I scowl at my canvas. I thought pai

I scowl at my canvas. I thought painting something for Romy would be easy. A great Christmas present. I sketched it out—I could see it all in my head. But this just isn’t flowing. I set the palette and brush down and sink onto my dropcloth.
Things haven’t been the same since Thanksgiving. We’re supposed to go to her parents’ party this coming weekend. The idea of it makes my palms sweat. I’m not sure I belong in her world. That thought feels like a blade slicing through my mind. Is she thinking the same thing? Is my life too fucked up? Am I too fucked up? Is it a mistake even to try this?
Something thunks onto the floor next to me. I look over to see a brand new sketchpad, premium heavy weight drawing paper. “Merry Christmas,” says Daniel.
I look over my shoulder and smile as he steps into my studio and sits on the dropcloth next to me. “Thanks. This is awesome.”
“Found what you left me in my studio.”
A sable hair filbert brush. “Romy chipped in. It’s from both of us.”
Part of me warms with pride as I say that. From both of us. Like we’re … something together. But another part of me sparks with fear. I have the funniest feeling, like it’s slipping away.
Daniel grins. “You’re giving Christmas presents together. This must be love.”
My chest aches. I’ve forced myself not to tell her, because I didn’t want to seem … I don’t know. Clingy? I don’t want to be clingy. She hasn’t said it, either, so I think I’ve done the right thing. “Maybe.” Definitely.
The brightness in his expression fades. “Are you all right?” His gaze slides up to my canvas, home to a few lackluster strokes of cobalt. Me, trying to find my way.
“Not sure.” I want to brush it off, because I don’t want my fears to be real. Saying it will make it real. But—“I think Romy’s pulling away from me,” I blurt. “She asked me to go to this fancy party at her parents’—” I’d been so excited. I thought it meant something serious, and I was surprised by how happy that made me. “—but now I’m wondering if she regrets it.”
Daniel leans back on one hand, his always busy fingers playing with the edge of my new sketchpad. “Are you? I mean, meeting the parents.” He shudders.
“I know,” I say. Except I don’t. No one’s ever taken me to meet their parents. “Katie thinks they’ll be snotty to me.” I chuckle. “She seems to think I’m going to have a terrible time and be scarred forever.”
Daniel’s blue eyes snap to mine. “How’s she doing?”
I shrug. “Pretty well, all things considered.” Now that she’s admitted—both to me and to her therapist—that Phil actually did abuse her, the next step is to quit denying it to the rest of our family. Thing is, that’s a huge step, and I have no idea when she’ll be able to take it. “She’s working through some things.”
“She and Romy get along?”
 “Yeah, I guess. But Romy hasn’t been coming over much lately. I was spending a lot of time at her apartment, but Katie’s really needed me more the past few weeks.” And Romy has started telling me I should stay home instead of coming over. I’m beginning to wonder if she doesn’t want me around and is trying to be nice about it. “I haven’t been seeing Romy more than once or twice a week.” And in the last week or so, she’s seemed even more withdrawn.
“Is that cool with you? Because I’ll be honest. It doesn’t look like it’s cool with you,” Daniel says, brushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes.
“No, it’s not, but I can’t really blame her. I’ve had a pretty screwed up life, and maybe she’s deciding it’s too much.” And I get that, but it hurts like a fucking rusty poker in the chest. It feels like she’s peeling away from me, inch by inch, but because she’s become so much a part of me, I’m slowly bleeding to death as she does. “I don’t want to crowd her.”
“Maybe Romy needs to be crowded a little.” Daniel’s mouth twitches mischievously.
“Katie likes it when I’m home.” She says it makes her feel happier. Safer.
“Is she jealous of Romy?”
I blink. “Huh?”
“Just a thought. Katie’s had you all to herself for a while, whether she appreciated that or not. And suddenly Romy shows up, and she’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you, and now Katie has to share.”
My mouth drops open. “I’m always there when Katie needs me.”
Daniel grunts as he pushes himself up. “I know. But Katie’s not the only one allowed to have needs.” He slaps me on the back. “I got a thing to go to. See you later.”
I hate when he does this. Drops bombs and walks away, leaving me to sort it out. Is he saying that I have needs? Or that Romy does? I mean, duh. One of my needs is Romy. That’s why it scares me so much, that I haven’t been over to her place in a week, that the party is this weekend and I feel more nervous about it every day. That’s the kind of thing she would help me sort out, but our conversations have been skimming the surface lately, short and shallow.
I spend another hour in front of my painting and then pack up. This isn’t working. I’m rinsing my brushes when I feel hands on my back, creeping under my shirt,

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

Saya cemberut di kanvas saya. Saya pikir lukisan sesuatu untuk Romy akan mudah. Hadiah Natal besar. Aku sketsa ini-aku bisa melihat semua di kepala saya. Tapi ini hanya tidak mengalir. Aku meletakkan palet dan kuas dan tenggelam ke dropcloth saya.Hal-hal yang belum pernah sama sejak Thanksgiving. Kita harus pergi ke rumah orangtuanya pesta akhir pekan mendatang. Gagasan itu membuat saya palms berkeringat. Saya tidak yakin saya termasuk di dunia. Pikiran itu terasa seperti pisau mengiris melalui pikiran saya. Dia berpikir hal yang sama? Hidupku terlalu kacau? Saya saya juga kacau? Itu kesalahan bahkan untuk mencoba ini?Sesuatu thunks ke lantai di sebelah saya. Aku melihat di untuk melihat baru sketchpad, premi berat kertas gambar. "Selamat Natal," kata Daniel.Saya Cari over my shoulder dan tersenyum sebagai dia langkah-langkah ke studio saya dan duduk di dropcloth di sebelah saya. "Terima kasih. Ini mengagumkan.""Menemukan apa yang Anda meninggalkan saya di studio saya."Sikat rambut musang filbert. "Romy terkelupas di. Itu adalah dari kedua kita."Bagian dari diriku menghangatkan dengan bangga karena saya mengatakan bahwa. Dari kami berdua. Seperti kita sedang... sesuatu bersama-sama. Tetapi bagian lain dari diriku memicu dengan rasa takut. Aku punya perasaan lucu, seperti itu adalah menyelinap pergi.Daniel grins. "Anda memberikan hadiah Natal bersama-sama. Ini harus menjadi cinta."Dada saya sakit. Aku telah memaksa diri untuk tidak berkata padanya, karena aku tidak ingin tampak... Saya tidak tahu. Lengket? Aku tidak ingin menjadi lengket. Dia tidak berkata, baik, jadi saya pikir saya telah melakukan hal yang benar. "Mungkin." Pasti.Kecerahan pada ekspresi memudar. "Apakah Anda saja?" Tatapan slide ke kanvas saya, rumah bagi beberapa stroke loyo kobalt. Saya, mencoba untuk menemukan jalan."Tidak pasti." Saya ingin sikat off, karena saya tidak ingin ketakutan saya menjadi nyata. Mengatakan itu akan membuatnya nyata. Tapi — "Saya pikir penampilan Romy menarik diri dari saya," blurt. "Dia meminta saya untuk pergi ke pesta ini mewah di rumah orangtuanya-" Aku telah sangat bersemangat. Saya pikir itu berarti sesuatu yang serius, dan aku terkejut oleh betapa bahagia yang membuat saya. "- tapi sekarang aku bertanya-tanya jika dia menyesal itu."Daniel bersandar kembali di satu sisi, jari selalu sibuk bermain dengan tepi sketsa saya baru. "Apakah Anda? Maksudku, pertemuan orang tua." Ia ngeri."Aku tahu," kataku. Kecuali aku tidak. Tidak ada yang pernah diambil saya bertemu orang tua mereka. "Katie berpikir mereka akan kotor kepadaku." Aku tertawa. "Dia tampaknya berpikir saya akan memiliki waktu mengerikan dan berbakat selamanya."Mata biru Daniel's snap untuk saya. "Bagaimana ia lakukan?"Aku mengangkat bahu. "Cukup baik, all things considered." Sekarang bahwa dia mengakui — baik untuk saya dan dia terapis — bahwa Phil benar-benar melakukan pelecehan, langkah berikutnya adalah untuk berhenti menyangkal hal itu ke seluruh keluarga kami. Masalahnya, itu adalah langkah besar, dan saya tidak tahu bila dia akan mampu mengambil. "Dia bekerja melalui beberapa hal.""Dia dan Romy mendapatkan?" "Ya, saya kira. Tapi Romy belum datang lebih banyak akhir-akhir ini. Saya menghabiskan banyak waktu di apartemen, tapi Katie benar-benar membutuhkan aku lagi selama beberapa minggu." Dan Romy telah mulai mengatakan padaku aku harus tinggal di rumah daripada datang. Aku mulai bertanya-tanya jika dia tidak ingin aku sekitar dan berusaha untuk bersikap baik tentang hal itu. "Saya belum melihat Romy lebih dari sekali atau dua kali seminggu." Dan dalam minggu terakhir atau lebih, dia telah tampak lebih ditarik."Apakah itu keren dengan Anda? Karena aku akan jujur. Tidak terlihat seperti keren dengan Anda,"kata Daniel, menyikat rambut shaggy dari matanya."Tidak, tidak, tapi aku tidak bisa menyalahkan dia. Aku sudah cukup mengacaukan kehidupan, dan mungkin dia adalah memutuskan sudah terlalu banyak." Dan saya mendapatkan itu, tapi itu melukai seperti poker sialan berkarat di dada. Rasanya seperti dia mengelupas dariku, sejengkal demi sejengkal, tetapi karena ia telah menjadi begitu banyak bagian dari diriku, aku perlahan-lahan saya pendarahan mati seperti yang dilakukannya. "Saya tidak ingin ke kerumunan padanya.""Mungkin Romy perlu ramai sedikit." Daniel's mulut berkedut nakal."Katie menyukainya ketika aku pulang." Dia mengatakan itu membuatnya merasa lebih bahagia. Lebih aman."Apakah dia cemburu Romy?"Saya sekejap. "Ya?""Hanya sebuah pemikiran. Katie telah Anda semua untuk dirinya sendiri untuk sementara, apakah dia dihargai bahwa atau tidak. Dan tiba-tiba Romy muncul, dan dia adalah yang terbaik sialan hal yang pernah terjadi kepada Anda, dan sekarang Katie memiliki untuk berbagi."My mouth drops open. “I’m always there when Katie needs me.”Daniel grunts as he pushes himself up. “I know. But Katie’s not the only one allowed to have needs.” He slaps me on the back. “I got a thing to go to. See you later.”I hate when he does this. Drops bombs and walks away, leaving me to sort it out. Is he saying that I have needs? Or that Romy does? I mean, duh. One of my needs is Romy. That’s why it scares me so much, that I haven’t been over to her place in a week, that the party is this weekend and I feel more nervous about it every day. That’s the kind of thing she would help me sort out, but our conversations have been skimming the surface lately, short and shallow.I spend another hour in front of my painting and then pack up. This isn’t working. I’m rinsing my brushes when I feel hands on my back, creeping under my shirt,