The Color Project

I’m appalled, sick to my stomach—the same sensation as before I broke up with him. Like there’s unfinished business and I’m standing in the way of getting it done. I wrap my arms around my stomach. “What else?”


Keagan shrugs. “He started answering my texts, told me he was okay, he just needed some time to process, figure out what he was going to do next.” He rubs his cheek thoughtfully. “He throws himself into things wholeheartedly, and he thought you did, too, Bee. We all did. That’s why you guys were everything. What…what happened?”

I shrink back against the car door. I can’t blame the cancer, if only because of every conversation I had with Papa before he died—of him pushing me to go places, to be with Levi. No, this was entirely me and my fears.

“I don’t know,” I answer. And then, more honestly, “I got stuck.”

“On what?”

“On the idea that I wasn’t good enough for him.”

“You know that’s bullshit, right?”

I smile at him ruefully. “So people tell me.”

Keagan chuckles, but his expression grows serious again, too quickly. “You know there are certain things…he hasn’t told you. Right?”

I suck in a breath. “No.”

He shakes his head.

“Tell me this instant, Keagan!”

That’s all it takes, thank God. “His dad fought with him about something important, so Mr. Orville took the rent money out from under TCP. Then, about a week before you broke up with him, three sponsors pulled their monthly payments. He was waiting for the storm to pass, waiting for you guys to make up before he said anything.”

I bury my head in my hands. Levi wouldn’t have told me—not after how I reacted to him paying for Papa’s chemo. I would have been unjustly angry at him for making that sacrifice, when that’s all TCP is: sacrifice. “This is so stupid,” I mutter. (I’m once again thinking of ways I could successfully murder AuGUStus!) “Bee,” Keagan says, and I drop my hands so I can look at him. “Levi told me about your conversation, after the funeral. And I have something to say about it. I don’t care if you don’t get back together with him—although, that would be ideal. Just…tell him you’re sorry. Tell him all the things you should have told him when you were dating, and move on.”

He’s right. He’s one hundred percent right, and suddenly, I’m pretty sure I have wings. “I don’t want it to be just any conversation, though,” I announce, to both him and me. I’ve said those words before, however, and they haven’t gotten me any closer to the answer.

Suddenly the window behind me rolls down and Elle sticks her head out. “Excuse me, um, I haven’t been listening to your conversation or anything—actually, wait, yes, I have. But I have an idea, if you don’t mind.”

I grab her hand that’s hanging out the window and squeeze it hard. “Help me. Help me now,” I say, and I’m only half-pretending to be desperate.

She grins slyly. “So, there’s, like, this event coming up. You know, the one Felix’s friend wanted to set up for Levi?”

I grip her hand so hard, I’m worried I’ve crushed all her bones. “When is it?”

“Um, it’s tomorrow.” She clears her throat. “And, well, Levi’s having me give this stupid speech that I don’t want to give because I’m not a writer or a speaker—not like that anyway. I keep reading over it and it sucks. I hate it.”

Keagan frowns. “I fail to see how this helps Bee.”

Elle rolls her eyes. “Men,” she mutters. “Obviously, I want Bee to write the speech—and give it. At the event. Tomorrow.”

I don’t even have to think twice about this—I’m already there, ready for it. “You don’t think he’d mind, though, if I show up uninvited?” I ask, just to make sure.

“Bee, you’re freaking invited, okay? I have a few extra invitations leftover and one of them has your name on it.” She sees my laughing expression and holds up a hand. “I mean it literally has your name on it. Levi had one made and then didn’t send it because he kept saying he’d give it to you in person and that you already knew about it.” Her expression goes dim, as if she’s just now realizing he was lying to her for my sake this whole time. “That little bastard…”

I smile, a giddy, ridiculous smile that I’d never admit to in a million years, especially in front of Keagan, but right now—who freaking cares. “I’ll do it. Elle, I’ll do it.”

(I already know what I want to say to Levi. I already know how I’m going to say I’m sorry.) Elle slaps my hand in a high five. “Good. Write your speech tonight, and tomorrow I’ll pick you up at ten to go dress shopping.”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a fancy event. Like, you know, the kind of fancy only Felix can pull off.”

Remembering the event in Malibu, I nod. “Yeah. Okay.”

I step away from the car and Keagan opens the driver’s door, tossing his keys onto the seat. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“You’ll be there?”

“Obviously.” He hesitates, but a second later he reaches for a hug that I willingly give.

“Keagan, thank you.”

He pats my back twice, then lets me go. “I know you love him.”

“Yeah.” I really, really, really love him, so much that I could explode, so much that I can’t imagine living my life without him. (What was I THINKING?!) With a nod, Keagan climbs into his car and, after letting Elle squeeze my hand one more time, drives away.

Minutes later I’m in my room, a mug of hot tea on my desk beside me, a blank sheet of paper and a green pen in hand. With a deep breath in and out, I start to write all the words I will say to Levi tomorrow night. All the words I’ve wanted to say for a while, but just haven’t had the courage.





That night, when I’ve perfected and memorized my speech, I slip into bed with my mom. I’m surprised to find there are no sisters in sight. “Where are the girls?”

My mom, who’s looking at something on her phone, laughs and invites me closer. “They decided they missed their own beds. But sweetie, look at this.” She tilts the screen toward my face. The text is from Suzie, and it’s a picture of—Levi?

I scrunch up my nose. “Oh, my gosh! How old is he there?”

“Seven,” my mom says, laughing again.

In the picture, my ex-boyfriend-sort-of-still-boyfriend-will-hopefully-be-my-boyfriend-again-soon is sitting on a park bench with an otter pop in one hand and a skateboard in the other…and a full-on Mohawk with blue tips. I mean, I would never put it past his hair to be able to accomplish that height, but wow.

“Suzie let him do that?” I zoom in on his cute face, so young, but with that same smirk I love, the same smirk I swooned over the first day I ever saw him.

“Apparently.” My mom swipes right. “Oh, look, another one.”

Levi’s even younger in this picture, probably five, and he’s missing his two front teeth, so his smile is not just big, it’s dorky, too. I miss that smile. (Suddenly, tomorrow can’t come fast enough.) I rest my head on my mom’s shoulder. “I’m going to a TCP event tomorrow night, with Elle.”

“Good for you, Baby Bee!” she exclaims, surprising me with her enthusiasm.

“I’m going to give the welcome speech, actually.”

“Wow. That’s an amazing opportunity.”

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