Safety Net (Mendell Hawks Book 3)

by Deanna Grey

The oil-painted stars reminded me of my roommate’s best friend, Celeste Able. There were stars in the corners of her eyes when I first met her. Small, hand-drawn stars. Barely noticeable, barely there. But once I saw them, I couldn’t stop marveling. Those stars were delicate work, worthy of close examination but almost hidden. Who did something that special but attempted to hide it?

Hockey was my safe harbor, the only place that accepted my impatience.

“Social anxiety disorder,” I said, now by her side. “I’m over it.”

i wish it was this easy girl

Neglected art programs made hungry students. Hungry students were a force to be reckoned with—especially hungry musicians. There was a kind of fire in our belly that wouldn’t be tamed, no matter how many “you should get a backup plan” comments were thrown our way.

“You really think he’d say yes?” Naomi smiled and nodded. “There is no world in which Lincoln Hill would ever turn down a chance to work with you.”

I wanted to be someone she felt safe enough to talk to—or at least tolerate. I could live with tolerance. Maybe even thrive because this was Celeste—a wildly creative human being who loved her quiet corners and her art. I was attracted to the gentle flow of it all.

And there it was: a purpose. A north star to guide me when it came to talking to Lincoln. I wanted to learn from him.

It’s difficult to fake the need to look at books when she was here. Celeste was in my favorite store, holding my favorite book, and wearing my favorite color ribbons around her jean loops. Every time I’ve seen her in jeans, they include some type of bow. Today’s color was green. The ribbons reminded me of a jersey, and I couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like in a Mendell Hawks hockey jersey. My jersey.

Celeste held the key to triggering a fire in my veins. She had a peaceful confidence about her. It was in those small details. The things that set her apart from me, Lenny, and every person I’d ever encountered. In her quiet, Celeste was her own person. She didn’t have to run her mouth like yours truly to be seen or heard. I couldn’t imagine her walking into a room unnoticed.

Any second Celeste had to spare, I selfishly wanted.

Every time I saw Celeste, it was the product of a happy accident. Or, maybe (as I liked to imagine ) the universe making our paths cross over and over, so we had ample chance to talk.

Was it possible she was interested in a world of just the two of us? Could she envision it as clearly as I could?

I wanted to be closer. Not just physically. I wanted to be like we were now, talking about books and finding interest in something together. I didn’t think I was lonely before, but with her here, I wondered if that had been the case. If all along, I wanted someone to get lost with in a bookstore.

She’d written a musical? Oh, yeah, there was never a world in which I didn’t pine for this woman.

“You don’t have to say yes immediately. I was going to pitch the story to you.” She rummaged through her tote bag for her phone. “No pitch necessary. If you made it, I know it’s amazing.” Her laugh was a bit dry this time, unconvinced by my flattery. “Sure.” “It’s in the details,”

“The colors you choose for your eyeliner. Rainy days are yellow. Sunny days are pink. Purple when there’s something big happening in the community center. That’s when I know an event’s coming up and you’re in charge of prep. Then there’s…”

how cute is this

It was hard work being the primary source of entertainment for the friend group. It downright saddened me to think of how little they were laughing at this very moment because I wasn’t there.

Her laugh was brighter and lasted longer. I need to drown in it. To be so entwined that I didn’t know my end and its beginning.

"I really admire how you communicate. You always make everyone feel included." That was the highest compliment I’d ever received. And a slight indication Celeste had noticed me.

I believed in music. I believed it was my native language. As soon as I mastered it, I didn’t want to be silent. Why stay quiet when I could tell such beautiful stories through the notes?

I didn’t feel like I was the only outsider when I watched The Phantom of the Opera.

Whatever problem I had could be solved by listening to Defying Gravity.

The treehouse stood the test of time. It was large enough for a chest full of art supplies and blankets. I’d hung princess curtains in the windows, strung fairy lights on the outside and inside. We’d rigged a bucket where I could request snacks to be sent up without having to climb down the ladder. It would always be the safest place to dream and create.

i’m jealous

“Don’t laugh. It’s a demo.” “I never laugh.” My nose wrinkled at the blatant lie. “I laughed one time.” He held up a finger. “But it was a good laugh. The kind of laugh you want from an audience.” “It was a break-up ballad.” “I happened to find break-ups funny, I’m sorry.”

I promised because this time, it’d be for fun. And it’d be for Celeste.

I didn't know much about him, but I knew enough to believe he was safe enough to be silly around.

Who cared about reflexes when the beautiful girl you wanted to spend all your time with needed your help with something? I had more important things to prove than how fast I could block a puck.

I wanted someone to notice me. Not my music, me. Not someone. Lincoln. Just Lincoln.

His joy was contagious. He's some new, bright sun, pulling things into its orbit and giving them much-needed life. I want to be the closest planet. I want to be near enough to be wrapped in his warmth.

Lincoln was a perfect canvas, and I could decorate every inch of his skin.

There was a special kind of beauty in falling in love with a song along with someone else.

The weight of school has made everything black and white. With Lincoln, I could finally see colors in between.

I never could have predicted looking at Lincoln would be like looking in a mirror. Tonight, I'd seen a part of myself I'd known in my deepest isolation.

Lincoln Hill was the only person I wanted to share my chaotic, concerning, and saddening honesty with. He was the one person I knew could keep my confessions safe while challenging me enough to question my beliefs.

"Lincoln, you of all people are capable of being whoever you want."

"Should I be prepared?" I looked down at my skirt and sandals. "Dressed a certain way?" He looked down too. "Maybe some walking shoes?" "Where are we going?" "Ever been on a ghost tour?"

not at all what i was expecting but i love it

Celeste deserved all the flowers on every inch of the mountainside.

I'm so hers I don't know how I've lasted this long without her.

I positioned the cap so it blocked us from the outside world and everything that'd dare to make this moment anything other than ours.

"What's wrong?" She turned to me, framed by the hazy glow of fireflies buzzing behind her. "I just…" I shrugged. "Wanted to see you." "Were you not looking this whole time?" she teased, dipping her gaze down for a second. I tucked my fingers underneath her chin, coaxing her head back up. "I was, but it didn't feel like enough."

"Celeste, everything about you makes me feel like I'm taking both my first and last breath. Every semblance of chill doesn't exist when I hear your name."

There was no reason to hide from Celeste. When she looked at me, she didn't see one part. I wasn't the class clown. The hockey goalie. The party guy. I was everything I wanted to be, and more. When Celeste looked at me, she expected me to have more to offer and to be unfinished, which she saw as something good. And inspiring. And hopefully, as something that was hers.

"You don't have to figure out where you fit, Lincoln," Sam said. "Because it's here. With us. No matter where we move or how we change, this right here is solid ground. Understood?"

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you." I slipped my hand into his, squeezing to communicate my overflowing gratefulness. "And I'm not just talking about the musical." "You would have," Lincoln promised. "You shine too bright not to."

"There is no scenario in which I wouldn't have you, Celeste. It's the one thing I know for certain. It's written in the stars or etched in some stone on a remote island. It's all ancient and mystic and true."

"I'd wait till the sun burned out for a simple response because you are one of the most genuine people I've met. You think your quiet's a flaw when all I see is a person who doesn't put on a mask to entertain people. So many people make noise, but you, Celeste, know how to build something in the silence."

"I could do it from the front or back," Lincoln offered. "Till my lungs give out. In any way you want me."

In a world where Lincoln existed, I never wanted to be alone again.

I found my voice between Lincoln's sheets with his head between my thighs and my body in ecstasy. It was a kind of power I'll never give away. A type of power I knew he'd want me to keep forever.

Celeste tasted like those moments between wake and sleep. When life was flawless and without anything weighing you down.