Page 138 of Losing Faith

“You could never hang out with him too much. It’s August.”

“True.”

We both share a laugh before I turn serious again.

“I think I need a new environment.” I share my idea from this morning. “My apartment makes me sad just thinking about it and it’s not good for my mental health.”

“I’ll get you a new place,” he says cheerfully.

“I’llget me a new place.”

He opens his mouth but I stop him.

“You already paid my rent for the year. I’m not letting you get me a whole new apartment.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Don’t be that girl in the movies that doesn’t let the rich man help her.”

“If you were a rich man who was trying to sleep with me, I’d let you buy methreehouses,” I state. “You’re family and I know you don’t mean it as a handout, but it feels like one, and when I’m depressed in my sad room, all I’m going to think about is how I’m a burden and can’t do anything for myself because you bought the depressed room I’m crying in.”

A smile touches his face, but I notice the somberness in it. “You’re not a burden.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“I am.”

He lets out a defeated sigh. “Do you feel like that in your current apartment because I paid your rent?”

“Yes.”

His entire mood plummets and I feel bad telling him after all these months, but it’s true.

“I didn’t mean it as a handout. We made a deal.”

“And the deal was working great, but now I need something I worked hard for.”

Sire nods in understanding. “So you’re going to get a job?”

I let out a sigh as I rest my head on the table. “I’ve gotten too comfortable being unemployed. I don’t want one,” I whine and I know I probably sound bratty, but I didn’t grow up rich, so it doesn’t count.

“Marry a rich man,” Sire jokes but his best friend pops into my head and the idea isn’t the worst one I’ve had.

“I’m thinking of selling my paintings,” I voice, picking up my head from the table.

“You mean you’re taking my idea to sell your art.”

“Shut up. It was my idea because I’m so smart and always have great ideas.”

“Youneverhave remotely good ideas. I actually think August has better ideas than you.”

I ignore him. “Since I don’t have enough pride tonotask for help, I’m going to ask these three, pretty famous, insanely rich, ugly people, if they can promote my art on social media.”

His brows furrow before clarity passes through his face and he bites back a laugh. “Your paintings will sell out in ten minutes if you hadoneof those three, insanely rich,beautiful, people promoting them on their social media.”

“Sage.”

“Me.”

---