Dean said.
“I don’t know if I’m gonna get into RISD. You’ll probably get into Harvard, but do you even wanna go there?”
Dean looked like I’d wounded him, but I didn’t know why. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s an amazing school.”
“I’m not saying it’s not, but—”
“Do you not want to keep seeing me after the election?” he asked abruptly.
“Of course I do.”
“Then why are you acting like you don’t?”
I rolled over on my back and stared at the ceiling, blowing out a sigh of frustration. “Because I’m happy now, Dean. I’m happy right this moment, and I want to keep being happy, but talking about the future makes me think about all the shit that could conspire to keep us apart. I also applied to School of the Art Institute of Chicago, SCAD, MassArt, and Columbia, and I bet you probably have applications at all the Ivy Leagues. We could wind up in schools that aren’t a quick train ride apart.”
Dean brushed a curl off my forehead. “We would still find a way to be together.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I hope so, Dean, but I don’t know, and I don’t want to think about it until I have to because I don’t want to ruin today by worrying about tomorrow.”
Dean leaned in and kissed me. “You win. Tomorrow can wait.”
Dean
IT WAS DIFFICULT to watch Dre arguing with Mindy or talking to Tamal and pretend I didn’t want to slide my arm around his waist and kiss him. It was painful to watch Tamal and Astrid holding hands, and to see Dre notice them holding hands, and not be able to hold Dre’s hand. I was used to being reserved, but I didn’t want to be reserved when it came to Dre. No matter how much we disagreed or what we disagreed on, I still felt like we spoke a language no one else spoke. That we shared a bond no one else shared. If a time traveler had arrived from the future and told me that I was considering basing my college plans on which school would allow me to see Dre the most, I would have laughed. But that’s exactly what I had been doing while I had held him in my bed. Dre might have been able to live in the moment and enjoy it without knowing what the future might hold, but doing so was more difficult for me. I couldn’t predict every possible outcome, but I could do my best to make sure as many of those potential futures as possible included Dre.
“McMann’s going to win,” Mindy was saying. We were sitting around the patio table, eating pizza. The night was nice and cool and Tamal had been hinting he thought we should take a dip in the hot tub.
“No way!” Dre said. “He’s like twenty naked mole rats in a saggy skin suit. He can’t win.”
Mindy rolled her eyes. “Do you really think your dad is going to fix anything? He’s a politician just like the rest. Corporations control both parties. There’s hardly any difference between them.”
I raised my hand. “I beg to differ.”
“Thank you,” Dre said.
“There are plenty of differences between the parties,” I went on, but Mindy cut me off before I could finish.
“On the surface,” she said. “It’s all on the surface. One side wants to tell women what they can and can’t do with their bodies, the other side wants to tell people what they can and can’t say. Both sides are trying to play the victim, but neither side is actually doing a damn thing to help anyone.”
Dre snorted. “And McMann will?”
“No,” Mindy said. “He’ll probably blow it all up.”
“And you think that’s a good thing?” Astrid asked. “What about all the people who’ll be hurt? I was barely old enough to remember it, but my parents lost their house the last time someone blew it all up.”
“Sometimes tearing a thing down is the only way to fix it.”
Astrid fixed Mindy with a contemptuous glare. “Easy for you to say. Your folks are rich.”
Mindy shrugged, unfazed by the anger directed at her. “When we tear the world down, money will be meaningless.”
“Mindy Maguire, teen anarchist.” I shook my head and tried to diffuse the tension. “Pastor Duncan would be appalled.”
Mindy rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“Besides,” Dre said. “McMann won’t win.”
“Exactly,” I said. “My mom’s going to win.”
“Ha! My dad’s got this.”
“In his dreams.”
Tamal raised his hand. “Can we talk about anything else?”
Astrid perked up. “Yes! I actually want to hear more about Dreadful Dressup. How did you