Chapter 22: "Not The Same Lily"

Lily wasn't sure what woke her up. Maybe it was the sound of the hallway door creaking open, or the sudden silence in her dream. Either way, her eyes fluttered open at 6:03 AM, and her first thought wasn't about Joe. It wasn't even about school or the art critique she had in two days.

It was about Ava.

She hadn't called home in a while—not properly. Sure, she replied to her mom's texts, liked the occasional photo in the family group chat, and sent a voice note here and there. But a real conversation? She hadn't had one since the blurry photo of Joe had still existed in her phone.

Maybe she was scared. Not of her mom. But of what she'd hear in her voice. The things her mom always caught onto before Lily even said them. It was like her voice carried the truth, even when her words didn't.

Lily rubbed her eyes and sat up slowly. The sky outside the dorm window was still dark, tinged with a pale gray like it hadn't decided on its mood for the day.

Jess was snoring lightly in her bed, wrapped up in her cloud-printed blanket. Lily tiptoed out of the room, hoodie on, phone in hand, and made her way downstairs to the quiet study lounge.

She hesitated only for a moment before pressing the call button.

It didn't even ring twice.

"Lily?" her mom's voice came through instantly, a little raspy but sharp, like she'd been up already.

"Hi, Mom," she said quietly.

"Is everything okay?"

Lily nodded, even though her mom couldn't see her. "Yeah. I just... I wanted to hear your voice."

There was a pause. Then a soft sigh.

"You always call when something's on your chest."

Lily smiled faintly. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true."

Another silence stretched between them. But this one didn't feel heavy. Just full.

"I miss you," her mom finally said. "The house is quieter without you. Ava still insists on setting a plate for you at dinner."

Lily swallowed. "She does?"

"Mhm. Yesterday she said, 'Lily's probably eating noodles in her dorm. She always eats noodles when she's sad.'"

Lily laughed, and the sound cracked a little. "She's not wrong."

"Is that what this is? Sad noodles?"

"I don't know," Lily admitted. "Maybe."

"Wanna talk about it?"

And she did. For the next twenty minutes, she told her mom everything. About Joe. About how she'd let herself hope. About how she caught herself shrinking again. About the sketch of the girl on the cliff, the message from a stranger, and how she was slowly rebuilding.

Her mom didn't interrupt. Just listened. That kind of listening that felt like safety.

When Lily finally stopped talking, her mom exhaled into the silence.

"Do you remember what I told you after you punched Joshua in sixth grade?"

Lily blinked. "That I shouldn't go around hitting boys?"

Her mom chuckled. "That too. But I also said—when someone makes you feel like you're too much, it's usually because they're not enough."

That made Lily smile.

"I'm proud of you, baby," her mom added. "Not for moving on from a boy. But for finally seeing yourself. Really seeing."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Anytime. Now, do you want to talk to Ava before she leaves for school? She's been working on her own superhero comic."

"Obviously."

Ava came on the line with the kind of chaotic energy that could power a small city.

"LILY! I made you into a superhero too! You have paintbrushes that shoot glitter bombs and a cape made of paper!"

Lily grinned so hard her cheeks hurt. "That's perfect. Do I have a name?"

"DUH. You're The Amazing Brush Queen! And your sidekick is a cat named Toffee who eats all the bad dreams."

Lily bit her lip, trying not to cry. "I love it."

"I love you more!" Ava squealed. "Also, Mommy said if you come home for midterm break, we can make chin-chin together."

"I'm there."

They chatted for a bit longer before Lily promised to call again soon. When she finally hung up, the sky had brightened, streaks of orange and pink slicing through the gray.

And for the first time in a long time, Lily felt like someone had poured light into all her dark corners.

She climbed back upstairs, showered, got dressed, and headed to her 9 AM Foundations of Art class. Her body moved like it remembered how to be alive again.

Professor Haley greeted the class with a cryptic smile.

"We're doing something different this week," she announced, holding up a flyer. "The Westview Gallery is hosting an Open Canvas event on Friday night. Any student can submit a piece. No themes. No rules. Just raw, real art."

Whispers rippled through the room.

"There's also a live vote," Haley added. "The top five pieces will be displayed in the gallery for a whole month."

Lily's chest tightened.

A public showcase?

Voting?

She immediately felt her fingers tingle with nerves.

"Think of it as a chance," Haley said, looking right at her. "To say what you've always wanted to say."

After class, Lily sat on a bench near the sculpture garden. The flyer was still clutched in her hand. She stared at it like it was written in another language.

She didn't even know what she'd submit. She wasn't ready. She wasn't brave enough. Right?

But then she thought about the stranger who messaged her. About Ava's superhero drawing. About her mom's voice and those words: when someone makes you feel like you're too much…

She opened her sketchbook and flipped to the cliff girl. She had erased and redrawn her so many times that the paper was soft and worn.

Maybe she didn't need something new.

Maybe this was the piece.

This girl wasn't perfect. But she was Lily. Every bruise, every scar, every quiet victory.

She took a deep breath.

By Friday, she had cleaned up the sketch, scanned it, and printed a high-resolution version on textured matte paper. It looked different in her hands—like it belonged to someone braver.

The gallery buzzed with energy that night. Students from every department gathered, dressed in everything from hoodies to full-on gowns. There were lights, music, and even a snack bar with tiny cupcakes.

Lily found herself standing near the back, trying to blend in, but Jess found her easily.

"You made it!" Jess said, squeezing her arm. "And you submitted that cliff piece, right?"

Lily nodded. "It's near the corner wall. Low lighting. Probably the least noticeable one here."

Jess gave her a look. "First of all, shut up. Secondly, you're coming with me. We're doing the full tour."

Lily let herself be pulled around. Some pieces were breathtaking—vivid paintings of grief, digital collages about identity, sculptures made of recycled materials. One even had a built-in audio loop of someone's heartbeat.

But every time she passed her piece, she noticed something surprising.

People were stopping.

Some just glanced.

Others stared.

One girl even touched her chest, whispered something to a friend, and nodded with glassy eyes.

Lily looked away, heart pounding.

Voting opened at 8 PM.

Each student got one token. You dropped it into a jar under your favorite piece. Simple.

By 8:45, Lily's jar had eleven tokens.

She blinked.

Eleven people had voted for her.

For that piece.

For her.

It wasn't the most. Some jars were nearly full. But it didn't matter. Not tonight.

She didn't win.

But she didn't leave empty.

As the event wrapped up, one of the art seniors approached her.

"Hey, are you Lily?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"I just wanted to say... that piece? The cliff girl? That hit me hard. I've been trying to put something like that on canvas for years. Thank you."

Lily smiled, stunned. "Thank you."

On the walk back to her dorm, Jess slung an arm around her shoulder. "So… you coming to that Fall Festival tomorrow?"

Lily laughed. "Why do you keep bringing up that mechanical bull?"

Jess shrugged. "Because I want to see you ride it while screaming 'Brush Queen, activate!'"

"God, no."

"But you'll come?"

Lily paused. "Yeah. I think I will."