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“Isn’t that the whole point?”
“Don’t make me feel worse about it. I’ll still take care of animals whenever I can, but I don’t think I can make that my job.”
“So what then?” Cory asks.
“I don’t know,” I say, lying. Then I add, “It’s stupid.”
“I doubt that,” Cory says. “You’ve only ever been stupid about three things since I’ve known you.” He holds up one finger. “You believe that pineapple pizza is the best pizza.” A second finger. “You thought Princess Leia was a character from Star Trek.” A third finger. “And of course, your biggest doozy: you still hang out with me.”
This earns him a light chuckle, which I’m sure was his goal all along.
“So what’s this big secret of yours?” Cory asks. “You’re not planning on becoming a professional influencer like Tina was bragging about, are you? I mean, as long as it’s not that, I can at least still respect you.”
I decide to just come out and say it. “Actress?”
His eyebrows wrinkle at first, like the two hemispheres of his brain are leaning into one another, discussing what this revelation might mean. Then he cocks his head to the side, pushes out his lips, and says, “That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Look, how can I explain this?” He holds both of his hands out in front of him, creating a rectangle with his thumbs and forefingers. He approaches me like he’s filming me through an imaginary camera. “You’re smart, so you can definitely manage the technical aspects of learning to act. Plus you’ve got the facial structure for it. I mean, you’re definitely going to be the hottest one at prom next week.”
“Shut up,” I say in automatic defense before I can even consider that this might be a real compliment.
“No, seriously. Plus if you’re looking to change the world like you’re always talking about, you’ll be doing a lot better than Tina. The only thing she’s going to be influencing is her future customers to upgrade to a large set of fries.”
He laughs at his own joke, but the school bell rings before I can make any sort of reply. It’s the warning that we have ten minutes to get our asses to the next class.
“But maybe you’re right,” Cory says.
“Right about what?” I ask, coming out of my deep thoughts at why Cory is acting this way, and the more important ponderings over whether being an actress is something I can actually accomplish. It felt like nothing more than a stupid dream before this, but now it’s something tangible. Still miles and miles away, but I can just see it on the horizon, and if I keep running, there’s a possibility I may reach it before it evaporates.
“Right about being a pilot. It’s too realistic. I need to aim higher.” While we walk through the halls, students flurrying around us, absorbed in their own little cliques, Cory holds a finger to his temple, rubbing it around in circles, as though he could massage his brain and extract whatever he’s trying to say.
Finally he snaps his fingers.
“What is it this time?” I ask in what I hope is a slightly friendlier version of my usual apprehensive sarcasm.
“I’ll be a director in Hollywood. The biggest director. Then I’ll hire you as my star! Then we can get married.”
“Married?” I ask with eyebrows raised well above my bangs. “Where did that come from?”
Cory shrugs. “By that time we’ll be a bit older. So let’s say that I’m a director and you’re in my movie. And suppose that we’re both still single by the time we’re thirty. Why wouldn’t we just bite the bullet? Get married and get that pesky milestone out of the way.”
Cory has done a lot of wild things. He’s vowed
to train as a ninja in Japan. He’s thrown all of his birthday money into scratchers he bought at the gas station, earning him only enough winnings for a Slushie and a stale hot dog. He’s talked back to every teacher in the school, sat in detention so many times that he has his own desk, and served out two in-school suspensions. Cory is nothing if not a talker. So I interpret this outburst in exactly the same manner I’ve reacted to all of his others: with a shrug and the knowledge that he would forget all about it by tomorrow.
Chapter 6
With my only friend a fellow social pariah, and nothing in the way of fashion sense to make me stand out, about the only thing high school Augusta could do was dream. And Cory and I had created all sorts of fantasies in which we were the cool ones after high school. We might have been less than NPCs in everyone else’s world, but for us, we were always the underdog protagonists.
Still, even eighteen-year-old me hardly believed I could ever be an actress. But I must have held on to a piece of that dream, because I ended up working in television, even if it is only as an exaggerated history teacher for a public access channel.
“Hello?” Cory says, waving his hand in front of my face. He’s got that silly grin on his face again, and it’s easy to remember when he was just a kid claiming he would be the first man on Mars or something similarly unreachable.
Only now, my biggest dream has apparently just arrived in the unbelievably sexy package of my baby’s father.
“I asked if you wanted to star in my next movie, and then you just went off to La-La Land.”
