It only took a couple weeks for them to establish some sort of routine. She would usually start before Zeke, spending a good part of her day in the graveyard cleaning stones and crossing them off the map one by one. If they were potential matches, she'd mark them on the map in red so she could look more into it later. And in the late afternoon, Zeke would meet up with her at the graveyard, and she'd show him all her progress. More names crossed off the list. Getting closer and closer to answers every day. He was always so appreciative that she was doing this for him. But he didn't understand. She wasn't really doing it for him. This project was breathing life back into her. And he didn't need to know that, after they'd part ways for the night, she'd stay up late sketching pictures of gravestones covered with flowers and stuffed animals and cards. She was so inspired by the gifts life would leave to death. And before long, her grandma's old studio was covered in paintings and sketches of gravestones. Her fingers were stained with gray and green paint, but she didn't care.

It had started with a before and after picture, which was something Emersyn loved to do as she cleaned the headstones. She would take a picture of it covered in filth, clean it, and then take a final picture of the stone when it looked like new. But one day, a couple weeks into the routine, she saw something in one of the pictures she hadn't seen before. A certain light shining on a teddy bear in a military uniform that sparked something inside of her. She stared at the picture for a long time, unable to take her eyes off the glow of the bear in the white uniform as it rested against the hard gray stone. For a while, she debated on whether or not to show the picture to Zeke when he met up with her in the graveyard in the late afternoon. But there was just something about it. Something magical. She didn't want to share it with anyone else.

The next day, she felt the same magic as she stared at a picture of a stone surrounded by beautiful fresh lilies. And then again when she noticed how the sun reflected against a penny someone had placed on top of another stone. It was fascinating, and really quite lovely. She took picture after picture of the gravestones, and after obsessing over them for several nights as she lay in bed staring at her camera gallery on her phone before falling asleep, she finally decided to pick up a pen and begin sketching. That was just a few weeks ago, and already she had a studio full of drawings and paintings of gravestones. She didn't know why this particular idea called to her, but she knew painting the stones onto the blank canvases was what she was meant to do.

But still, she was afraid to show her artwork to anyone. Afraid they wouldn't see what she saw. Scared they wouldn't be able to see the beauty in the gray, lifeless stones. She, on the other hand, was becoming more and more obsessed as the days went by. Some nights she'd stay up until three in the morning working. Until she was practically falling asleep with a coated paintbrush in her hand. Losing consciousness standing up. And then she'd crash in her day clothes, not even bothering enough to change into pajamas or wash her hands. Her bedding had spots of gray and white paint on them, and she knew they wouldn't come clean in the wash. But the spots were just reminders for her. And she'd get up in the morning and start the day over again.

"You look tired," Avery said one afternoon, as pistachio ice cream melted off the cone and onto her fingers like a clock from The Persistence of Memory painting by Salvador Dali. "You must be working on something."

This was the bad part about having friends who'd known you your whole life. They literally knew everything about you. All your quirky habits and eccentricities that you tried to hide from everyone else they could read like an open book. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to dismiss this. But they knew better. "Are you going to show us?" Axel asked, having already finished his ice cream, a very light hint of chocolate still coating his top lip.

She bit her lip nervously, that same old fear and anxiety rising to the surface. She'd never been insecure about her art before. But this was different. Most people would think what she was doing was morbid. Some might even think it was unethical. It wasn't like she was getting permission from the families to paint their loved one's gravestones. But still, she couldn't stop. She had to capture the breathtaking beauty of it. It was like there was an insatiable creature living inside of her that was only calm when she was painting. The canvas was its body, and the acrylics was its blood, and it wouldn't rest until it was covered.

"I don't think you'll like it," she said simply, too tired to lie to them. Avery rolled her eyes, and she knew she was probably thinking she was being overdramatic. But she didn't understand. "No, I mean it. It's... well, it's weird. I don't know. I'm not ready to share it yet."

Axel nodded his head, and she knew he would get it. Avery may have given up on her artistic pursuits, but Axel still walked around with a pen in his ear and a small notepad in his pocket in case inspiration for his music hit him. "Can't share what isn't finished," he said, and she smiled in agreement. But what was done was done. And it was incredible to her. But she wouldn't be able to stand it if her friends saw her work and hated it. Or thought it was too creepy or morbid. It would break her heart.

"Any luck on the job hunt?" Avery asked, deciding it was probably best to drop the subject of her art for now. But she didn't know this was another topic Emersyn didn't want to discuss. No, she'd had no luck on the job hunt. Because she wasn't looking. She was too busy with the graveyard and the paintings and everything else she was doing. Sure, none of it was making her money. But there was enough money in her grandma and grandpa's estate to keep her going for a long time. And she did promise Kiel she would find a job before summer began. So she still had a few weeks.

She shook her head. "I'm actually not looking right now," she said. Avery opened her mouth to speak, but she cut her off before she could. "I know. I can't live off my inheritance. I've already had this talk with Kiel numerous times. And I promised him I'd find something by the beginning of summer. I'm just so caught up in helping Zeke with his family thing, and then working on my new collection."

Axel smirked, as if he knew some big secret no one else did. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he answered her unasked question. "You've been spending a lot of time with this Zeke character, you know. You'd think at some point you'd introduce him to your best friends."

She knew exactly where he was going with this. "No, it's not like that." He made a face at her, and she scoffed. "What? It's not! Zeke and I are just friends. That's all. And besides, it's not like the graveyard is the most romantic location for dates."

"Oh, so they're dates now?" Avery asked, and she hated how teasing her best friends sounded. They had no idea what was actually going on.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Emersyn insisted, trying to fight the heat that was slowly spreading across her freckled cheeks. "Really. We are just friends. And I just want to help him, you know? He doesn't know who his dad is, and if I can help him get closer to his family, then I'm going to."

The smiles wiped off their faces, and she knew what they were thinking. That this all hit a little close to home. Emersyn had never known her dad either. He'd died when she was three, and her mom had abandoned her after that. She'd been raised by her grandparents, who were both gone now. The only family she had left in the world she wasn't speaking to. So yeah, maybe there was something personal about it. But was that so wrong? She didn't think so.

"I think what you're doing for him is awesome, Em," Avery said, wiping her sticky hand with an already ice cream coated napkin. "Really. And I think your grandparents would've thought so too. Just promise us that, before you end up hooking up with this Zeke guy, you'll introduce your best friends to him? I mean, we have to give him the seal of approval, right?"

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. They didn't get it. It wasn't like that. There wasn't anything romantic about what she was doing with Zeke. Other than her collection and her drive to help him connect with some family, she enjoyed hanging out with him. They had a good time doing nothing but just getting to know each other. Playing games like Would You Rather and Two Truths and a Lie, laughing at each other's answers as they scrubbed the weathered grime off the old headstones. Her desire to spend time with him had nothing to do with the fact that he was almost a foot taller than her. Or that his curly blonde hair sometimes stuck up like he was about to be struck by lightning. Or that his smile was like a ten thousand-watt lightbulb lighting up a room. Or that his eyes reminded her of the ocean on a sunny day. And sometimes the way his voice dragged at the end of his sentence would send the collection of butterflies in her stomach wild. She'd never met anyone with a southern accent, but his was fire to her soul.

It's just a crush, she told herself for the millionth time, because that's all it could be. Would be. Besides, it wasn't like he'd shown any interest in her. No advances. No moves of any kind. Just two friends talking about everything and nothing, ranging from random animal facts to art history. Spending hours together in the graveyard, their fingers wrinkled from the near constant exposure to soapy water as they ran soft bristled brushes against weathered stones.

She was always careful not to touch him. It wasn't like she didn't want to. But she was afraid of that warm shocking feeling she got when they brushed up against each other in the church. It felt too good for her to want to do it again, and so she was cautious around him. She didn't sit next to him in church again, as she was now an active member of the church choir. But even when she was standing up with her fellow singers, she would search for him in the small crowd, hoping he was watching her too. Sometimes she wondered if she wasn't the only one trying to be careful. He'd said, during one of their first meetings, that he was a hugger. But he'd only hugged her the one time, after that horrible phone call with her mom. A few times he'd moved in like he was going to, but then seemed to stop himself just in time. So part of her wondered if... maybe....

Stop it, Emersyn, she scolded herself as her mind began filling up with all the ways she would like him to touch her. You can't do this. Keep it platonic. Behave.

She touched him once, on accident. They'd both reached in the water filled bucket for the scrub brush at the same time. Classic movie moment. And she expected to feel electricity or a zing of some kind. Nothing like that happened. She just felt at ease. Calm. And sure, his laugh did give her butterflies sometimes. But she couldn't get over the fact that she didn't feel a spark when their skin touched. So sure, maybe she had a little crush. But it wasn't serious. He hadn't made any advances on her. It was all totally innocent. Platonic. Easy. And that was totally okay with her.

Right?

When Emersyn didn't mention Zeke again, Avery took the opportunity to bring up another uncomfortable subject. "Have you heard anything from your mom?" she asked, and Emersyn felt a sad sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She shook her head. "No. Not since...." Not since the call. Avery nodded, seemingly understanding what Emersyn was trying to say. And even though Emersyn would never admit it out loud to anyone, the fact that her mom hadn't bothered to try again after their fight killed her. It was like she was three years old all over again, and her mom had just re-exited her life. Maybe that was what was up with the new obsession with gravestones. Part of her felt like her last remaining family member had just died.

She thought a few times about calling her mom. About trying to reconcile. But that journal still sat under her pillow like a ball of fire, and every time she considered reaching out, it was like she could feel its flames licking her skin, searing her flesh away. She also thought about throwing away the old journal. That maybe it would be the first step to letting all the hurt go. But no matter how many times she tried, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Like it or not, those words came from her mother. And throwing them away felt like giving up. Emersyn wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet, no matter what she told everyone else.

"I'm sorry," Avery said, nudging her shoulder softly. Emersyn shrugged her shoulders and gave her a small smile, acting like she didn't care when she did. But, like before, her friends were able to see through it all. "We're here for you, Em. If you ever need to talk. You know that, right?"

She nodded her head, because yes, she did know that. But it wasn't always easy for her to talk about such things. Her mom had always been a touchy subject, no matter who was bringing her up. And now it felt like the wound that had scarred over after years of pain had just burst wide open all over again. She was bleeding heavily, and she wasn't sure if, or when, it would ever stop. "Thanks," she said to her friend, because she didn't know what else to say.

Axel ruffled her hair in that annoying older brotherly way he did whenever he could tell she was going through something. She always acted like she hated it, but deep down it brought her comfort. In her heart, she'd always yearned for a sibling. And when he did this, she felt like she had one. "We've got you, Emmy baby," he teased, and this brought a smile to her face. "Always."

She wrinkled her nose and pushed him away gently, but she loved him so much. Both him and Avery... she didn't know how she'd gone so long without seeing them. For so long she felt like she was in a world filled with nothing but dulled colors. But now, being back on the island, she felt like everything was becoming vibrant again. Warm. She loved being home. She just wished she didn't feel so alone. And despite what Avery, Axel, and even Kiel all tried to be, they couldn't quite replace what was missing in her life.

Her mom.

Chapter Twelve

0 Comments