my best friend Julia’s pestering, but the most we ever did was hold hands. Which worked out in my favor in the end. If I didn’t have a crush on Endymion and if I was wasting my time dating in high school, I’m positive I wouldn’t have gotten into Caltech. I’d always had a strong interest in science, and since my dad was obsessed with all things engineering, I found myself gravitating toward the subject throughout high school. I was captain of the Academic Pentathlon Club, vice president of the student body, a member of the debate team, and I worked for the student newspaper, too. I made sure I was involved in enough clubs and extracurriculars to be college ready, and after all the studying, it’s finally paid off.
I’m proud of myself for getting into one of the top ten schools in the US, but a small part of me is bummed I won’t be studying anything in literature that has to do with mythology—more precisely, the moon. There is no career in that. Hell, I know this, but it doesn’t make the reality of it any easier. Sometimes in life you have to compromise, letting go of the things you love for the things that make sense. I’ll have a good life with a career in chemical engineering. I enjoy the science aspect of it, so I’m sure, with a little patience, I’ll be fine settling. I’m sure the money won’t be too bad either.
When the arguing between my parents starts up again, this time about an overdraft fee in their shared bank account, I leave the house without a word. It is easier to leave and pretend everything is okay than it is to stay and try to make myself believe love is a real, tangible thing. It isn’t. Love is a destroyer. It destroys everything in its path. I’m only eighteen, and after watching my parents, I know this. After pining after a guy who’s never noticed me, I know this better than anyone. Love is blind. And fucking stupid. It’s an emotion I refuse to waste my time on.
With my hands tucked into my jean pockets, I walk along the sidewalk toward the creek. Sometimes I like to sit out by the creek and stare at the water, listening to the small ripples lap at each other. Here in Dunsmuir, the waterfalls are a tourist favorite, but I prefer the hidden gems not many people know about like the creek. Hidden in the hillside a few blocks away from my house, the creek is beautiful in the winter. It freezes over and inches of snow cover the long blades of grass on the banks. It’s a winter wonderland. It’s beautiful to look up at the mountaintops and see the snow-peaked ridges and the pines covered with white and surrounded by a fine mist.
In the summertime, like tonight, it’s the opposite. A slight breeze is enough to keep the sweat from rolling down my spine. The air smells of fresh grass, and in the creek, the lily pads float, crickets chirp, and the silver glow of the moon highlights the water, reflecting the sky.
With my backside perched in the grass, I lean back on my elbows and stare up at the sky to gaze at the moon. From here, I can make out the divots and dark spots. By the size and shape, I’d say tonight is a waxing gibbous. The waxing gibbous is usually the adjustment and refining period. Just as in many aspects of life, things don’t always work out the way we plan or want them to, and with this phase of the moon, it helps you realize what you need to re-evaluate—so to speak—to give up or to change direction on whatever it was you set as your intention. During the waxing gibbous, you have to give in to change, you have to change course and sacrifice what you want for what you need.
I stare up at the bright silver light and change course on my intentions, no longer resisting the change I’ve been fighting. For so long, I thought my place was here in Dunsmuir. I thought for so long I wanted one boy to love me back, but I see now that it was never meant to happen. It’s time I accept the fact that those desires will never come to fruition. Instead, I think about my desires for the future, in college and with my family. I brush all