“Is Wes here yet?” Kensie whispered to me while her class danced on a tiny stage in the gym. Tonight was the reopening of the youth center, and although Wes and I originally planned to come together, I didn’t question him when he said he’d be late because he wanted to go see Blue. Whatever he needed to do to make sure Blue was okay and to help himself be okay, I supported him in.

“Not yet,” I whispered doing a quick sweep of the crowd filled mostly by community members and kids who used the center.

“All right, girls!” Kensie shouted to the stage when the dance ended. The crowd clapped and dispersed to the tables set up at the back of the room with refreshments. I made my way out to the waiting room at the front entrance smiling and saying hello to strangers along the way still scanning the room for Wes.

Then I found him, looking entirely larger than life sitting on a small chair in a darkened corner of the waiting room. Alone. He held his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He was still and silent while the gym just feet behind us roared with life and laughter.

“Wes,” I said quietly so I wouldn’t spook him, but I moved toward him quickly. I wanted nothing more than to comfort him. His head moved up unhurriedly, but when his eyes caught up and saw me, he jumped from the chair to his feet.

“Hey.” His heavy exhale was obvious behind the pep in his voice. His arm reached out to me, and he caught my hand in his.

“How long have you been here?” I asked looking at him from under his lowered lashes.

“Just got here,” he said with a gentle shake of his head.

“You doing okay?” I lightly squeezed his hand.

His eyes lifted to mine. The anguish painted across them startled my heart.

Then he blinked and smirked. “Save some for me, baby.” His eyes flicked to my hand over my chest gripping fingers into my skin. “I want a handful later.” Then he kissed me on the cheek and strutted past me. Not good.

Overall, the reopening was a success. Shortly after Wes showed up, August presented the mural in front of the crowd drawing far more attention to myself than I would have liked.

I’d barely spoken to Wes since we came back into the gym. He occupied himself by bouncing around the room, bringing smiles and laughter to the people who were here. His cheerful facade didn’t fool me. He was hurting.

I watched him when he approached an older couple. Instead of shaking hands, he gave each one a hug, and his energetic dispositions settled. Then I saw Ridge approach the trio. He saw me from across the room and waved his hand in the air. “Miss Capri!” he shouted, earning himself a pathway of stares and knock in the head from Wes. I laughed and made my way over.

“Miss Capri. These are my foster parents,” Ridge said practically bouncing on his toes. “And as of Monday, they’ll be my real parents,” he beamed.

“Seriously?” I asked, and he nodded eagerly.

“Well, we’ve always considered ourselves his parents.” His mom leaned in to give me a hug. “But it will be legal on Monday.”

“That’s amazing news. Congratulations and good luck.” I scrunched my nose up.

“Oh, c’mon.” Ridge laughed. “I’m not that bad.”

“I don’t know. Do they know about your toe fetish? Or how about your lactose intolerance? That shit gets messy from time to time right, man?” Wes socked Ridge in the shoulder.

“Takes one to know one right, Ridge?” I winked at him earning a heartfelt chuckle from Wes.

“You may have met your match.” Ridge’s dad laughed sticking out his hand to me. “I’m Dan.”

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled, but more for the man standing next to me who seemed to be honestly enjoying himself for the first time all night.

“She’s pretty special,” Wes said, causing my heart to flutter. “Don’t know what she’s doing with a loser like me,” he added, breaking my heart’s wings. “She’ll realize soon enough that she can do better.”

“I’ve been saying that for twenty years.” Dan laughed missing the enormity of Wes’ words. Then again, he probably didn’t see the way his eyes cringed when he spit them out or how they were clouded over now.

“Don’t say that,” I whispered to him, but he ignored me looking over my head.

“I’m gonna go find August,” he said to Ridge’s family, “I’ll catch you guys on your way out.” He touched the tip of my elbow with his hand on his way past me.

“We were so lucky to have met him.” Ridge’s mom smiled watching him greet my brother. “He’s helped Ridge so much with the things we try to understand, but just never will.”

“You do great, Ma.” Ridge leaned in kissing her on the cheek.

“He’s great at that,” I said. “Being there for anyone and everyone.” It was letting others be there for him that he couldn’t seem to do. He could avoid me all he wanted; I’d still be here when he realized he needed me.

The last time I was here, I panicked. This time, I was anxious in a different way. Stepping into the gallery had my heartbeat pumping for possibility instead of insecurity. I had to admit it was a nice change, and one that told me I was ready to be here and ready for this opportunity.

With a little time to spare, I took a couple of minutes to walk through some of the exhibits. I stopped at one particular piece that immediately grabbed my attention. It was a mermaid, but instead of a clear painting, it was done so that it looked as though she was just under the surface of the water. Her form was visible, but her features were blurred and skewed below the ripples.

The title below the painting was “Trapped.” I disagreed. Though she hovered there below the water line, she looked as though she was about to burst free. Instead of seeing a woman imprisoned, I saw a woman swimming from the depths to the surface. She was breathtaking.

“Can I help you?” a guy around my age said looking every bit of a hipster peeked from around the small partition wall separating the artwork from the office.

“I’m here for a meeting with Bia at eleven thirty,” I said feeling my folder bend in my grip and turned around to meet him.

“Rad. I’ll let her know you’re here.” He disappeared just as quickly as he’d shown up.

“Thanks.” I smiled standing off to the side of the tiny waiting room at the gallery as he floated down the hall.

I woke up this morning and saw the missed call from the gallery curator, Bia. I’d sent them an inquiry just three days ago about possibly putting some of my stuff on display. I was shocked to hear back so soon, or at all.

I pulled out my phone, quickly pretending to turn it off, not like anyone was in the room with me to see. I guess I was pretending for myself because really I was checking to see if Wes had texted.

He and August went out after the reopening last night for a beer together, and I foolishly waited for him to text me, falling asleep on my parents’ couch at some point. I awoke in the middle of the night without a word from Wes and texted to see how he was with no answer. Then, I spent the rest of the night and early morning trying to sleep through the pit in my stomach.

“Capri?” hipster dude said, coming back in the room. “Go on in. It’s the room that’s not the loo.” He smiled sitting back down at his desk.

“Thank you,” I said making my way to the room that was not the loo. The door was open, but I knocked before going in.

“Come on in,” a voice chimed. I peeked around the door first, and my body followed. “Capri.” Bia smiled, tying a knot in the scarf around her hair. She came around her desk to shake my hand.