Outdrawn

by Deanna Grey

She looked at me now, those dark brown eyes confident. I didn’t know why they set a spark in my belly, the kind of spark I got when I have a long day of drawing ahead of me. Those kinds of days were the only ones I looked forward to.

Lots of things made me happy: art, perfectly seasoned rice, bike rides downtown, and now, apparently, making Sage smile because of something silly.

So, whatever you do and whoever you decide to be, make sure you try whatever calls to you with your head held high, and make sure you correct people when they try to tell you who you are. Because, trust me, they will always try."

“You okay?” I asked in a whisper, finally finding my footing again. “You look…” “What?” she whispered back. “Happy to see me or something,” I teased. “You’re the one who lit up as soon as I got here,” she tossed back with a smile. "In your dreams." "I wouldn’t put it past me," Sage agreed.

How did I switch from wanting Sage to fall off the face of the Earth to needing her to never let me go, no matter the impracticality?

My throat was tight and only got tighter when she said, "I also got you some comfort things, just in case the food wasn't enough." "Really?" I tried to remain calm, even though my mind raced. Was this what it felt like to be taken care of? To be looked after?