Page 78 of The Last Special Thing

She struggled to breathe. He was an anchor, and she let him pull her down to the ocean floor.

“I love you, Amelia. No one has ever believed in me until you.”

The Honey Cat bracelet hanging on her wrist confirmed it. She was his day one.

He leaned his forehead against hers. She forgot how broken he was. He kept it together, his pain wrapped tightly in positivity, silver linings, and optimism. It suffocated the messy truth of his past and what he allowed his present to be.

“It’s more than love,” Art said. “We’re twin flames. It will always be us.”

“Twin flames,” she repeated. The rare type of love that burned and danced.

She settled into his arms as they listened to the crashing waves in front of them, drowning out their sniffling. Crying together, the salt of their eyes and the sea were indistinguishable. It was more intimate, more raw than sex. Amelia had to come up with a plan for them. Whether he knew it or not, he needed her help. She was the one who believed in him, after all.

CHAPTER THIRTY

It was the day of the inaugural Honey Cat show, and Amelia had the same level of excitement for Art that she held for all of her plays. As such, she had the perfect day planned out, concluding with Art’s opening night and the two of them celebrating.

In the morning, she went to pilates. She honed in on her butt and thighs, the Adderall pushing her through the pain, and she lapped up the attention as Lauren used her as the example. The rug of unspoken conversations between them grew with each day.

She went to her nail appointment and chose Cherry Red as Art had requested.

“Seriously, check him out. He plays the drums.” Amelia slid her phone over, showing a photo of Art at band practice that she had taken the previous week.

Amy, her nail technician, nodded enthusiastically, “Like a rockstar!”

After her appointment, Amelia swung by the mall. She weaved around the crowds and meandered into all of her favorite stores: Dolce & Gabbana, Bottega Veneta, and John Varvatos. Kourtney Kardashian was her outfit inspiration. Sifting through the racks of clothes, her eyes fell to a black Dolce & Gabbana corset top with a sweetheart neckline. It was perfect. She smiled at the sales associate who rang her up and charged her parents’ card without checking the cost.

Amelia shoved the armful of shopping bags into her trunk, moving aside hers and Madisson's dusty hiking clothes, then got in the driver’s seat and blasted the Honey Cat demo. She tapped her nails against the steering wheel, eager to hear the songs live.

At home again, she changed into a striped bikini and settled onto the sun shelf of the pool. Tonight would be everything Art had been working toward, and she supported. After this show, he would book more gigs, and then it was only a matter of time before Honey Cat was discovered. Amelia daydreamed under the palm trees, sipping on water with a lemon, until it was time to do her hair and makeup.

—--

At dusk, Amelia slammed her car door shut and walked over to Art, who leaned against the wall smoking his vape.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Amelia grinned as she approached. The neon lights on the side of the building flickered, a few letters dark. It was iconic.

“Me either. This is insane.” His smile was infectious as he pocketed his vape.

He extended a hand out to her and pulled her against him. His kisses tasted of nicotine and whiskey. She wasn’t surprised he had already kicked off the party.

“You need to stop smoking.”

“After all we’ve done, smoking remains my biggest issue for you?” An amused smile on his lips.

“You could die!” Her eyes went wide.

“Princess.” He flashed a knowing smirk.

He was right, of course. There were plenty of other things that could get him killed, like dealing drugs. Her stomach twisted, and she changed the subject. They hadn't talked about it again. She believed him–it was temporary while he figured out the music. She needed to get him out of San Diego and toward his dreams.

“What if you came to L.A. with me?” She floated the idea to him.

“To your dorm?”

“What if we got our own place?”

“You want to move to L.A. together?” His face remained perplexed, with a half-smile frozen.