Page 66 of Drawn Together

“I don’t think I can take living like this much longer,” I said, looking sidelong at Sebastian, who stood at the other end of the room with Wilson and Logan, but I knew they had an ear to our conversation.

“It’s the way things are,” my father said, standing up and heading back to his office.

The way things are… What an answer.

I stood up, angry. Sebastian didn’t even look at me, which really made my blood boil.

I went to bed without even stopping into my sister’s room to talk.

The next morning, I woke up in a better mood, happy because I had something to do, a welcome distraction. I’d always been someone who liked to go out and help. I loved being a productive member of my community and finding any way to give back, loved feeling like I was part of something important. So whenever I was home in Louisiana, I volunteered at a nonprofit foundation that had been originally set up to help with the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. I wasn’t there when the storm hit, but the hurricane had been one of the most devastating natural disasters in the history of our country, and New Orleans, one of my favorite cities in the world, had never fully recovered, something that still made me sad to think about. Over time, the nonprofit shifted to working with unhoused people, doing the work of finding homes for families going through hard times. The most successful initiative was the soup kitchen, which fed hundreds of families and served as a shelter to children without homes.

My father supported the organization and was one of the top contributors. Many of our wealthy neighbors did as well after I went door to door asking for donations. In four years, I’d managed to help raise a good deal of money for the nonprofit Stronger Together, or ST for short. I loved the organization and the people who worked there. It was a place where I felt valued, and even though I’d had to take a step back to focus on my studies, I always liked to lend a hand wherever possible, especially with preparations for the festival we held every year to raise money.

Before heading out, I dressed comfortably in leggings, a shirt that tied in the back to hide my tattoo, and sneakers. My sister often volunteered as well, but I wasn’t going to ask her tocome with me today since she’d just gotten home from school and was likely jet-lagged.

To my surprise, I entered the kitchen and found said sister sitting on the counter, talking to Sebastian, Wilson, and Lupita, who was mixing dough.

It was strange to see Sebastian smiling and nodding along as she talked. My sister could be very charming, and I adored her, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a pang of jealousy seeing him so relaxed around her. His eyes flitted to me for a second, and then immediately darted away with the look of someone averting their gaze from an eyesore. Wilson, on the other hand, let his eyes linger… We’d spent a lot of time together, and I’d noticed the way he looked at me.

“Come in, Mar, we’re making cookies,” my sister said, gesturing to Lupe.

“You’remaking cookies?” I replied sarcastically, noticing my tone had come out uncharacteristically sour. I wasn’t someone who was often in a bad mood. I could get mad, yes, but it passed quickly. Sebastian, on the other hand, frustrated me to the point that I wanted to pull out my hair.

“Well, more like we’re entertaining Lupe while she makes cookies,” Gabi answered with a smile. “But you like us talking to you, right, Lupita?” she asked.

I ignored them and walked to the fridge, where I took out a bottle of Evian water and stopped at the counter to open my backpack and put it inside. Sebastian sat up a little straighter in his seat, and Wilson watched me out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m going into town. I’ll take my car,” I announced to no one in particular.

“Can I go with you?!” my sister exclaimed, jumping off the counter.

“I’m going to ST,” I answered.

She looked disappointed. “Oh, then I’ll just stay here.”

“Very nice, Gabriella. I’m glad to see that the thought of helping others gives you so much joy,” I answered, dry as a desert.

My sister threw me a guilty look. “Well, if you want, I could—” she started to say.

“Don’t worry about it,” I cut her off. “Wil, would you mind coming with me?” I said, knowing that he was supposed to be guarding my sister.

Wilson stood up immediately. “Of course.”

“No,” said Sebastian, taking the last sip of his coffee without even looking at me as he spoke. “I’ll go with you,” he added, standing in one swift movement.

I crossed my arms and turned toward him. “I don’t want you to come with me. I want Wil,” I said coldly, refusing to look him in the eye, worried I might falter if I did.

“Wilson is your sister’s bodyguard. I’m yours,” he corrected me dryly.

“Right, but what does it matter? You’re interchangeable, aren’t you?” I said, now looking directly into his brown eyes. “It’s not that hard to follow me around—anyone could do it.”

Boom, I’d just insulted their work. I felt sorry for Wilson, but I didn’t care that I was being a bitch.

The vein in Sebastian’s neck began to twitch.

“I’ll be the one to go with you, Marfil, end of discussion.”

I huffed pathetically. “I don’t want to go with you!”