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“There are other schools. What about NYU? They have an art program. We can?—”
“I’m not going to New York. I’ve decided.”
A beat passes. “Where then?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
“But…”
“But nothing. New York is you and Izzy and Waylon’s dream.” I press a hand to my chest. “Not mine.”
Eyes creasing, he says, “What’s your dream then?”
You. You’re my dream.
His gaze burrows into mine, bright, and yet somehow so, so deep. Like I could see right through to that chaotic brain of his, where there’s no doubt music notes and lyrics scrawled across every inch of space.
Can he see through me too? See through all the bold lines and shadows that hide what’s underneath.
“I don’t know,” I tell him, “maybe somewhere warm, like California. Maybe I won’t even go to art school.”
“But that’s your dream.”
Then why did you even ask? I wonder.
“Is it though? We’re seventeen. It’s ridiculous that we have to decide our entire lives so young.”
He winces.
“No offense,” I mutter.
“No. It’s… You’re not wrong,” he says into a nod. “It is kind of ridiculous. To think we’ll still be the same people we are five years from now.”
“Do you ever—” I quickly cut myself off.
He arches me a knowing look. “What, have doubts?”
I give a small nod.
His mouth twitches and he looks away.
Wincing, I say, “Sorry. It’s none of my?—”
“No, I told you. We’re friends. Friends talk about shit.” He levels his gaze with mine. “But Izzy’s your sister. It’s different when it’s you telling me not to tell her something. I don’t want to…put you in any tough positions.”
My eyes widen. “Wait, are you saying?—”
“Shit,” he mutters, wincing. “No, no, that sounded bad. It’s not like I want to break up with her or anything. I don’t. I just…”
My heart pounds.
“Lately, sometimes, I just…I wonder, you know? Not just about her, but piano and school and everything. We’re seventeen. It is ridiculous, to have it all figured out this young.” Grimacing, he glances away. “I don’t know. It’s probably just senior year nerves. College stress.”
“Right,” I murmur.
“Anyway.” He clears his throat. “See,” he says, gesturing between us. “We can talk about this stuff, okay?”
Says the guy deflecting and changing the subject…
