creativity is so different that no one will understand it. You live ahead of your time. I regret to tell you that these jewels should be kept until humanity is ready to admire and understand them."

Vee blinked. She took off her monocle and crossed her arms. Her eye grew back to normal size, black, a little sad, even though she was an expert at camouflaging that feeling. Then she sighed with resignation.

"You're right, Yaron. I guess I just wasn't made for these times. Come on. I'll hide them in the shed. Plus, I've cut myself with the damn glasses. They're dangerous. I don't want to slit a supermodel's neck and have her sue me."

She showed me her hand after taking off her gloves, and I saw a small gauze covering the cut she had made at the height of the scar.

"How did you get it?"

She smiled.

"Oh, this? It's a long story. It involves a roe deer, a vanilla milkshake, and a phantom hitchhiker."

I laughed. It was inevitable.

We got up and snuck into the kitchen. Her father still dozed on the porch.

"Do you want something to drink?"

Vee opened the fridge. As usual, it was empty.

The beer cans gleamed between two chocolate yogurts.

Her face no longer glowed; the energy that had been brimming a while before had evaporated. Reality had hit her again, hard. Her jewelry was nothing more than junk, instead of the path to a better future. Her father was still a loser who treated his depression with alcohol. The kitchen ceiling had a hole that would eventually collapse, and she hadn't eaten properly for days.

Vee's diet was based on pastries, onion rings, and canned beans. They barely kept going with state aid and the favors of some neighbors.

She loved her father more than anything in the world, I never doubted that, but it was too much to handle for a young teen without resources.

Her life was shit, even though she pretended to be happy in a way that few understood.

Vee loved and hated her life with the same intensity. The balance with her did not work.

"Do you want to go to the bakery? They have some lemon puff pastries. I could smell them from my house," I said. "My treat."

They were her favorites. I only had money to buy one, but I didn't care if with that, Vee returned to her usual self, if I could get her out of that hole for a few hours, if I made her smile again.

CHAPTER 7: YARON

That night, when I came back home, I told my parents about Vee's father.

"There's nothing you can do, Yaron. People like Luke Hart don't change, no matter how many chances you give them. The man can't keep a job. He is what he is. There's not much more to it," my father sentenced.

"His wife died, and he's depressed, Dad."

"He shouldn't be drinking then."

I didn't believe what my father had said. I believed people could change. I wanted to help people like Luke Hart or Barnaby become better versions of themselves. With the right help, people could turn their lives around if they put their minds to it.

Dad was right about Vee's father, but I didn't want to hear anything about that, because if her father died, Social Services were going to take Vee away from me, and they would probably do their best to extinguish her light. To turn her into a "normal girl," and Vee would become a shadow of the person she was.

"I'll pray for him," my mother said. I doubted that praying would help Vee or her father at all.

"Mom, I'm going to see Vee," I announced after dinner.

I walked into the kitchen. Mom was doing the dishes. Taking advantage of her back to me, I put a couple of lunch boxes from the fridge in my backpack so that Luke and Vee could have a decent dinner that night. I knew Mom had made them on purpose. We both knew that she had been cooking too much lately, and the reason was obvious.

My mother never liked Vee. She didn't say it openly, but it was easy to guess that she wasn't the company she wanted for her only son. But she was a good Jewish woman, and it's obligatory on every Jewish person to help the poor and the needy.

She sighed and nodded. "When was the last time you went out with Daniel and the rest?"

More than a week. I had seen Natalie alone, but she brushed me off.

So, I had preferred to spend the rest of my free time with Vee, instead of the others. I thought of my friends-- Natalie, Dave, Gillian, and all the others with whom I had shared classes since childhood and to whom I remained very close. I appreciated them, I liked being with them, however... something in me always pulled a little more towards Vee.

"I chat with Daniel almost every night," I said. "We're constantly messaging or playing games."

"That doesn't count, Yaron. What's wrong with good old face-to-face communication? The other day that girl was wearing a wedding dress, Yaron," my mother quickly said, bringing up the topic of my friendship with Vee again.

My mother's words caught my attention despite my effort to ignore her.

"What do you mean, Mom?"

She shook her head and continued washing the dishes. "She was at the supermarket. She was wearing a white dress that was so loose on her that she had tied it with a string around her hips."

I imagined Vee in her mother's wedding dress and shuddered. I knew her well enough to know that she would have worn it proudly, as a tribute to the mother she never knew, but Vee often forgot that not everyone understood her way of understanding things. And what is not understood is scary, always.

"I want you to find a good Jewish girl, get married and give me a lot of grandchildren, Yaron."

I blushed at the warning implicit in her words. My relationship with Vee had no future. But, which relationship did at that age? It was crazy. I was attracted to Natalie. I wanted to kiss her, not Vee.

"Vee is just a friend, Mom. She's lonely, and she needs a friend to take care of her, you know that."

My mother nodded. Even when I couldn't see her face, I knew she was smiling.

Vee was a girl. I'd always known that. But until that moment, I hadn't realized what it entailed. One day, Vee would meet a boy, and he would want to do to her all the things I dreamed of doing to Natalie.

He would kiss her. He would touch her. He--

"Fuck," I whispered.

My mother heard it, but didn't say anything.

I left home, confused and nervous, and wishing I could freeze that moment and never grow up. To be the Yaron and Vee that we were at that moment forever.

Just dreaming of a future that would never come and that could no longer disappoint us.

But there was a problem with that, and it was that Vee wanted to reach that future more than anything else, so I had no choice, but to accept that life was getting complicated for us.

Before I closed the door, I heard my mother's murmur like a background song that would repeat itself in my head years later, every time a new wound opened.

"Take care of yourself, Yaron, for Hashem's sake. Don't tie yourself down to someone who isn't made for ropes."

Maybe that was her way of warning me of everything that was about to come.

CHAPTER 8: YARON

The next years passed way too quickly.

We were lying on Vee's bed in our own bubble where nothing and no one could hurt us.

"What if tomorrow, the world ends?"

"Don't start with that again, Vee."

"Why not? It could happen. Maybe aliens will invade Earth. You know they are real."

I laughed.

Vee had read a sci-fi novel and had become obsessed with the idea of aliens invading our planet. It appealed to both her sense of wonder and her need for something extraordinary to happen in her life.

When Vee took something seriously, there was no getting it out of her head. I was a nerd, I loved to discuss things like that, but not every day and all the time.

"Let's talk about something else."

She ignored me, of course.

"What if tonight flying saucers finally arrive like in that movie we watched and they take us to their planet."

I smiled, although my smile faded when she hugged me and I felt her fears.

"Do you know what bothers me most?" she asked, with a trembling voice.

I shook my head.

"I'd die alone. My father would be so drunk that he wouldn't even know what happened, and I wouldn't be able to tell you that I got the scar on my hand climbing Kilimanjaro or tell you that I was right, and you weren't," she said, as she sat up, her long arms wrapped around her knees.

I sat up and looked at her. Her eyes were still lost looking through the window. Her shoulders, straight and bony, stood out. I looked at her hands, with her bitten nails always dirty.

Vee had grown up. We both had, but in her case, it was too obvious. She had become a girl that some boys looked at openly when they crossed her. At school, the boys whispered obscenities because she was the only one who did not seem to notice that her chest had rounded and that her curves were more prominent if she did not wear a bra.

Vee moved through the world without hiding, without fear, without looking back, with a confidence that beat that of any teenager. So confident in her own skin that it was impossible not to be overshadowed. She might not be the prettiest girl, but she was different. And different not only scares, but also attracts in a way that few things do.

Nothing had changed between us. We were still inseparable. From time to time, I would disappear for a few days to go out with Daniel and my friends. I was trying to find a balance between my two worlds. Vee didn't hold it against me. I never asked her to go with me again, and she didn't show any desire to do so. I preferred not to mix what we have with the rest of the world. Or, maybe, I wanted her just for myself.

I don't know. Maybe I was afraid that one of my friends would see what I had always seen in her.

My brief relationship with Natalie had long since ended. She grew tired of me spending time with Vee, instead of her.

It wasn't that I didn't like Natalie. She was funny, intelligent, considerate, and drop-dead gorgeous. Her body awakened mine without much effort. She was a great kisser, too. Yeah, I finally got t kissed her. We understood each other. Her family and mine knew and respected each other. Plus, she was Jewish.

There were no obstacles to our relationship working out, and yet one day, we said goodbye, knowing that it was the most sensible thing to do. The mourning had not lasted long. After all, the following year I would go to Harvard to become a psychologist, and she would leave for Yale.

I had been talking a lot with the school counselor about my next step. I wanted to help people like Luke or Barnaby.

"Would you like to be a psychiatrist?" the school counselor suggested to me.

"No, I've been reading on the Internet about it. A psychiatrist has to go to medical school, and I don't want to do that. Besides, they just prescribe you some pills and that's it."

I didn't want to experience the brutality of medical school and residency. I had seen too many shows about doctors and hospitals. Residency was hell.

But, the main reason was that I wanted to work with people doing "talk" therapy.

"I want to listen to people and their problems and help them to feel better about themselves."

"Then, you want to become a clinical psychologist or a counselor," the school counselor said, and he explained to me the difference.

I chose to be a clinical psychologist and get a Ph. D., instead of becoming a counselor because, generally speaking, clinical psychologists have more opportunities and more independence than master's-level therapists do.

Around that time, looking at Vee had become a hidden hobby that ashamed me. I watched her carefully as she sat on the bed, while she reflected on apocalyptic theories. I studied carefully the same profile that I had seen before me so many times, but that suddenly seemed different. One that made me think of the shape of her nose, her slightly slanted eyes, the olive tone of her skin. The curve of her lips.

Details that had always been there, but that had gained strength in the last few months and that stood out above everything else we had been until then.

Vee turned around and I got nervous. I didn't want her to catch me staring at her this way.

"If aliens are going to destroy our world, you couldn't throw anything in my face because you'd be dead. I'd be dead. Everyone would be dead."

"You don't understand anything, Yaron Beilinson."

She chuckled and hid inside herself, turning her back to me. Her tension made me realize that there was something that mattered to her. I jumped up and touched her shoulder.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Vee sighed. She pushed her hair out of her face and her eyes met mine. They were so full of pain my heart melted. They were always much braver.

Vee sighed and confessed what had been on her mind. "If the world ends tomorrow, at least I wouldn't be stuck here. There are too many things I haven't done, Yaron, and probably never will."

The last words were barely a whisper.

Then, it dawned on me, Vee was still looking for a way out, clinging to crazy ideas that occurred to her to achieve her dreams, often living in a fantasy world that was more like that of children playing in the back yard than of a seventeen-year-old girl.

She barely interacted with anyone. She had no friends except for me. The girls in the area rejected her because she didn't fit in with what they expected of an equal and Vee didn't care, since her concerns were very different.

She spent more time with Barnaby, searching crap through his barn and sharing secrets, than she didn't share with anyone her own age.

She had never shown any interest in any boy. Her world was her depressed, drunk father, old Barnaby, and me.

She didn't seem to need anything else, but she craved everything. That was her strength and her weakness.

I realized, once again, how different Vee was from every other person I knew. Most of the guys around my age were looking forward to going to a party, getting drunk, and making out with some girl they met.

In my and Daniel's case, we had our movies, comics, novels, TV shows and computer games. We were both going to college. We both had a future.

"Okay, Vee, what would you like to do before aliens take over planet Earth?"

Her smile filled everything. She jumped and became someone else again. She shook off that hopelessness and became the Vee who had so much desire that she could blow up the world on her own.

She searched through her closet and began to change clothes, not caring about my company. She threw her shirt on the floor and I looked away from her sports bra. It was thin, white, as plain as it could be, a little childish compared to the lace I had seen on Natalie, and yet her prominent nipples awakened something in me that had never gone to sleep when it came to her.

"I want to succeed. I want to be famous."

I looked away from her flat stomach and smiled tenderly at her.

It would always be the first goal on her list. It was always the only chance to turn her life around and get out of the hole she had fallen into with her father. And she didn't take half measures; if she dreamed, she did it without limits. She didn't know how she would get there, but she was sure she would.

People like her were destined for great things, or they would die trying.

"I think the fame and success store is already closed," I said, with a grin.

"That's true. Besides, I want to buy the premium package and my piggy hasn't eaten enough yet." Vee shrugged, as if it didn't matter and got rid of her pants. She was wearing yellow panties. I had seen her like that countless times, but, for the first time, I felt like I was opening my eyes to what was in front of me. She was very pretty. Scratch that-- she was gorgeous in her very unique way. I admired her long, perfect legs and the roundness of her butt.

My body tensed and I felt bad. Guilty. Blame my Jewish mother for that.

I never thought I would feel this way about my best friend. Something in me had changed. I didn't know when it had happened exactly, or why-- only that my feelings for Vee were different. From that day on, I never looked at her the same way again.

Vee picked out a pair of jeans and I stopped seeing so much skin.

I felt worse.

She found a mustard sweater among the rumpled sheets of her unmade bed and put it on. It was thick wool and was too big for her.

"I want my father to stop drinking and do something about his depression." Her sad smile hid in the twists of a colorful scarf.

"Vee..."

I felt a pang in my chest. It hurt. It hurt that she had to deal with things that should only torment us as adults and not as teens. It wasn't fair.

"I know... I know... I'm just answering your question."

She threw my coat at me and headed for the door with her head held high, because Vee was like that.

"But tonight, I want to get drunk with you and shout to the world to fuck it, because we are immortal and we are never going to die! I'm going to be famous and live forever!"

"Okay. Let's do it." I grabbed a blanket and followed her.

She picked a six pack from the fridge and walked to the back yard.

CHAPTER 9: YARON

Outside, it was freezing cold. Vee's teeth were chattering. We sat down and Vee put the blanket over our shoulders. She rested her head on my chest. It felt great.

Vee opened the first can and we both drank a long gulp.

"Okay, dream girl, if aliens don't invade Earth next year, what are you going to do when we finish high school?"

Suddenly, she got serious.

"You know what I'll do, silly." It was true. She had no problem sharing her aspirations with me or anyone who cared to listen. I had heard Vee talk about her dreams a thousand times, but I loved the expression on her face when she shared them with me.

"As soon as we finish high school I'll leave Seattle, Yaron. I'll grab my backpack and leave this city without looking back."

I swallowed hard, because suddenly, I perceived that this future was getting closer. And Vee was getting more and more serious about it.

"Where are you going?"

"Paris... London... Milan... The whole world. I'll probably start in Los Angeles."

"A lot of people go to L. A. full of dreams, Vee. But not all of them succeed."

Vee opened a can a beer and drank a long gulp. Then, she belched and laughed. When she did, her bangs moved under her wool cap. They were always too long and badly cut, since she fixed them herself in front of the mirror.

"There's always room for someone who's up for anything."

"Up for anything." Those words, and the truth behind them, terrified me.

"And when you succeed, when you become rich and famous, what will you do then?"

Her gaze showed nothing but determination. She never considered the possibility of not achieving her goals.

"I'll make sure my father is okay. And I'll come back for you, Yaron Beilinson."

I smiled. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath waiting for that promise. Lately, when Vee talked about her dreams, she seemed light years away from me.

"What about you?"

I sighed, thinking of my own future. The next year, I'd be in Harvard, and I'd be away for a lot of years.

We had never talked openly about what was going to happen to us after finishing high school. We had taken it for granted that somehow our friendship would survive, that we would still be together.

"You know I want to be a psychologist. I want to help people."

"Is that your dream?"

I pondered the question. I allowed myself time to come to grips with it. Mostly because no one had ever asked it to me. My parents had always thought I would work in my father's company. He assumed the Beilinson legacy would continue under the tutelage of his eldest son.

It sounded logical, even practical. But the one thing I knew for sure-- my future wasn't working with my father. I didn't want to become a younger version of my dad, working non-stop until late, arriving at a house where a Jewish woman and children were waiting for me. A boring, routine life that didn't appeal to me, not after sharing half of my life with Vee.

Like Vee, I dreamed big. But unlike my friend, I didn't care about fame and fortune. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to change lives.

That was the man I wanted to be. That was the future that I was attracted to, that suited me.

Then, I looked at her again, while she drank another can of beer, and imagined the two of us. A Yaron and a Vee whose paths slowly separated until a chasm formed between them. I saw her taking a backpack, saying goodbye to her father and me, and going to L. A. Going away to chase her dreams.

I watched my adult self receiving calls from Vee across the world, telling me how well she was doing, how happy she was, and missing her so much that I felt it in that moment in the pit of my stomach. The feelings were painful, stabbing, choking.

How could the future be so heartbreaking and comforting at the same time?

"Will you take care of my father when I'm gone?"

Her hand brushed mine with a shyness that had never been there before.

"I'll ask my family to check on him, and I'll come to visit him whenever I'm back from college, too."

"Is that a promise?"

I nodded. I needed something to hold on to that would connect me to Vee, when she was would be gone one day. Even if that something was her father.

I looked at her and realized we were too close. It wasn't new, there was never any space or distance between us, but this was the first time I thought my mouth was a couple of inches away from hers.

"What else do you want, Vee?" I whispered.

Vee hesitated. She looked scared. Terrified, actually.

"I want to kiss you, Yaron."

My heart jumped into my throat.

I wanted it, too. At that moment, I couldn't think of anything other than what her mouth tasted like.

Suddenly, we were even closer. There was barely room for a finger between us. It was going to happen. Vee and I were going to kiss and a part of me knew that this would change everything. Even so, l had no choice. If I imagined a future without Vee around, everything went blank.

I felt like I was on the edge of a cliff with the choice of falling and discovering what was below, or stepping away and anchoring my feet back on safe ground.

It was Vee who ended up pushing us both, as she always did. She intertwined her fingers with mine and she kissed me.

The moment our lips touched, I felt it for the first time. In my gut. In everything that surrounded me. The vertigo of falling. I had fallen in love with Vee. The feelings were overwhelming. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time.

Vee caressed my cheek with two fingers and bit my mouth, as if she had done it a thousand times.

"If I did it wrong, tell me, Yaron. It was my first kiss."

So sure. So determined. So brave.

"It was the best kiss I ever had, Vee," I said in a hoarse voice.

She looked around, and then back at me. "This is going to be our special place, forever. The place of our first kiss. If aliens come to Earth and we are apart, this is where we'll meet. Promise me you'll come."

I rolled my eyes, and said, "If aliens invade Earth, I'll meet you here. I promise, Vee."

CHAPTER 10: VEE

I looked at Yaron and felt it. The tip of my tongue itched, my lips were longing for his and the butterflies in my stomach had become restless.

Yaron had kissed me. Or I had kissed him? Or we had both kissed each other? I no longer remembered the details. They were mixed up. Mixed like a palette of colors that formed a new one. Indescribable. Unique.

What color was a kiss? Ours was like a rainbow when it rained and you see the tiny drops of water clinging from the leaves.

I had bitten his lips like a cake before knowing what his mouth tasted like. His taste was similar. Sweet. Addictive. So good that I had to do it again.

That's why, the next morning, I went to his house. That's why I rang his doorbell. I needed him. I needed to feel his lips on mine again... and again... and again...

Hannah opened the front door. Or maybe it was Miriam. They looked as alike as two peas in a pod, and I didn't pay enough attention to them to tell them apart. I only knew that the oldest of the three was Martha, because she had dark hair, not blonde like the sun. Unfortunately, she liked me the least.

"Hello, Vee." She turned and shouted toward the stairs to the upper floor.

"Yaron, Vee is here!"

When I heard his name, I shivered. You could hear a word so many times that it would lose its meaning, its importance, and would end up being completely indifferent to you. However, to hear it after a vital moment like a kiss, then the tickling was inevitable. The word grew, expanded inside you, and became something with the ability to make you shiver.

Yaron appeared through the gap on the second floor and I sped up.

What if I ran to him and kissed him again? What if I threw myself against his chest, wrapped my legs around his hips and never let go? That was what I wanted. I'd never needed something so much. My hands itched to touch him. And my heart was beating like a scared little bird. I'd never felt anything like it before.

Nothing was different from the day before, we were still the same, but, when my eyes met Yaron's blue ones, I felt warm inside. Our kiss had left glowing embers in my heart.

He came down the stairs and looked at me with doubt painted on his face. His eyes were so beautiful, lively, scared, intelligent.

"I missed you, Vee."

"I missed you, too, Yaron."

My first kiss had set off an explosion. The world as I knew it had ended, and something new had begun. A new universe. Our universe.

I wanted to kiss his eyelids. His nose. The base of his throat. The small scar he had made on his chin the previous winter, when we slid down the snowy slopes on a piece of cardboard.

I had only given one kiss in my life and I was already reproaching myself for having wasted so much time without knowing what it would be like to use my lips on every corner of his skin.

Silly. Silly. Silly. Why did it take me seventeen years to do it?

Instead of giving free rein to my desires, I spoke without filter, because I have never been good at controlling what I said, or what I did, or who I was.

"I've never had a boyfriend. Until yesterday, I had never kissed anyone. Nor had I wanted one. I had never imagined it would be like this. You will be forever in my heart, Yaron Beilinson."

Yaron swallowed. His mouth tightened into a thin line. His hands were sweaty, I knew him well because he rubbed his palms with his fingers when it happened-- h              e was nervous. So was I. I wanted to jump, and scream. I wanted to do so many things at the same time that it was hard for me to think straight.

He opened his mouth, but I wanted to let it all out.

"Do you regret our kiss? We can try again. You've kissed Natalie, you can teach me. Because there will be a second time, Yaron. I don't care now or in a million years. It's impossible that in this universe you and I will never kiss again."

And then, I saw it, he was holding back a laugh.

"It was not bad, Vee."

His eyes glimmered with mischief. That look would soon become one of my favorites.

A shy smile appeared on my lips. "Not that bad? Are you kidding me? It was great!"

Yaron laughed and nodded. "Beyond great, Vee. Mind blowing. Come, let's take a walk away from prying eyes."

He took my hand and I felt it again. My heart was beating like a bomb about to explode.

I could stay and live forever in that dizziness that Yaron had awakened in me.

He looked at me and my legs became jelly.

"After what happened yesterday, it's impossible for me to see you and not do this."

He grabbed my cheek firmly and captured my lips with his. He wrapped his body around my body and promised me without words that this wasn't the end, but the beginning.

CHAPTER 11: VEE

I heard a noise outside. I took a look at the old alarm clock. It was three in the morning. The first thing that crossed my mind was that it was my father coming back home, drunk again. His change of attitude had lasted longer than expected. He had started attending a group for people with addictions. He went two afternoons a week and it seemed that in just a month, his appearance had improved. He still drank, but he had even been able to hold on to a job for a whole month.

He had even done some repairs to the house. Our garden was no longer a jungle and almost the shadow of a pleasant home was in sight. A few days ago, Yaron and I had been busy renovating the kitchen ceiling and Dad had helped us.

But it wasn't my father.

Footsteps sounded coming up the stairs. They stopped in front of my door.

My heart started beating faster and faster, but I didn't move. I was pure excitement. I could feel that addictive feeling that only came with him. The vertigo of flying so high that everything else disappeared.

Yaron.

I bit my lip and waited. The door opened.

I smiled, hugging my pillow, when he knelt next to my bed.

He brushed my hair out of my face and my smile grew even more intense.

I opened my eyes.

It was the first time he had sneaked into my house in the middle of the night. We had spent many moments together after the sun had set.

The intensity of my feelings was overwhelming.

Yaron was the first boy that brought out these emotions in me. From the first moment I saw him, I made a space for him inside me and I had no doubt that his life was linked to mine, in ways I couldn't understand.

Best friends. Confidants. Family. We had been all that and we were becoming something else.

Love is a small word. Short. Concise. It barely fits a breath. But it's immense. Terrifying.

I realized after kissing Yaron, there was no other option for me than to love him.

Yaron laughed and I bit his neck before cornering him on my porch and tangling my tongue with his. I wanted more. I hadn't had enough.

"You drive me crazy, Yaron Beilinson."

"You give me too much credit, Miss Hart. You were already crazy before you met me," he whispered.

He ran his fingers over my cheek. Over my nose. Over my mouth. I enjoyed looking at him so up close. The blue of his eyes. His slightly turned-up nose. The feel of his skin.

I didn't speak, I just let Yaron look at me, touch me, and do whatever was so urgent that it couldn't wait until the next morning.

He licked his lips and furrowed his brow. When Yaron made that gesture, something deep inside him also wrinkled; I knew it because I could almost feel it. His heart and mine were connected in ways I didn't even try to understand.

"I love you, Vee."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. I picked his words up, wrapped them in bubble wrap so they would never break, and locked them in my heart. No one had ever said those words to me. Not even my father.

They caused an earthquake inside me. I wished I could freeze that moment in time and live in it forever. Like a never-ending time loop where Yaron would come to me in the middle of the night to tell me he loved me.

I finally found my voice.

"I know, silly."

Yaron smiled, but shook his head.

"No, Vee, you couldn't know, because until today, I was not aware of how much you mean to me, and how deeply I love you. It was keeping me awake, so I had to come to tell you."

I looked at him and understood his fear. For me, fear was not something dark that tormented me, like it was for Yaron at that moment. Fear pushed beyond my limits, fear was a reason to jump.

"But now I do," I said.

Yaron nodded, left a soft kiss on my lips and disappeared again, silent as a thief, leaving behind the memory of his lips.

++0++

"Did you have a good time?" Yaron asked me.

I nodded. We had gone to the movies. It was our first official date, even though when we had been "dating" since the day we met. We had snuck into a movie that was not allowed for our age, but that I was dying to see. Yaron had bought me so much candy that my stomach had started to hurt, but I still kept eating.

Every time I looked at Yaron, a knot formed in my stomach like when you go down on a roller coaster.

We walked, hand in hand, to my house. We kissed as if we were not going to see each other again the next morning. I was getting better at kissing.

He rested his forehead against mine and sighed.

"It's late, my family is waiting for me."

I nodded and let him go.

Before reaching the end of the path that marked the entrance to my house, he turned and I ran towards him. My black hair flew in the wind. I jumped into his arms and my legs surrounded him before he could react. I slammed my mouth on his and whispered through my teeth. "You are my whole world," before letting go and disappearing as quickly as I had come.

CHAPTER 12: YARON

I walked into the kitchen and took the juice out of the fridge. I was practically floating on the floor.

My father peeked in and stood there, staring at me. Somehow, I knew. I knew we were about to have a significant conversation. One that would be repeated in the future, even if in different ways, but one that would change everything between us.

"Can I talk to you, Yaron?"

"Sure, Tatele."

I took a sip of the juice. It tasted bitter. My father sat across the table from me and propped his elbows up before sighing, and blurting out what seemed to be bothering him.

"Your mother is worried about you."

I rolled my eyes. "What's new about that?"

He nodded and thought about his words before sharing them with me.

"This time is different." He let the silence hang over us for a while and then, he added, "I remember what it was like to be seventeen. Believe or not, I was seventeen, too."

"Please tell me this is not a talk about sex."

"No, Yaron. It's about her."

He did not even have to name her; her image floated between the two of us like a ghost; her madness, her eyes sparkling with excitement, the sound of her laugh, her kisses...

"You need to end it as soon as possible. You have no future with her."

I tensed up and he noticed it. It wasn't an order, just a reality in front of which no other had a place.

"She has burdens. Her life is not compatible with yours. Maybe it's not noticeable now, but the more time passes, the differences will only generate problems.

We both knew that some neighbors whispered when they saw us. The rumors about us had never stopped being present.

Despite everything, nothing mattered too much to us. The girls stopped being interested in me. After a couple of rejections, they realized that my relationship with Vee was serious and I was not available.

My friends tolerated my absences; even Daniel, who seemed slightly disappointed because we saw each other less and less. I stopped being the accommodating Yaron that they knew, and became one who was only accommodating with Vee.

Maybe I did wrong.

Some evenings we would wander through the woods and let ourselves dream about our future.

"She is not Jewish, Yaron."

"Please, not this again, Dad," I answered, with a certain bitterness that he overlooked.

"Blood lines are very important to us, and you know it. One day, you're going to meet a good Jewish girl and you're going to get married. It's better to end your relationship now. The more you give this girl hope, the more it's going to hurt when you split. A few kisses are not worth it."

I shook my head before saying a word, pondering my next words. I was ready to switch to attack mode.

Knowing my father, I could understand his reasons. I was his only male offspring. The son who was responsible to continue his name, his legacy. I also knew one day in the future, he was going to disown me, because there was no way I was going to let Vee go.

"Yes, it is. My relationship with Vee is worth it, Dad."

A voice in my head kept whispering to me that Vee would leave one day to pursue her dreams. And I would leave to pursue mine.

Maybe my father wasn't so wrong. Because not being able to see Vee every day, it would hurt. Still, I was willing to try to keep our relationship alive despite the distance.

"No, Yaron. Sooner or later, it will end. You will suffer and she will suffer."

I swallowed. I tried to calm myself by finishing the juice in my glass. It felt like acid in my stomach.

I'd never been very good at disappointing others. Especially my parents. They had done a lot for me. They had always supported me.

That was why, that day, I hated myself. Because I was aware that I was no longer the perfect son I had always been.

From that moment on, I was going to make them suffer, because I knew the road ahead of me was going to tear us apart.

"Dad. You don't understand I... I love her."

He smiled halfway and nodded. Deep down, I sensed that he thought I was still too young to know what true love meant. I liked that he didn't belittle my feelings.

"First love is always important. But we rarely marry with the first woman we love. You don't forget the person who discovers love for you, but you must accept that it only opens the door to the one who is to come. It prepares you for the true love of your life."

It wouldn't be the first time I heard theories about love and it would not be the last.

But Dad had no idea about the kind of relationship Vee and I had. We had been dating for two months, but we had been walking a path together for almost half our lives.

The mere thought of not having Vee in my life made me sick.

The tension between us was palpable. What my father said was not crazy, but I needed to make him understand that our relationship was deeper than puppy love.

"I'm not going to stop seeing her."

He shook his head and clicked his tongue.

"We are not going to forbid you anything, Yaron. We have never been those kinds of parents. But our duty is to make you see what you are blind to."

"And what is that?"

"That girl is complicated."

"I have never liked what is easy."

Unexpectedly, my father burst out laughing.

"I agree with you on that."

He gave me one last look and simply stood up.

"Just think about it, son."

He left me alone. I meditated on his advice, or perhaps warnings, until I came to the conclusion that things that were worthwhile, usually cost effort.

CHAPTER 13: YARON

I sensed something had changed the moment I saw her.

Her eyes were shining. She bit her lip harder and harder with each second. Something was happening. Something important. Something that kept Vee in a state that I had only seen when she was truly excited.

"What's wrong, Vee? You're scaring me."

Her eyes became cloudy.

"I love you. That's what happens."

She smiled and hugged me tightly. I inhaled the smell of her hair. I ignored the warnings that whispered in my head that something was changing. I covered up the sound of the fucking ticking.

"I love you, Yaron. I love you. Do you feel it?"

Something was wrong.

"Vee..."

"Tomorrow is my birthday."

I nodded. I swallowed. The knot was lodged in me.

Fear settled between us.

"Don't say it, Vee..."

She closed her eyes. She pressed her forehead against mine.

"I'm turning eighteen."

"Don't pressure me, I won't give you your present until tomorrow."

She laughed. And then, she cried. Vee, the one who never cried, the strongest girl I'd ever met, collapsed.

I knew it. I felt it in every pore of my skin. I pressed her against me.

She was getting ready to leave. She was still in my arms and a part of her had already flown away.

"How long?"

"Not yet. It's still early. I don't even have money for a plane ticket. I don't even know if I could ever afford it. I may never make it."

I kissed her to shut her up, but that didn't stop me from hearing the first flutters of a farewell in my head.

"I had a dream last night," she said, in a whisper.

"Okay, what was the dream about?"

"I dreamed about a beautiful pitch black raven. I was wandering through a vast, misty forest, feeling lost and unsure of where to go. Then, the raven appeared and began circling above me. Though the forest was dark and ominous, the raven's presence gave me a sense of calm and confidence. I followed the bird until I saw a clear path in front of me and a bright light shone over me."

"Interesting. What do you think it means?"

"I have no idea, but it felt strangely real to me."

CHAPTER 14: VEE

We had everything. I had never believed that the universe could fit in one hand, but it did in Yaron's, when he intertwined it with mine. On his back, when he gave me a piggyback ride through the woods and we shared dreams.

Our afternoons were filled with of confidences, promises of eternal love and kisses. Lots and lots of kisses. We couldn't get enough of ourselves.

I turned eighteen in front of a chocolate cake that I had made myself and shared with my father and Yaron. My world was small, but immense in what really mattered. It didn't matter that Dad still drank, nor that most of the day he didn't take his pills. Nor that no one else had congratulated me. Nor that they had painted the word 'crazy' on our mailbox for the umpteenth time. These things slipped away from me because I was with Yaron.

"I have something for you," he said, grinning at me.

"Is this your way of telling me you want to do it? My father is in the kitchen."

"No, my birthday is in three days," he said, with a wink.

I nodded. Yaron wanted both of us to be eighteen for our first time.

He took my hand and pulled me upstairs. We locked ourselves in my room and he handed me a small package.

"What is this?"

Yaron smiled.

"You know I started carving wood as a hobby."

I nodded. Yaron had been doing it since the day we met and I asked him for a cane. To my surprise, he did do it and gave it to me some days later.

"I'm not particularly good at it, but I have been working on something for the past few weeks."

"I don't expect anything in return for my birthday." He looked at my short skirt, the one I had made myself from an old jacket of my father, and he smiled provocatively, running a finger around the rim of the fabric. "Or, almost nothing."

"We both agree we'll be together that night, so stop teasing me and give me my gift."

I snatched the gift from his hands.

"What is it?"

"Why don't you open it?"

"Because if I open it, it'll be over."

He looked at me without understanding.

"What?"

"This."

I placed a hand on my stomach and he finally understood. If I was addicted to anything, it was everything that made me feel alive and capable of achieving whatever I wanted.

"I won't let that end, Vee. Never."

I was dying to kiss him. A year of doing it and not a single day had gone by when he smiled and I didn't want to bite his smile.

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

I nervously tore off the wrapping paper and opened my mouth in surprise, when I found a small wooden pendant. It was made of two overlapping pieces, a "V" and a "Y".

"Yaron..." I whispered.

Yaron. My Yaron. The one who always smiled at me, supported me, cared for me, took me seriously, laughed when I had a hard time, and above all, loved me.

Two letters that shared our names and they were hidden in a geometric figure from the eyes of others.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it," I breathed out, adjusting it around my neck.

I didn't realize I was crying until the first tear fell on my lap. I launched myself into his arms and kissed him hard. Yaron tripped on the carpet. We both fell on the floor.

"I'm never taking it off."

"Not even when you're famous and a guest at the Oscars?"

"Not even then."

Another wet kiss and we fell onto the bed.

"What if they offer you to wear a gazillion-dollar diamond necklace?"

"I'll say no."

I smiled and licked his mouth.

"Not even when the most famous artist in the world wants to paint you naked?"

"The muse is the one who sets the rules, silly. I'll make it a requirement that he paint it between my tits."

"Will you take it with you when you leave?"

Yaron reached over and brushed my hair off from my face. I rarely combed my hair and the locks covered my cheekbones, but I liked it that way. Uncontrolled. A little wild.

We both knew we were running out of time, the love that was devouring us would have to face reality sooner than later. Lately, we lived in a constant countdown that began to hover over us too often.

Not yet, though.

"I will. I'll wear it until the day when I come back to you and beyond."

CHAPTER 15: VEE

"Girl, it's about time. Where's my tea?"

I snuck into Barnaby's kitchen and started boiling water.

It smelled musty, so I opened the windows. He coughed as soon as he felt the breeze, but he was only doing it to be annoying.

Looking back at those years, I didn't quite remember how our relationship developed. One day he was pointing a shotgun at me, as I had tried to take a can that looked abandoned at the entrance to his property, and the next day, I was sitting in his kitchen drinking tea while he told me about his life.

That first time, I was only nine years old. A lot had happened since then, but Barnaby was still the same white-haired, scrawny-bodied curmudgeon.

"Here you go." I poured him a steaming cup and noticed new boxes taped to the door. "Did you clean again?"

He nodded and popped a cookie into his mouth. "I found something for you."

I smiled, although Barnaby's gifts had stopped exciting me the way they used to. As a child, every discovery meant endless possibilities, but then, my priorities had changed. Or maybe, I was just tired of dreaming with a future that might never arrive.

"What is it? You know I've stopped making things up."

The sweetness in his eyes touched me. That surly old man loved me as much as I loved him, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"It's not that. I've checked the boys' rooms."

I felt a pang in my chest.

Barnaby almost never went upstairs. When he did, it was to exorcise his own demons. He had seven children, and he barely had any contact with a couple of them who rarely visited him. He was very lonely and imagining him searching the rooms of these boys with whom he had cut off almost all contact, made me angry and sad in equal measure. No parent deserves to die alone. Barnaby was terrified that one day, his heart would stop beating and no one would know until his body was covered in maggots.

"You should have told me," I reproached him.

"Why should I have? You're not my daughter, not my wife. Stop acting like one."

I shoved a biscuit into my tea so hard that I splashed out.

"Because scars hurt less when you're with someone," I spat at him, brazenly.

"I found something in Cade's room."

Barnaby handed me a piece of paper. It was a menu of sorts. On the back was the address of a coffee shop. This was something new. It wasn't a broken leg from an antique piece of furniture, or a fashion magazine from fifty years ago, or an empty perfume bottle.

"What is this?" I asked in fear, but a part of me already knew.

"My son Cade owns some of those franchises. I've talked to him." My eyes widened in surprise, because Cade wasn't one of those who kept in touch with his father. "He'll interview you when you're ready, but don't be afraid, it'll just be a formality."

I tried to find the words, but it wasn't easy. Barnaby never called his children, he was the proudest man I had ever met in my life. Just picking up the phone to do this was a big deal.

I looked at the menu between my fingers and realized what it meant-- what Barnaby was offering me. I had been wanting it for so many years that, once I was in front of it, it was hard to accept.

He had given me a job. A way out of the hole I was living in. It was a chance to start over. It was a dream materialized on a piece of paper.

"But... this... this is in Los Angeles."

He smiled. His bony, wrinkled hand met mine on the table. We had never touched before.

"That's right. It's an opportunity. For you. Happy birthday, Vee."

I looked up into his eyes not knowing what to say.

I was going to Los Angeles. I held him in my arms as if the world was about to end. In a way, it was.

Or maybe, I was just one step away from starting over.

CHAPTER 16: YARON

Three days later, we celebrated my birthday at my house with my family and Vee.

I had previously spoken with my family, and they agreed to a truce. They accepted my relationship with Vee, although they never made any attempts to include her in our family life. They had hoped our love story would end when I went to college.

It was the only gift I asked them for. Of course, I received many presents from my parents, sisters, and friends. But the best gift was the kind way everyone treated Vee.

Once everyone had gone home, I snuck out of my house to meet Vee at our special place in her back yard.

She was waiting for me under a blanket.

"Welcome, birthday boy. I have my present for you right here. But you have to unwrap it yourself."

I knelt at her side and undressed Vee with shaking hands. I removed her clothes, one by one, very slowly. I admired every inch of her bare skin, placing a kiss here and there, each time a new part of her body was revealed.

Then, she undressed me, and we lay naked on the bedspread, looking at each other.

"You're shaking," I said, resting my hand on her belly button.

"It's just the desire."

I laughed, but it wasn't a lie. I wasn't nervous. I was completely at ease with Vee.

I moved closer slowly and kissed her lips, as I had done so many times before. I lost myself in the kiss. It always happened to me. I closed my eyes, and everything disappeared. A bright, warm light enveloped us, a place free from Jewish parental demands or a gray and uncertain future without Vee.

A bright place where there were only two people-- Vee and me.

I caressed every inch of her skin with the tips of my fingers, barely touching her.

Vee moaned.

"Is this okay?" I asked.

"Very," she sighed, happily.

She turned her face into my chest and whispered, "I need you inside me, Yaron."

The first time I entered Vee, I knew that nothing could ever top it. And I'm not talking about pleasure. I'm talking about how when Vee and I had first made love, I had discovered that this is home. Two become one, as the Torah says.

We smiled like two fools in love, who had found their partner for life.

When Vee fell asleep with her head on my chest, I thought about the promises we had made to each other. We had made them too lightly, often without realizing it.

Love... Forever... My head analyzed the words. They were powerful. They contained much more than what met the eye.

Two hours later, when I quietly slipped away so as not to wake her, and returned to my house, a new insecurity had settled inside me. Because I could give Vee all the emotions she wanted, but what would happen when I left for Harvard? Who would provide her with the constant vertigo she needed?

What would happen when Vee would leave to pursue her dreams in Los Angeles? What would she choose when she had to make decisions?

Not me. I was positive about that. Her dreams would always come first. And even though I didn't know when that moment would come, I was already starting to go crazy.

Dreaming was free and easy, people spent their lives doing it. A house, a family, a great job, and a fairytale love that ended up being reciprocated.

I dreamed about Vee and me, despite having her by my side. Because, although we were in a bubble hidden from real life, I knew that the future would catch up with us and would make us different. Perhaps, we wouldn't fit together anymore.

Things were happening too fast, and the countdown in my head kept ticking.

Tick-tock.

Tick-tock.

CHAPTER 17: VEE

I had always believed that loyalty was a very animalistic feeling. It was not learned; it would just spring up, like a deep root that was impossible to pull out.

And I was loyal to Yaron.

But he was leaving for college, and the time to pursue my dreams had finally arrived.

I had to leave. I had to take my dreams and leave. I would have everything. Because everything was what I deserved. I had spent my whole life fantasizing about it; crossing off days on an imaginary calendar; living the future in my head, while ignoring the present.

I would find a place where I could be whatever I wanted, and others would appreciate it. I would be loved and admired. I would live in a brand-new home, where everything would work. The fridge would never be empty. I would own fancy designer clothes. My father would always have the care he desperately needed.

However, I hadn't taken into account that my path could cross with another. Much less with someone like Yaron.

The first time I saw him, I knew we would be friends. That blond boy with sky blue eyes became part of my world. And I fell in love with him.

I discovered that I was in love with Yaron one winter afternoon. He hadn't kissed me yet. It would still be a long way off, but he had taken me to the Christmas market and bought me some candy.

We were walking through the stalls, and then he stopped. He turned, looked at me, and touched the tip of my nose.

"Snow?" I asked.

He shook his head and put his finger to his mouth.

"Sugar."

He smiled, and I felt it. Inside. My heart was pressing my ribs and turning my stomach inside out. I had to hold on to his arm to keep from falling.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I got a little dizzy."

Yaron told me off for eating too much. Then we continued to wander around the Christmas market, laughing about silly things and killing time before going home.

It didn't go away until I was alone in my room that afternoon. That day, I knew I was in love with him. The feeling only grew stronger and stronger.

The fact that I loved Yaron, made my plans more complicated. The fact that he loved me, changed everything.

However, what would you do when the person you loved the most was the only one who could stop you from achieving your dreams? You would close your eyes and pray that you would never have to choose. You would keep dreaming, ignoring that you were running out of time.

I had to go. Even if it hurt.

I had to.

And it sucked.

The door opened, and I jumped up. There he was. His clear gaze searching for mine.

"Yaron!"

I ran to him, and he buried me in his arms. Nothing bad ever happened in there. I breathed against the wool of his sweater.

When I looked up, he ran his fingers over my cheek and whispered with concern.

"What's wrong, Vee?"

"You're going to college."

He nodded, still watching me, and then he fixed his eyes on mine, in a hidden place that no one else was able to see, but he could. Not always. Sometimes, I managed to fool him, but when I let my guard down, he was cunning.

"But there is more. Isn't there?"

"I'm leaving, too." And then I told him what Barnaby had done for me. I had a chance to go to Los Angeles with a job waiting for me. It didn't seem like much, and it didn't even have to go well, but it was what I needed. A push. A chance.

"How do you feel about it?"

Yaron looked at my face and held it in his hands. The feelings of loss inside me were stronger than ever. I was going to be alone. On my own. I was scared.

"I'm fine."

He closed his eyes for a second, just enough to accept that I had lied to him, and I promised myself I wouldn't do it again.

"Don't lie to me, Evangeline. Don't ever lie to me. Do you hear me?"

My eyes were filled with tears. That was the first time he had called me Evangeline. I knew why.

"Everything is wrong, Yaron."

He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me towards him.

"I know, Vee."

I rested my head on his shoulder, and we stood like this until it got dark.

CHAPTER 18: YARON

It's not every day that your heart gets broken. We walked aimlessly. I could hear Vee talking about her plans in the background, like the trees moving in the wind or the sound of some birds, but for the first time, I wasn't listening to her. I didn't want to.

I looked at her, waiting for a signal to jump in and ask her to stay.

"Are you listening to me, Yaron?"

I blinked and looked at her. She looked gorgeous. So gorgeous that I hated her for coming into my life, only to leave years later.

"I'll talk to my father."

"What?"

I grabbed onto the only possibility I found, not realizing that with every passing second, Vee was opening her eyes to a dark version of Yaron, who had never wanted her to get what she wanted.

Not if it meant losing her.

"I can ask my father to give you a job."

Her hand slipped from mine, and she looked at me as if I were a stranger. After all, that was what I was to her at that moment.

"What the hell are you saying?"

I ran my hands over my face and begged.

"Please, don't go. You don't have to. Especially not for a crappy job."

"I'm sorry I don't have a father who owns a building company and can pay for the best college. I'm sorry I'm not a straight-A student who was accepted into every university he sent an application to," she spat at me, without hiding her anger. "I'm sorry all I have is a drunk father, instead of the perfect family who loves me and supports me."

Her words felt like a slap in the face. She turned around and walked away from me.

I followed her. "Vee, you don't have to leave everything to go to Los Angeles to clean tables. That's not success. That's clinging to a stupid dream."

She stopped, turned around, and looked at me with eyes full of pain.

I covered my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that."

Vee swallowed and it happened. She looked at me like she had never looked at me before. She put on the armor she used to face the rest of the world.

"Yes, you did."

"Vee..."

She ran off, and I dropped to the ground. I let myself be carried away by the fear of losing her.

I headed to her house and entered without thinking about what I wanted to say or do.

Her father was dozing on the couch. He was wearing an old hat. I looked at him for a few seconds before slamming the door shut so the slam would wake him. He jumped and sat up.

"Mr. Beilinson..." Vee's father blinked a few times and focused his eyes on me.

"She is leaving," my voice cracked.

He sighed and nodded. His gaze was lost in the distance. He didn't seem sad, nor happy. He looked... calm. Resigned.

"She'll be fine."

"How can you be so calm? How can you let her just leave? You can't let her go! You're her father; it's your duty to prevent her from doing stupid things like this."

He picked up the bottle that was resting on the floor and took a long drink. Then, he handed it to me. The burn of the whiskey turned my stomach, but I didn't stop; maybe the alcohol would dissolve what the giant black hole that was swallowing my whole world.

Love hurt. I didn't get what it meant until that moment.

I sat on the floor. A bird chirped somewhere.

Then, he spoke, and showed me that, in spite of everything, he was still a father.

"Love is about respecting the dreams and freedom of others. I may not have been the best father in the world, but I love my daughter. Never doubt that, Yaron Beilinson."

I knew I had completely screwed up. I turned, and there was Vee.

She had heard it all. My pleas. My reproaches. My pain.

She said nothing. She didn't need to.

I followed her into her bedroom. It was messier than ever. I quickly realized it was because Vee had started getting rid of everything she didn't care about and sorting out what she wanted to take with her.

What was my place in all this? I guess I was about to find out.

She sat down on her bed, and I felt her more distant than ever.

"I thought you believed in me."

I closed my eyes and accepted her complaint. I deserved no less. However, there was no time for half-truths anymore.

"I believe in you. But I also believe in us. I don't want to lose you."

I probably sounded pathetic, but I didn't dare. The silence became thick. The room smelled of disappointment, of my anger, of the fear we both felt that our relationship would end like this.

She raised her hand, and her scar shone.

"I've never told you how I got it."

"Vee, you don't..."

"It was December. I remember because through the window at home I could see the neighbors' Christmas lights. Our house was the only one that wasn't decorated. I waited for Dad all afternoon, but he didn't come back. He'd been doing that a lot. He'd go out very early and show up when I thought he wouldn't and I'd have to call the police. I decided to make dinner. It wasn't the first time. I was six years old, but I already knew how to cook a roast much better than most adults. However, there was not much, so I decided on some eggs. I put the oil to heat and, the moment I cracked the first shell with the edge of the pan, I heard the door. His footsteps. He was drunk."

I nodded, inviting Vee to go on, my heart hammering in my chest.

"He loved fried eggs so I kept cooking. However, he was not alone. A woman's laugh crept into the house. I smiled. You know, back then I believed in fairy tales. I fantasized that one day one of those women with an easy laugh and a thick perfume would become my mother. I suppose I don't need to explain to you that this never happened."

I looked at her tenderly. She didn't need to say anything, I sat at her side, our bodies touched, always magnetized to each other. I opened my arms, and she leaned on my chest.

For a brief moment, the black hole of pain stopped swallowing me, and the world made sense again.

"Dad came into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and searched through it while the oil sizzled in the pan. He cursed under his breath, when he dropped a carton of milk and it smashed on the floor. 'Are you okay, Dad?' He turned at the sound of my voice, as if he had forgotten that I existed; that his six-year-old daughter was waiting for him at home. Alone."

I hugged Vee tightly.

"He slipped on the milk and lunged at me. He tried to grab onto something to keep from falling and reached for the handle of the frying pan."

Vee trembled. I closed my eyes to control everything I was feeling at that moment. I started to cry.

"When your skin burns, it's like millions of needles sticking inside you until they touch the bone. That's what you feel. The hurt is so intense that you want to die, Yaron. I can't explain it any other way."

I grabbed her hand and intertwined it with mine. I caressed that roughness that would always be part of her. I brought it to my mouth and kissed it. I hated her father so much at that moment that I could have killed him.

"You don't get what I'm trying to say. The good thing about intense pain is that it doesn't last forever. At least, not in the same way. It fades away. It becomes something else."

Vee turned and stroked my cheek tenderly. She ran her fingers over my eyelids, over my nose, and ended up on my lips.

She was proving to me, once again, how strong she was and how weak I looked next to her.

And not only that, but also that she was right. She had to leave.

"I fainted, of course. When I opened my eyes, a woman was cleaning my wound. She also gave me a painkiller and explained to me how to clean myself every day so it wouldn't get infected."

"How did you get there?"

"The woman Dad brought home had taken me to the E. R."

"And your father?"

Vee laughed sadly.

"He was so drunk that he was still on the kitchen floor. The next day, he didn't remember what had happened, so I told him I had burned myself making dinner and we never talked about it again."

"But your wound..."

It was impossible for Luke not to know. It was unthinkable that he didn't wonder every second of his existence what had happened to his daughter's hand.

Vee looked at me and I saw a pain so deep in her eyes that I didn't know how she managed to hide it every day.

"Do you think he didn't carry his own scar that night? You can't see it, but it's surely worse than mine."

Accident or not, Luke Hart was responsible for that six-year-old girl, who had been forced to grow up too fast.

"He deserves it. Your father deserves to live with this hurt. To drown himself in a bottle every time he looks at you," I blurted out, still in tears.

To my surprise, Vee nodded. Then she lost herself in her memories again with a soft smile.

"I never saw that woman again. I would have liked to thank her for what she did. But before she left, she told me something that marked me forever. She told me that this life was not for me, that I should never believe otherwise. That I was destined for great things. That no one, not even a drunk father or an ugly scar, could ever stop me. Only myself."

Her voice broke. I gritted my teeth. I hugged her, hid my face in her neck, and asked for forgiveness until she said that she loved me.

CHAPTER 19: YARON

When I got home, I found my mother sitting in the armchair in the living room. She was knitting a sweater. She looked up at me, but said nothing.

"She's leaving," I said. I was sure she could hear the pain and defeat in my voice.

She sighed and pressed her lips into a tight line. I noticed more wrinkles on her face than I remembered.

"You knew she would one day, Yaron."

I smiled half-heartedly. I did know, I always had, but a part of me clung to the hope that it wouldn't happen. Deep down, I thought our relationship would make her change her mind. That being together would become her new dream.

"I don't know what to do. I don't want to lose her."

My mother nodded slowly and continued knitting. I liked watching her fingers, moving the needles with such precision.

"You can't do anything, Yaron. It's her decision to make, not yours."

"I could make her change her mind."

"Do you really want to crush that girl's dreams just to keep her with you?"

"No... I can't do that," I admitted, defeated. Vee's dreams were what had kept her going through her hellish life with a smile and her spirit intact.

Mom smiled and gave me a short nod of approval.

"So, I do nothing...?"

"You support her and you are there for her if she needs you. That's what true friends do."

I opened my mouth, but Mom continued, "It will hurt for a long while. I know. But then time will pass and it'll hurt less. Then, you'll meet another girl and she'll become a distant memory. That's life."

My mother's voice was sweet, carrying the weight of wisdom from someone who had lived a lot, and knew love was more complicated than we often believe.

"What if...?" I swallowed. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't dare say them aloud. I wasn't that brave.

"What if you go with her?" Her fingers trembled for a moment before she continued knitting.

I nodded. "Just for a while. To make sure she's okay. Maybe it'll work. Maybe that's what we both need."

Mom sighed and laid the needles on her lap. She took off her glasses and looked at me, her eyes filled with tenderness. She had always been an expert at hiding fear.

"What would you do there, Yaron? What about your dreams?"

I didn't care about any of those questions, as long as Vee was with me. I was terrified she would meet someone else and stop loving me.

But Mom was right. Vee had made her choice--a choice for a better future, a dream that didn't include me. She wasn't leaving because she didn't love me. She was leaving because she had chosen what was best for her.

Right then, it was my turn to be brave and do the same.

I didn't know if my mother could see the mess I was drowning in through my eyes. I didn't know if her question was a coincidence or premeditated. All I knew was that her words helped me get back on my feet and face reality.

"Has she ever asked you?"

I blinked and looked away. No, Vee hadn't. Not once had she asked me to go with her. We hadn't made any pledges or commitments, and I knew why. She didn't want me there because she was willing to do anything to become rich and famous. That had always been her goal.

"Thanks, Mom."

"It's okay to feel heartbroken, Yaron. But, believe me, it will pass. Everything does. At most, it will leave a scar and make you wiser for your next relationship."

I tried to believe her, but at that moment, all I felt was pain.

The next day, I went to the travel agency and bought Vee a plane ticket.

CHAPTER 20: VEE

I went down the stairs and found that I was alone. There was no trace of my father. It wasn't strange, and I didn't care, either. He had long since forgotten that life is ruled by a calendar. I drank a glass of water and skipped breakfast; my stomach was upset.

I had finally found some light. Barnaby had shown me a way out of my present life. He was a good man beneath his grumpy-old-man disguise.

The only downside was leaving Yaron. I never thought I would fall in love--it wasn't in my plans. I loved him the only way I knew how to love-- completely and without reservations, for everything he was, and even the things I didn't like. Because there were those, too.

He loved me the same way. I knew it. I felt it, despite my madness, my impulses, and the oddities he didn't always understand.

But life didn't revolve around love. Life was much more than that. Life was personal fulfillment. It was risk. It was falling and getting up a thousand times. It was about finding out who you were and who you weren't. It was about becoming your own person.

Yaron and I loved each other deeply, but I had to find a way to fill the emptiness inside me. One that didn't depend on Yaron. I couldn't use him to "complete me." I refused to depend on him. That was codependency, not love. I'd learned that concept from a movie.

I didn't want to let Yaron go. The thought twisted in my chest--a pang of regret before I'd even taken a single step toward that decision. But I knew--had always known, perhaps--that no matter how much love there was between us, I couldn't stay tethered to him if it meant losing sight of myself.

I used to think love was enough, that it could bridge all the gaps, fill all of the cracks. But the deeper I sank into this relationship, the more I realized that love was only one piece of the puzzle. It couldn't carry the weight of my unresolved fears, my unmet dreams, or the heavy silences that filled my mind when I was alone. I had to carry those on my own.

No amount of affection or comfort from Yaron could replace the work I needed to do on myself. I needed space--a chance to find myself.

Leaving Yaron would hurt, but staying could mean losing myself entirely. And I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let that happen.

So, that day, when I went out to look for Yaron and we met halfway between his house and mine, I smiled. That coincidence showed me once again that we would always meet. But I also accepted that this was going to be the hardest thing I would ever do in my entire life.

"I have something for you, Vee."

I bit my lip and couldn't hold back. I threw myself against his chest and hugged him. When we separated, we walked to a park and sat down.

I took a deep breath and prepared to say goodbye.

"I've only been sure of two things in my entire life. The first is that I have to go, Yaron."

He nodded, his hand squeezing mine tightly.

"And the second?"

"I love you." My voice shook. My body, too. My heart was in a knot.

Yaron tilted his face and smiled. And that smile wasn't filled with hurt or doubt. It was the smile of the boy who knew that I loved him, but also knew I had to leave.

"I love you, too."

He pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to me. The usual tickle settled in my gut. I opened it and felt uncontrollable tears on my cheeks.

"Yaron... This is too much."

I looked at the plane ticket between my fingers and laughed. Because love is like that--warm, generous, unexpected, even if it gets cloudy sometimes. He was letting me go and encouraging me to dream as big as I dared.

"It's just a reservation. You'll have to come with me to finalize everything."

I looked at the price and tensed. It was excessive.

"I can't accept this."

"Yes, you can." Yaron grabbed my chin to make me look at him and left a sweet kiss on my nose. "And you must."

I sighed. To hell with formalities. Screw regrets, the morally acceptable, and the reluctance to accept favors. Screw everything. I was going to Los Angeles.

I had to try. And one day, I would return. I would come back with good memories, a bunch of presents for Barnaby and my father, and a filled void and healed heart to give to Yaron.

I pressed my forehead against his. "Thank you."

"Everything will be okay, Vee. Don't ask me how, but I know it."

I smiled.

"I'll call you every day, and I'll think about you every night," I said. "I'll come back for you, Yaron."

I kissed him with passion, with desperation, letting him know how much he meant to me.

Yaron and me. It was possible. We were going to make it work.

++0++

When I came home, my father was waiting for me. I quickly noticed something different about him.

"You're not drunk."

He smiled sadly, and nodded. I couldn't remember the last time we had a moment like this--real, just the two of us, without anything in the way.

"I don't think I'll last long without reaching for a bottle, but I wanted to tell you this while it's still me."

His voice trembled, and I hugged myself, despite the warmth of the fire.

"I haven't been the father you needed. Actually, I haven't been a father at all --just a burden. I've always known that, and I accepted it because it was easier than fighting for you to have the life you deserved.

"But you're smart, strong, and brave. You're capable of anything, Vee, and that's why you have to leave without looking back."

He placed a wad of bills, tied with a rubber band, on the table. We barely had any money. Dad lived on state aid or worked odd jobs, and between that and what I earned helping Barnaby with his garden, or running errands for Mrs. Hudson, we got by. My own savings had taken years to scrape together and wasn't much, but the money on the table nearly doubled it.

"What's that?"

"I've been saving. I also sold my watch and a couple of your mother's jewels. It's not much, but I'd feel better knowing you have something to fall back on."

I searched for words, then sighed, feeling a flicker of hope settle in. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe everything would be okay.

"Thanks, Dad."

"You'll make it."

"I know."

We laughed, but it wasn't a lie. I would make it. I had risked too much not to.

END OF PART 1