I just grin, not sure what to say. It’s not my thanks to receive, but I can’t tell her that. By then I have to say goodbye, so I stand back as Levi leads her out of the office.
After a few seconds of staring at the closed door, I slump heavily back into my seat and go over the papers in my hands. I glance at each page, trying to find a dollar amount. It’s on the next page—I see it instantly.
Ten thousand dollars.
TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS.
Levi returns to find me gaping. Leaning against the arm of the chair across from me, he’s got his hands in his pockets, shoulders slightly shrugged, and he looks nervous. “Well?” he asks. His voice is soft, bordering intimate. “What do you think?”
“Levi.” When I stand up, my legs are a bit wobbly. I hand the paperwork to him. “I don’t know what to say.” I’m whispering because I may or may not be on the verge of tears, and I really (really, really, really, really) don’t want to cry in front of him.
His gives me a smile like he knows I’m on a precipice—like he knows he put me there. It’s like he’s experiencing the same level of emotion that I am, but he’s used to it, he can rein it in. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say, but it sounds more like a breath than a word. My mouth won’t move like I want it to. Why can’t I say the words that will tell him how badly I want to be a part of this? I know he already knows, to a certain extent. He made me a part of this, after all. But I want to say it. I want him to hear me say it.
He tips his head back. “Thanks for letting me show you. I thought you’d want to be in the loop from that first time I talked to you.”
I blink at him. I’m thinking about that first evening I met him, when he dazzled me with his charm. Which leads me to think about the other day, when he told me he thought I had a soft heart. Everything in me is warm except my words—those are frozen inside my mouth. Nothing I can say will compare with the compliments he’s given me, and the good he’s done here with The Color Project.
But, as it turns out, he doesn’t need my words. He gestures for me to follow him into the hall—where Missy surprises us, hands on her hips.
She is dazzling. And when I say dazzling, I mean even more than just her shoes. “Albert,” she seethes. “He threw glitter all over me because I called him a turd, and now it’s all over the mess that Nikita and Suhani left this morning.”
“Missy,” Levi says, placing his hands on her shoulders, “I don’t really feel bad for you. You unleashed the monster.”
“I DIDN’T MEAN TO. THE WORD JUST CAME OUT.” She isn’t just upset: she’s furious.
Levi’s smile is something mischievous. “I know. Just clean up the glitter and I’ll have Clary-Jane do the rest of the organizing on Friday. I’m coming back in thirty minutes. I want your checklist done.” He walks away, with me following close behind, and calls back over his shoulder, “And Missy? Freaking answer the phone when it rings. Remember what we talked about.”
We head out of the lobby and into the warm evening air. I pull out my keys, trying to figure out what to do (how to say goodbye).
“Do you want another donut?” Levi asks.
My heart thuds, a caged animal. I try to make my smile not-giddy. “So long as you don’t try to steal it.”
He laughs, stepping to the left so we can walk side by side.
I clear my throat. “So…am I going to meet them? The rest of the volunteers?”
We’re both facing ahead (studying the menu as if we’re not completely focused on each other) but I can feel his smile radiating off of him. “If you want.”
“Yeah, I do.” (Levi, you know I do.) “Good.”
We order and sit down at Peterson’s outdoor tables, our fingers already sticky with donut glaze. Levi passes me a napkin from across the table.
“So what about you?” he asks. “I’ve shown you all the things I like to do—now it’s your turn.”
Whatever I’d expected him to say, it wasn’t this. “Oh, um… You don’t want to hear about my boring life.”
“No, really. I do.”
I bite my lip. “I…I guess there’s not much. I just graduated high school. I’m taking a gap year. I told you about my job, right?”
He nods. “Florist’s assistant. Delivery girl.”
I grin. “Right. Well, now I’m also part-time designer.”
Levi raises one eyebrow. “That’s pretty rad.”
(I’m blushing.) “It’s been fun. She says I have a natural eye. My designs have turned out nice enough, I think, even though sometimes I can’t be sure if she’s just being nice or…what.” I shrug.
“You’ll get the hang of it,” Levi says. He looks me over, like staring at me is the most normal thing in the world. (I wish I could look at him with as much confidence.) “I’d love to see something you’ve made.”
“Yeah, I will.” I take a deep breath in, let it out, and give him my most confident smile. (I probably look ridiculous.) “Hey, I have a picture on my phone of something I made earlier. If you’d like to see.” I don’t know why I’m doing this—why I’m not nervous about showing him my designs—but I whip out my phone and… Panic rises. “Oh no. Shoot. My mom called me, like, seven times.”
He grimaces like he understands. “Do you need to call her back?”
“Yeah, probably.” I click on my mom’s name; she answers after one ring. “Hi Mama,” I say quietly. “Sorry, I forgot to text you.”
“Bee, where are you?” She doesn’t sound angry, just…weary. I think about her crying the other day and mentally kick myself for forgetting to tell her I wasn’t coming home after work.
I breathe out. “I’m sorry, I’m, um…I’m with a friend.” I glance up at Levi, only to get distracted by his delighted expression. I shake my head to clear it. “He works at Mike’s. He helped fix my car.”
“Oh, okay.”
I sigh at the disappointment in her voice. Thing You Should Know About Me #3493: I’ve never, ever—not even once—worried my mother with my activities outside the home. I’m the model child for punctuality and phone calls and check-in texts and safety. She probably thought I was dead in a ditch somewhere, because if I don’t alert her of my whereabouts, it means something’s awfully wrong. “I’m sorry I forgot to call. I’ll be home soon. I’m at an, erm, a charity organization.”
She makes a surprised noise. “What?”
“Can I tell you about it later? I need to say goodbye.”
Levi gets my hint and stands up. After tossing our empty wrappers and napkins in the trash, we take to the sidewalk.
My mom sounds much more relieved. “Sure, baby. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“No, I’m fine. Love you, Mama.”
“Love you, too.”
She hangs up. I give Levi an apologetic, I’m-so-embarrassed look, but he shakes his head, smiling. “You need to go,” he says. “I understand. I’ve had my fair share of worried-mom phone calls.”
I stop at my car, retrieving my keys from the bottom of my purse. “Thank you, Levi. This was so fun.”