Page 76 of Pining for You

“Well, not CVS here, but Brooklyn here,” I say, trying to stay cool and keep it light. “Me and Cash and Izaac. We’ve been talking about moving to Brooklyn for basically ever. It’s part of why they wanted to come today.”

For now, I don’t get into my objective to wrangle Diya when she graduates too.

“Wow…,” Eve says. “So, we’ll just be trading places, then?”

Now that my glasses are clean and clear, I’m pretty certain that the look on Eve’s face is disappointed, like mine must be. The recognition that this is a letdown for her too is bittersweet.

“I guess it seems that way,” I say.

“Huh,” she says.

We walk in silence for a moment, and my head is spinning from this plot twist. But before either of us can formulate a thought, we’re interrupted by a group of carolers, burly dude-bros all swaying and singing “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” at the top of their lungs. We wait for them to pass, but when it seems like we can pick up our conversation again, a straggler wearing just a Santa suit jacket and boxers and carrying a giant stuffed reindeer in one hand and a poinsettia in the other comes racing up the street, shouting, “Wait up, guys! Santa hit a speed bump!”

Eve and I look at each other and burst into side-clutching laughter. Her eyes brighten, and my shoulders drop, and it breaks the tension at just the right moment.

“Man, I wish you’d caught that on camera,” Eve says, then steadies her breath and tucks her black curls behind her ears in that way I’ve come to know, a way that makes me melt.

“No kidding. Cinematic gold.” ’

“I’m surprised you’re not planning to move to Hollywood.”

“Well, actually, the type of movies I really want to make happen to be set in New York most of the time,” I say.

“And what kinds of movies do you really want to make?” she asks.

“Honestly?” I ask.

“Obviously honestly.”

I pause. “It probably sounds kind of silly,” I say. “But I’ve always really wanted to make Christmas movies. Holiday romantic comedies. Totally queer.”

“Seriously?”

“Obviously seriously,” I say, and nudge her with my shoulder.

“So… the film you’re making today…”

“Is related, actually,” I say. I explain about the applications, the statement, the documentary project. I leave out the part about wanting it to convince her of Christmas magic. Then I wait for her response. In such a short time, I’ve come to really respect Eve’s opinion, and I’m suddenly very curious to hear her thoughts on this plan.

“Hmm. I see where you’re going with that, and it’s a cool approach,” she says. “Originality points for sure.”

“Thanks,” I say. “But… I feel a but coming…”

Her mouth twists into a wry smile at being read by me. “But… I don’t think you need it, Strudel. You’re trying to validate your dreams—probably because people have told you they aren’t valid or serious or whatever. But that’s horseshit. I mean, look, I can’t say I believe in magic, but I do believe that the concept can bring people joy, and hope, and why isn’t that a worthwhile dream?”

I’m stunned.

“I guess what I’m saying is, those movies obviously mean something to you, and if they mean something to you, they’ll mean something to other people too. You should be confident that that’s a good enough reason, or purpose, or whatever,” she says, then shrugs. “Just my opinion.”

“Huh,” I say, and she holds up a finger.

“Oh, and one more thing,” she says, and she’s fired up. “If they don’t agree, you should just go make the movies yourself. Seriously. Take that boatload of tuition money and use it to fund your own project. You don’t need permission, Strudel!”

“That’s… not a crazy thought,” I say.

“I know,” she says confidently.

“It’s funny, though,” I start. “I’ve been saying my whole life I want to make Christmas movies, but then I start this documentary thing this weekend, and it’s, like, really cool.”