“Well, you said the ticket was a birthday gift,” Sawyer explains. “And Teddy seems like a pretty stand-up guy, so I just figured he must have offered you some of it. And if you’d accepted, I probably would’ve heard about it on the news.”
“Right,” I say, picking at the crust. “That makes sense.”
“So I guess I’m just curious. What makes someone turn down millions and millions of dollars?”
I stare out into the darkness, wondering how I can even begin to answer this. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “I think it scared me a little.”
“It’s a lot of money,” he agrees.
“Teddy’s whole life has changed.”
“Some would say for the better.”
“And some would say for the worse. I wasn’t sure I wanted that to happen to me.”
It takes a great deal of effort to bite back the wordagain.But I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know anything about my past. Everything between us is still a blank canvas, and there’s something refreshing about that.
Sawyer nods, but he still looks troubled.
“What?” I ask, glancing at him sideways.
“It’s just…well, I’ve seen you at the soup kitchen. My grandma says you’re their best volunteer. And I know you do a bunch of other stuff like that too. So wasn’t there a part of you that was tempted to take it and, I don’t know, do something good with it?”
Once again I feel a wrench of sadness at this, because I know it’s what my parents would’ve done, and there’s nothing worse than feeling like I’m disappointing them even after they’re gone. I tip my head back, trying to sort through my cluttered thoughts.
“Honestly? It was just instinct, turning it down. It seemed like the right thing to do, so I did it. And most of the time I’m glad. But of course there’s a part of me that wonders…I mean, I can hardly walk into the soup kitchen without thinking of what that money could do. Or what it might’ve done for my family. I feel guiltyall the time.But I also feel insanely relieved that I didn’t take it, which only makes me feel evenmoreguilty. And then I start wishing I never bought the stupid ticket in the first place, which is also awful, because it means so much to Teddy and his mom. So yeah. You could say I’m second-guessing myself. At this point I’m second-guessing my second guesses.”
Sawyer shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a shrug. “Really. This is just kind of a weird time.”
“Well, hey, maybe Teddy will end up doing something really great with the money, and that’ll solve everything.”
“Yeah,” I say, aware of the doubt in my voice. “Maybe.”
“Are you cold?” he asks, and it’s only then I realize I’m shivering. I shake my head and zip my jacket up higher.
“I’m fine. It feels good to be outside.”
“I know,” he says, looking out over the park. “I moved here from California, so I still haven’t really gotten used to the Chicago winters.”
California,I think, closing my eyes. Even after all this time, when I hear the word, my first thought is still:Home.
“Me too,” I say quietly, and he looks at me in surprise.
“You’re from California?”
“Yes,” I say, trying to make the words sound effortless, “I lived in San Francisco till I was nine.”
He laughs. “That’s so crazy. I’m from San Jose.”
“That’s close to Stanford, right? I really want to go there next year.”
His face brightens. “That’s awesome. It’s such a good school. Definitely on my list too. They have a great history program.”
“Yeah?” I say, thinking how nice it is to talk to him about this, when it’s so hard to have the same conversation with Leo and Teddy.
“I actually had a job at the library there last summer,” he says, “which I know isn’tquitethe same as going there, but I really loved it. Have you ever been?”
