Page 44 of Pining for You

“Well, I had to cut back on some things.”

“And is that why you moved?” Izaac asks. “To cut back on things?”

“That’s part of it,” she says. “Plus, this way I’m closer to work, and my creative partners.”

“And by creative partners, you mean… in making video games.”

If Izaac is going to try to get Audra’s help with their family—or reconnect with her at all, he’s going to have to lighten up and be a little less judgmental.

“ ’Fraid so,” Audra says. Now she’s smirking at him. “I know you are deeply uncomfortable with all this, but you will eventually find that life is about a lot more than what our parents think.”

“Is that why you didn’t tell me you moved? Or anything, for that matter? Because I’d be uncomfortable and you think I can’t handle it?”

I try to follow the back-and-forth.

“I’m confused, Z. You don’t talk to me for months, and now you show up here at my job, totally out of the blue, and act like I’m putting you out? What is going on?”

“Are you serious? I don’t talk to you? You’re the one who went MIA. I waited to hear from you, for you to tell me yourself, but you never said a word to me. I had to hear everything from Mom and Dad. Do you know how that felt?”

Okay, nowwwww I’m starting to see the problem here.

“Wait,” Audra says, and starts laughing. “Oh, this is so classic.”

“What?” Izaac asks. “What’s so funny?”

“I told them about school, and they completely freaked out, as expected. And then the next day when they finally calmed down a little, they called me back. That’s when I asked them not to tell you—I wanted to tell you myself. But they said they already told you, that you were disappointed in me, and that you didn’t want to talk to me. They said you felt like you had to carry the family name now, that I gave up on our dream. They used the word betrayed.”

She pauses. Clearly, this has been hurting Audra.

“They said I should just give you some space, that you’d come around in your own time,” she finishes.

“And you believed that?” Izaac asks, and Audra sighs.

“I wish I hadn’t. But… I was so nervous you were going to be upset with me, or embarrassed by me… I guess it was already in my head, so yeah. I did.”

“Damn,” Izaac says.

“Why would they do that?” I ask, and it’s an almost involuntary outburst, because I seriously cannot compute.

They both look at me like they forgot I was here, but it’s Audra who speaks.

“I’m not surprised,” she says. “They were always trying to make sure I didn’t ‘corrupt’ Izaac. I knew leaving school, ditching the Plan, being honest about how I felt—they weren’t about to let me have that kind of influence.”

“Well, so what did happen?” Izaac asks. “You seemed so good here when I visited last year.”

“Well, yeah, I didn’t want to tell you how much I hated it. I had been saying for so long that I was going to be a lawyer and a politician, because Mom and Dad wanted that for us, and because I did really want to make an impact. But then I started school and just… nothing about it was for me.”

Izaac and I are quiet.

“Moving here, I got to see really quickly just how big the world is—how many cool ways there are to make a difference—that maybe I didn’t have to be a politician to have a purpose, you know? And here I was, committed to something so big and scary and expensive, ya know? I was having doubts and racking up debt I’d have for the rest of my life. And without being sure…”

I listen closely now. I’ve recently had that same thought about film school.

“I realized that those weren’t my dreams. Or at least, not anymore. To be honest, it was a little… embarrassing. Like I should have known myself better.”

Izaac’s arms are crossed, but I know him well enough to see that he’s been convinced. Audra shakes her head, switching between her regret and her anger with their parents.

“God, and to think of all the times I wanted to reach out.”