[Chapter 25] Picture books.

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"What am I supposed to get for your dad?" Noah asks walking into my room

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"What am I supposed to get for your dad?" Noah asks walking into my room. He flops on my bed.

"I don't know. Dad shoes?" He looks up at me.

"He already has like five pairs. And he only wears the worn-out ones." I laugh.

"That's true," I set my sketchbook on my side table and lay back on my pillows.

"What are you drawing?" He reaches over and grabs it but frowns at the empty page.

"I've been sitting here for two hours. Nothing comes to mind," I sigh and get under my comforter, "my mom has always kinda been my inspiration for everything but-" I trail off.

My mom hasn't been home in two weeks. As far as I know, she's staying at my aunt's but other than that no idea. We went last week and got a Christmas tree without her, it's the first year we've done it without her. I flip over onto my stomach and Noah puts the book back down.

"I'm sorry," he starts massaging my back and I groan.

"That feels good. And you don't need to apologize, it's not your fault," his hands trail down until he can slip his hands under the back of my- his hoodie and starts rubbing it again.

"It kinda is," I roll my eyes, even though he can't see me.

"Shut up, no it's not," his hands move up to my shoulders causing me to groan again, he should consider this as a job. "It's her fault for treating you the way she did which she should've never done."

"But I-"

"Shut up before I kick you out of my room," I hear him sigh before he sits up and moves down my back again.

____________________

I wake up to somebody shaking me. Shit, Noah put me to sleep. That didn't come out right. "Hey, Car. Cayden wants to decorate the tree so I want you to go get all the stuff from the attic so we can start," I open my eyes and look at my dad before sitting up.

"Okay," he leaves my room right as Noah comes in.

"What was that about?"

"I have to go get all of the Christmas decorations," I stand up and walk Into the hallway before pulling the ladder down. I climb up with Noah following me. Shit, there's a lot of dust up here.

I wave some of it away and look through the boxes until I find the Christmas ones. A big crash followed by, "fuck!" Comes from Noah. I look over to see he dumped a box of picture books out. "Sorry," I shake my head and laugh.

"It's fine," I start picking them up with his help until one falls open revealing a picture of me from third grade. I pick it up to look at the picture. I sit down next to Noah and narrow my eyes. It was at the jog-a-thon. We just had to run a bunch of laps for money.

My mom took the picture of me with my medal for most laps. "Is that you glaring at me in the back?" Noah leans forward and laughs before nodding.

"Yep. I remember being so mad because you got most laps and I got second-most laps."

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