His Bad Boy Ego | ✓

Chapter 45

A week passes by and everything that I've wished for in the beginning of the season seemed to fulfill itself. The debt was quickly removed from our family's history, and my dad received a promotion at work. Our family was still as happy as we were when things had hit rock bottom.

"Little," Austin spoke up, shoving me slightly as I was sitting at the kitchen table.

I looked up at his call, glancing from my cereal bowl; milk slightly dripping down my chin as I reached for the napkin to quickly wipe it.

He chuckled and played around with his breakfast, before continuing, "Why didn't you tell us before you got it dropped?"

Knowing that Austin was referring to the debt, I looked back down my bowl and smiled slightly, "I just wanted to handle it by myself."

He passes me a smile, "All grown up now, I see."

I rolled my eyes playfully before pulling out my phone.

"Thank you," Austin says, catching me by surprise, "Dad said thank you too."

A warm feeling took over my body. I was proud of myself for what I've managed to have done, but it didn't feel like I did anything at all. I've made the decision to pay off the debt, but the reason I've gained that amount of money was because of Mrs. Winthrop in the first place.

I smiled back at him, "We're family."

After breakfast, I dragged my tired body back up the stairs and towards all of my art supplies. I stretched out my arms, leaving a loud groan while picking up the big empty canvas and bucket of art supplies. I turned back around and exited my room, making my way down towards the garage.

Austin watches me from the kitchen as I struggled to open the door that leads to the garage. After a long minute of struggling, I could hear Austin laughing as I finally was able to open the door with a life supply of survival kits in my arms. I turned my head towards the kitchen and toss him a smug before stumbling into the garage.

The garage was now empty. All the cars were parked outside, while my dad took his car to work. I took a deep breath and set down the large canvas against the wooden wall, the bucket right next to it. I plugged my phone into the large speakers and pressed the button that opens the front of the garage, revealing a quiet and clean neighborhood.

I walked over to the large pile of art supplies that was stacked in the corner of the garage, and grabbed a large table cloth. Dragging the cloth across the garage, I laid it down as I taped the edges before returning to my position in front of the canvas.

I was dressed in a big white t-shirt that was covered in previous paint stains. I remember the first time I wore Austin's shirt and painted, he was mad at me for nearly a week. After that, Austin's favorite shirt started to become my favorite t-shirt dress to paint in. I was wearing spandex that was long enough just to peak out about an inch below the t-shirt. I loosely grabbed all of my dark curls and toss it into a bun.

Then I grabbed the top of the canvas, and dropped it onto the floor, on top of the table cloth. I grabbed a face mask and hooked the strand behind my ear before grabbing a hold of the spray paint bottle, placing my index finger on the spray and shaking the bottle. The clicking sound of the bottle matched along with the beat of the music.

Soon enough I found myself playing with colors of the warm toned, spraying with much delicacy and precise.

"Aubrey," I heard Austin calling me.

I stopped and finally looked up to him, blinking at him innocently as I watched him standing at the door frame.

"It's about time," Austin grins, "I've been calling you for a while now."