Page 134 of The Trouble with Flings

My mind skips to Fitz watching his father work with the same adoration in his eyes as those girls and that woman have in theirs. I imagine our child sitting at Fitz’s desk doing homework across from him, and my heart warms. But my thoughts take a ninety-degree turn to Holden drawing on that bathroom stall.

“There’s the woman who’s carrying my favorite niece!” Keira says loudly.

I turn and see them at a table near the windows, waving. I head over, chalking up the happiness bubbling up inside me to that growing list of things that catch me off guard.

“Or another favorite nephew,” Jules says.

“No way,” Bellamy says. “It’s definitely a girl. I already picked out matching outfits.”

“You have? What if it’s not a girl?”

“I picked out boy clothes, too,” Bellamy says. “But it’s going to be a girl.”

“Is everyone more prepared for this baby than I am?”

“No. Bellamy just likes to shop. She did it with Stevie, too,” Jules informs me.

Keira pats the empty chair beside her. “Sit down and relax. I was five minutes away from sending out a search party.”

“Sorry I’m late,” I say as I sit between her and Daphne. “My meeting with Holden’s mom took much longer than I expected.”

“That’s okay. I was a little late, too.” Daphne slides a glass of ice water toward me. “We ordered calamari before Bellamy could start decorating your nursery or coming up with a brand for your baby.”

“I made mood boards for the nursery,” Bellamy says cheerfully.

“Give her a break, Bell,” Keira says. “Jen, how’d your meeting go?”

“Better than I expected. I learned a lot about what’s going on with Holden. They just moved here a few months ago from Boston, and it sounds like Holden hasn’t found his people yet. His mom is really stressed, and she feels guilty for moving him away from his friends, but she’s a single mom and wanted to be closer to her parents.”

“That must be hard for both of them,” Daphne says.

“If my parents did that to me at that age, I’d be furious,” Bellamy says.

“I know. It’s understandable, and his mom knows that,” I say. “She said Holden is a little awkward, and it takes him a while to make friends. He had a small group of friends in Boston, and they were all into art, like him, which makes the whole vandalism thing make sense. She showed me pictures of what he drew in the school bathroom. You have to see how talented he is.”

I pull out my phone, navigate to the images his mother shared with me, and pass it around, giving them a minute to look over the drawing. The wolf’s face took up nearly the entire stall door, all teeth and fury. Most kids scribbled disparaging accusations, curse words, or crude cartoons. This was different. What struck me wasn’t the anger. Teens carry anger around like spare change. It was the intricate details—the hateful eyes, the flaring snout, the exploding bricks around it, like it was breaking through a wall—the time Holden put into it. It wasn’t the work of a kid who didn’t give a shit. It was a cry for help from a kid who cared enough to be heard any way he could.

“Wow. That’s creepy, but he’s wicked talented,” Bellamy says.

Jules peers over her shoulder. “It is kind of scary with those fangs,” she says as Bellamy hands the phone to Keira.

“Holy shit.” Keira studies the pictures. “Was he in the bathroom all day?” She passes the phone to Daphne.

“I’d worry if my kid drew that,” Daphne says, handing me back the phone. “Is he in therapy? I feel like he could hurt someone.”

“Actually, he’s been in therapy for a few weeks. But I don’t think this is that. Not given his situation. I’ve dealt with a lot of angry kids, and he’s definitely angry, but underneath that, I think he’s hurting. I’m no psychologist, but I think he feels lost and like nobody hears what he’s saying. The thing is, they do hear him; they just don’t know how to help him. They’re not moving back to Boston, and when a kid acts out at school, they end up looking like a bad kid, which in a lot of cases, makes kids act worse.”

“You mean, like to earn the reputation?” Bellamy asks.

I nod. “Sometimes.”

“That makes sense,” Keira says.

“Poor kid,” Daphne murmurs.

“Yeah, but here’s the thing. I could be wrong. I have to meet with him and hear his side of it. The vandalism is bad, but the art is really good. The question is, does he know it’s good? Because there’s a difference between a kid who’s acting out and accidentally reveals talents versus one who knows exactly what he’s capable of and is desperate for someone to notice.”

“Whoa,” Jules says. “Is that what you think he’s doing?”