"I take back what I said the first time we met. I never could have been more wrong."
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"Every thing about you - every thing you do, or say, or even when you scrunch your nose when you don't really like something - just ma...
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I LET OUT A HEAVY BREATH. Looking around the dark and dingy walls, I tried to soak in every last thing I could: from the way that the wood smelled permanently wet to the low lighting that would make the room glow the most beautiful orange whenever I lit a fire. All of my clothes were shoved back into my canvas duffle, the bag looking a little bit strained with the few extra shirts that I had gotten while I was here. For the most part, they were Art's shirts he had planned on throwing out. But they had looked comfy, just the right amount of worn in and loved—what Art didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
My eyes caught my reflection in the mirror, and if I hadn't seen the gradual change, I would've been surprised in myself. My trademark Fork's complexion, the one that makes everyone resemble a ghost, was long gone. In its place was tanned skin that had been burnt plenty of times to last me the rest of my days. Some freckles decorated my shoulders and my face, showing how the sun had truly berated me in my six week stay. My hair too, which was currently in a messy bun that I had slapped together on the top of my head, was lighter than it had ever been. The dark color was littered with a variety of warmer, happier hues. I had also shed a little bit of body fat—not that I had needed to. Art's all natural diet had made me crave nothing more than a cheese burger with sweet potato fries and Burger 37 sauce, but it surely did keep my body leaner and healthier. Most of the muscles that lined my body had grown more defined, but I couldn't be all that surprised. Initially, I walked around like I had a stick up my ass because my legs, arms, and core had hurt so badly. While I was an "athlete" at Forks High, it was no secret that I half assed every bit of conditioning I was put through. But to Art, control began with a healthy body and a healthy mind; he could suck it though. I know he just enjoyed watching me gallop awkwardly around the farm since my body wouldn't let me do much else.
With a final glance at myself, then around the room, I slung my bag over my shoulder and walked out the house without a second glance back. The door clapped shut in the way that reminded me every morning of what I was about to get into. But today, I stepped into my car—something I hadn't done in over six weeks—and turned the ignition. I was half expecting a dead battery, but was pleasantly surprised when the old beauty grumbled to life beneath me.
I looked to the forest surrounding the cabin longingly, amazed that such beauty and purity could appear without any form of help or guidance. The world was so tainted now with cars, technology, and other improvements that only made people revert into themselves and lock their doors to stay inside. But as I watched the light refract and frolic among the leaves and trees I knew there was nothing I would have rather done in the past weeks.
My car jostled about as it bounded down the dirt road. I smiled, satisfied with the feeling of the worn-in leather under my legs. As I pulled into Art's driveway for what was shockingly only the second time, nostalgia hit me like a bus. For me, it was almost as if a different girl had pulled up to this house all that time ago. For the first time in my life, I felt like I could control myself and my surroundings better; I kept my emotions in better check. Of course, nothing was ever bulletproof. I still couldn't keep my mouth shut for shit and I rolled my eyes more than I blinked, but I had new perspectives.
So as I sat at Art's kitchen table for the last time, I didn't know what to say other than: "Thank you... for everything."
"I didn't do much, kid. I just bullied all of it out of you and into the open."
"Well then no one is as good a bully as you," I tease with a grin. And there was that chuckle. "Really, though. I was a fucking mess before I got here."
"Josephine, I hate to admit it, but you're still a fucking mess." I let out a heaving sigh and roll my eyes.
"Will you just accept my damn gratitude?" I ask, laughing in amazement. This man really was one of a kind. "You helped me, Art. Even if it was just to get away and decompress from all the unneeded noise in the world."
"What do you call him, then?" Art asks, pointing to Koda as he tries to play with some of the smaller horses outside of the window. They looked intrigued but weary; the scene made me smile.
"A necessary evil." Art chukles.
"A necessary evil," he agrees, looking down to his plate.
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Short, I know, sorry loves... I just didn't know what else to add...
xoxo.
p.s. sorry for the 800,000 notifications to thiss bullshit I'm calling a book...
I decided to ~r e m o d e l~
and it only has a little to do with procrastinating my chem lab work...
