Following the plan, Apollo and Kai scattered across the lot to stand guard, Theo following behind them. They didn’t exactly fit the profile of Edgewood street artists. Sol was the only who remained. She and Jerry had been the ones who’d introduced Zed to graffiti, so they always tended to oversee any complicated tags. Zed didn’t mind. Sol always had good advice. Or hilarious commentary.

“I think you might need this,” Sol said, placing Zed’s sketchbook onto the dumpster. Zed smiled. Sol was never unreliable, in character or in deed.

Snapping on her gloves, Zed moved quickly, sketchbook in her right hand and a canister in her left. A familiar sweat began to form on her fingers as she pressed down on the tip of the canister, the heat of the night and the moment magnified by the gloves’ tight fit. But Zed felt calm as the hiss of the canister and the shimmer of the paint gripped her, narrowing her focus. Slowly, the owl began to disintegrate before her eyes, feathers unraveling, its plumage dissolving in a spray of white mist. Zed’s hand moved steadily, patiently, her eyes darting back and forth between her sketchbook and the wall.

The outline complete, she flipped up her surgical mask to catch her breath. The air was fuming, but she gulped it down, jumping off the dumpster.

Sol nodded, clearly impressed. Zed stood beside her, examining the outline from a distance. This honestly could do without color, she considered, quickly rejecting that same thought. She had to see it through as envisioned; each line and shade and hue had to materialize onto that wall exactly as planned.

“I’ve got a plan, Zed,” Sol said, “I’m not going to do college or the military. I need stability right now. It helps me stay calm, you know? I’m gonna try to get a real estate license, fix up houses. Nothing major, but it’s just for me, I think.” Zed almost patted her on the back, but remembering her paint-covered hand, left it floating behind her. Sol eyed her quizzically, adding, “Stability also means staying single, sorry.” They laughed. Zed was pleased to be her confidante. It was a first. She sensed something was being omitted, but declined to push it. Sol always pushed back.

“That’s dope,” Zed said.

“That’s all you have to say? Just gave you my goals and you’re looking at me like I’m a guidance counselor on a Friday afternoon.”

Zed chuckled. “I just admire you. I’m about to go to college just because that’s what I’m supposed to do, but you’re actually thinking about all this shit.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to think about things. And honestly, I didn’t even used to think about the future. Well, I did, but I didn’t think about it like I should have. I forgot how hard it is for people to change.”