Page 46 of The Write Stuff

He didn’t let me off the hook. “You can tell me all about it in a second. We need to get through this first.”

Of course. Well, great. I was going to start crying again if I wasn’t careful.

“Lucy probably isn’t a bad person,” he acknowledged. “The Kit Kat incident notwithstanding, of course.”

I pressed my lips together; certain I was going to start laughing.

“You’re right that she was taught to live a certain way, and it’s working against her now,” he continued. “You’re not responsible for Lucy, though. I know I’ve already told you that, but I need you to really hear it. She has got to start taking care of herself. That’s the way the world works.”

He took a deep breath. “As for nobody wanting to be like you, that’s not true, Wylie,” he continued. “You have always been cool, and not because you know Klingon. I still find that weird, and I know the story about meeting Worf is going to give me indigestion. It’s because you were always comfortable being you. That’s what makes you cool. Don’t listen to Lucy. She’s just being defensive.”

“I know that,” I admitted. “She looked as if she wanted to take it back right away. It’s just hard for me. I’ve never been good at holding my ground.”

“It’s because you’re too sweet,” he lamented. “You’ve always let people walk all over you. It’s time you put yourself first, however. You get to be the star of your own story.”

Nobody had ever given me such an ego boost. I didn’t know what to make of it. “Do you really think I’m cool?” I challenged.

He barked out a laugh. “Do you doubt what I’m saying?”

“Yes.” I jutted out my chin. “Name one thing I’ve done that you think is cool.”

“Oh, see, you’re putting me on the spot.”

“I’m waiting.”

“Fine.” He cocked his head, and I knew he was scanning his memories. I was certain he was going to come up empty until he smiled. “Do you remember when the first season of The Walking Dead came out? Back then, everybody was crazy for the show.”

“Yes.” I bobbed my head. “Before Negan showed up and ruined everything.”

“There was a girl at one of the conventions,” he prodded. “She was about seven or eight, and there was this rowdy group of boys who were in line to meet one of the actors — I can’t remember which one — but the boys were in the line with the girl, who was dressed up in a costume.

“The boys were giving her a hard time because they said a girl couldn’t be as cool as whatever character she was dressed up as, and she started crying,” he continued. “You swooped right in and told her that she could be whatever she wanted and not to listen to them. Within two minutes, you had her laughing, and then you made those boys want to cry when you introduced her to the actor.”

I turned sheepish. “I had just met him thanks to Mom. She’d arranged it before the doors opened that morning. It was a total fluke.”

“No, Wylie, it was you,” he insisted. “You have always been cool, and you made that girl’s day. I bet she still remembers you.”

“It was nothing.”

“Stop being self-deprecating. Your biggest problem is that you’ve never believed in yourself the way others believe in you.”

I fell silent for several seconds and actually thought about what he’d said. “Do you think that Lucy will believe in me one day?”

“She already does, Wylie. That’s why she came to you.” He squeezed my wrist again. He’d never let it go. “Lucy is feeling defensive. Once she calms down, she’ll realize you’re actually looking out for her.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“She will.”

“But —”

“No.” He shook his head. “It’s time you believe in yourself, Wylie Dixon.”

And when he said it like that, for the first time in my whole life, I wanted to believe. Maybe that would be enough.

13

THIRTEEN