There was a picture that looked close enough to my car. I began cutting it out.
I looked further into the magazine and continued ripping page after page. A list of Michelin-starred restaurants. Then I caught sight of a limited-edition Rolex. My breath snagged for a minute as I glimpsed a penthouse with a view of a cityscape, and I debated a moment before adding it to my board.
After several minutes, I peeked over at Marissa as she thumbed through the pages of a magazine. She hadn’t torn out anything. She tossed the magazine to the side and watched everyone around her laugh and splash color on their boards.
“Focus on where you picture yourself in five, ten, or twenty years. Let the process take over.” The teacher threw her hands in the air.
Marissa picked up some colored pencils and hovered over the board, staring at it. She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead.
“Hey, are you okay?” I set down my scissors and glue.
The teacher came to Marissa’s side. “You okay, love?”
“Yep.”
Marissa opened her eyes and smiled, but the teacher must have seen through the facade.
“It becomes harder to dream the older we get. Life gets muddier and harder to see through. Maybe don’t focus too far ahead.” She put a hand on Marissa’s shoulder. “Or, sometimes exploring our fears can tell us just as much. Try not to judge the process. Just do whatever speaks to you at this moment.”
Marissa nodded and picked up a green colored pencil. I grabbed my scissors and paste and began making a collage of ideas about the future.
After about thirty minutes, the teacher made her way to the front of the room. “Alright class, now this part is different. I want you to write some words on your board about how your future makes you feel, or you can make a wish for your future self.” She turned and pointed to a section of the table with highlighters, markers, and pencils. “Words are powerful, and this is a space to dream and pretend. Reach for the stars!” The woman resembled Ms. Frizzle as she handed out stickers, highlighters, and stencils to random groups.
Hmm, what words did I want to represent my life?
Prestigious.
Recognized.
Proud.
Important.
I looked at the board covered in my future. It was perfect, and I was so close, I could almost taste it.
I looked over at Marissa’s. But before I could glance at the words she wrote, she tilted it away from me.
“Hey.” She glared. “Eyes on your own paper.” At least her pencil was moving. I worried maybe her poster would end up blank.
At the end of class, we thanked the teacher and left. Marissa pressed her canvas against her body as we walked into the parking lot.
“Well, any clues for London?” I walked next to her as we headed towards her car.
“Hm, nope. Sorry.” She shrugged.
“Well, can I see it? It might help give me some ideas.”
She stepped further away from me.
“It’s not a big deal . . . it was for fun. Plus, I’m curious.”
“Then show me yours.”
I turned my canvas so it faced her, and watched as she scrutinized my future. Would she be proud of my dreams? Or think I was vain?
“Looks like you know what you want.” She gave a nod as she stepped closer. Her finger traced along the different objects. “I hate to break it to you, but working in Hillsdale won’t get you most of these.”
I chuckled. “True. My dad believes things will justwork out.” I emphasized with air quotes. “But I think you know my feelings about Fate.” Would this hurt my chances with Carol if I were honest with her? I might need to tread carefully. “I don’t plan on staying here forever. I never planned to be here at all though . . .”
