Play On - Michelle Smith Page 0,83
she takes my hand, lacing her fingers through mine. Instead of starting toward the brightly lit house, she leads me into the grass, which shimmers from the night’s dew. She kicks off her shoes, and her hand slips from mine as she strolls across the lawn, staring up at the sky.
I wish there were more ways to tell her how downright gorgeous she is.
“I was thinking about Brett and Jay,” she says, turning to face me. “About how they’ll be split up next year.” She smiles sadly. “And I was thinking about how much that must suck, to find someone you’re crazy about and then tell them goodbye.”
I hadn’t even thought about that with those two. Soon they won’t have a secret keeping them apart anymore; they’ll have states. I’m not sure which is worse. Moving away from the place you’ve lived your entire life is hard enough. Add that in with moving away from the person you’re head over heels for? That sounds like a kick to the gut. I don’t know what I’d do if Marisa was going anywhere other than USC.
And I’m not stupid. I know we might not be together forever or anything, but I’ll be damned if I don’t eat up every day that we are.
I look out to the field across the street, where the wheat sways in the breeze. There’s this peacefulness that comes with Lewis Creek, with its spring nights and open skies and fields that go on for miles. There’s plenty of craziness here. There’s a lot of good, too.
Marisa sits in the grass and crosses her legs. “Do you ever get scared about next year?”
Shoving my hands into the pockets of my khakis, I cross the distance between us. I’ve had a lot of thoughts about next year, eagerness to get the heck out of this town being at the top of the list. Between that and focusing on ball and school and the girl in front of me, I don’t think I’ve had enough brain space to be scared.
I sit beside her and rest my elbows on my bent knees. Instead of answering, I ask, “Are you?”
She considers that for a minute. “A little.” She leans back on her hands. “While we were in Maryland, I think Dad convinced me to change my major from straight Chemistry to Pre-Med.”
My eyes widen. The idea of her dedicating four years to Chemistry was crazy enough. If she goes the doctor route, well, more power to her. “Wow,” is all I can say.
She lets out a breathless laugh and shakes her head. “I know. It’s nuts. Chemistry’s my thing, so I wasn’t worried about that at all. But Pre-Med brings in all the science. All of it.” She looks over at me. “All my life, I’ve watched Dad help people. And this just feels right, you know? He might be on to something. The question is whether or not I can hack it.”
We stare at each other. She’s the first to crack, bursting into laughter. “’Kay, so that was a terrible word,” she says. “But you know what I mean. And I’m trying to remind myself that things have a way of working out the way they’re supposed to. Maybe not the way we plan, but the way they’re meant to be.”
If anyone can hack it, it’s her. Just not, you know, literally. So when I tell her, “I think you can do whatever the hell you want to do,” I’m not sure I’ve meant anything more. “Anything you want is yours to take.”
She smiles and lies back in the grass, staring up at the sky. All I can stare at is her.
“Stars are kind of amazing when you think about them,” she says. “They’re always there. Even when it’s cloudy or when the sun’s shining, they’re still out there, in the universe. Sparkling.” She pats the grass. “Come down here with me.”
She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I lie back beside her, blades of grass prickling the back of my neck.
“You told me I can have whatever I want.” She turns her head, her face barely an inch from mine. “I want to help people. I want to love fearlessly. I want my heart to be so full that it’s near combustion before I go to bed every night. And I want to keep this feeling forever, this feeling of looking at you and knowing that I’m lo—” She bites her lip. “Knowing that I’m cared about.”
I love you. The