wanted me to stay. "What do you want to talk about?" I asked, pretending to be nonchalant.
"You," he said. "Who are you? What's your name?"
"I am a college student, a senior. I live in Houston. I'm here in Galveston for one day. My name is Anne Rose Kennedy, and I think I might have met your sister."
"Hello, Anne Rose Kennedy," he said, staring at me as he tried out my name. "I'm Will. How did you meet my sister?"
"That's it?"
"What's it?" he asked.
"I gave you way more than my name," I said.
He smiled. "You said you knew my sister, so I thought you knew something about me already. You want more? I ate oatmeal for breakfast. And eggs. I have my own apartment, and I still stop by my parents' a lot of the time because my dad makes breakfast."
"Your dad?" I asked, sounding surprised. I had already been told that Easy Billy Castro was his father. I had seen footage of the man in boxing matches so it surprised me to think of him cooking breakfast. "I met your sister today. Your sister is Tara, right?"
"Yeah, where'd you meet her?"
"At her studio. They were telling me about y'all's dad, and I knew he was a famous boxer, so I didn't picture him making breakfast."
"Oh, my dad does most of the cooking at the house. He loves to cook. What were you doing in my sister's studio?"
"My friend, Jennifer, works there. I was just over there a little while ago. I met your sister, and they pointed to your dad's gym and told me who you were."
"So, are you a ballerina?"
"No. I just know Jennifer from college."
"What'd you study in college?" he asked.
"Ballet," I said.
My face broke into a grin, letting him know I was joking, and he laughed like I got him for a second.
"Nutrition," I added.
He smiled and shook his head. "Why nutrition?" he asked thoughtfully. "What kind of job do you want to do with that?"
"I don't know yet," I said. "I think I can get a pretty good job as a dietitian somewhere. I honestly haven't looked into it. Mostly because it's not really what I want to do. I only got into nutrition because I wanted to be a chef."
"Why don't you just quit and go to school to be a chef instead?"
I had to smile at that. "I wanted to, but my parents talked me out of it. And I'm sure they're right. My dad worked in a restaurant for a few years during college. He was a waiter, but he said that the hours are terrible and the chefs complained about it all the time. I just can't make that work and raise a family."
"Oh, I didn't know you had a family," he said, pulling back a little.
"I don't. Not yet. But one day. You know, I'll be glad I don't have to stay out till all hours of the night, cooking for other people." I felt like my father when that sentence came out of my mouth.
"But wouldn't you rather spend bad hours doing something you love than good hours doing something you hate?"
I stared at him, blinking. I let out a little breath since I was somewhat speechless for a second. "Maybe you're right," I said. "Maybe I should have insisted that my family let me follow that dream. I think they would have supported me if I had been more disagreeable about it. But I only have one semester to go now, so I'm sort of stuck." I shrugged and smiled a little. "And I can learn to cook when I get a better job and pay for my groceries," I said with a shrug.
Will turned as my waitress came by. "Hey Ms. Diane, I'll have a cup of coffee, and two chocolate chip cookies, please." She nodded, and Will focused on me again. "Do you know how to cook at all?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.
"I know a little. I do some cooking when I can. But I only know about one percent of what I want to know. I need way more practice, for sure. I still mess up." I smiled at him. "I do love it, though, and I think I could be really good at it with more practice."
"I guess if you're not going to go to school to be a chef, nutrition is sort of the next best thing."
"Yeah, it does carry over a little bit," I said nodding. "I did learn some things I'll