All's fair in love and babysitting.
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Shailene Avery is hated by one person, and one person only: Brayden Ferguson Fields. Saturated in sarcasm and edgy teenage angst, Brayden is the one person Shailene cannot understand, like, or even pre...
"It wasn't until I met him that I realized a smile could be more than enough to know you love a person." — E. Grin, Poisoned Ink
Shailene's POV
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SHAILENE ROSE AVERY saw the goodness in everyone. Officially. But it wasn't until she'd held three red roses in her hands that she'd realized it. Now, there was something in her heart that bloomed like roses do; something that was both grand and beautiful, demanding and captivating.
Was it any surprise that Shailene Rose Avery loved roses so much?
Her life in three sections: mind, heart, hand. In her mind was the peace she felt, knowing it wasn't impossible for her to find someone, knowing she might not die alone after all — her fear of solitude could be put to rest. In her heart was the hummingbird, knocking against its cage of rigid ribs. It never seemed to slow these days, always excited. Always full of love. Finally, her hand. It held the blank canvas she'd been carrying around for months.
But there was something else bumping around inside of her mind; an idea, a thought.
Shailene had heard of love. Young love. Puppy love. Temporary love. She didn't know what it was, what it meant, what it was worth. She didn't know if she felt it. But she knew the difference between paint and ink. And you can paint on as many blank canvasses as you want, but it'll never compare to tattooing your name on someone else's heart. Indelible.
Something in the back of her mind whispered to her, soft as a breeze whispering to the leaves. You've tattooed your name on his heart, it said. You are indelible.
Is it possible to catch a hummingbird? Shailene didn't know. But someone must've caught the one inside of her, because there was a name that hadn't always been there — of that, she was certain. It showed up recently, unexpectedly, but it felt like it'd been there all her life.
Three months later, the tattoo-er turned eighteen, and he thought he could get away with not celebrating at all. Well, he thought wrong. Shailene, with the help of Christian, Sam, and Holland, had been planning a surprise party for Brayden for weeks. And the day had finally arrived.
Shailene woke up extra early that day to start getting things ready. It was going to be at her house, since he spent so much time there anyway, and it was easier to set up there. She called Holland over right away to help her with the food, while Sam and Christian would come later with the childish decorations in tow.
It was kind of scary that Brayden had turned 18 — unfamiliar. He now existed in the grey area between adult and teen — both, and yet somehow not entirely either. He could go to bars and casinos, and buy alcohol and cigarettes. He could get a tattoo and get married. He could pay taxes ("Woohoo, taxes," he'd replied sarcastically when she'd mentioned it a few days ago). It was weird to her that she'd just turned 17 a few months ago, and he was already turning 18. It was weird that adulthood was suddenly there. It wasn't "when I turn 18—" anymore, it was "now that I'm 18."
