“Do you even know me at all?” I ask. “A movie night sounds like just what the doctor ordered after the last couple days I’ve had.”
She smiles, and it’s official, I’m addicted. “Okay, I guess I’ll see you after work then?”
“I can’t wait.”
____
I rushed through everything I needed to do at the office today to make sure I was home in time to go with Wren. I was a little surprised this morning that she agreed to let me tag along, but I’m excited I get to meet her family, especially her brother.
“How was work today?” I ask, climbing into her car after work to head to her parents’ house. She insisted on driving,and when I argued, she shut me down so fast that I didn’t try again.
“Same old, same old,” she says, buckling her seatbelt. “You?”
“Busy, but not terrible.”
“That’s good.” She stops at the stop sign and clicks through her phone. “Hooked On A Feeling” by Blue Swede begins to play in the car. When the street is clear, she turns out and sings along with the song, and I spend my time taking her in.
Her hair has a slight wave to it. Today she’s wearing jeans with strawberries embroidered all over them, a vintage MTV T-shirt, a light pink blazer, white sneakers, and aviators. She really is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and despite my trying, I can’t help but fall a little harder for her when she tries to hit a high note and completely misses.
“How’d you come up with this playlist?” I ask, after the song fades into “Paper Rings” by Taylor Swift.
“I just picked all the songs that make me happy,” she says, turning the music down a little. We pass The Local, and my heart skips. I still haven’t accepted or turned down Jerry’s offer. I know I shouldn’t string him along, but I keep thinking there might be a way for me to be happy and make my family proud. Maybe there is a way I could have both.
“Do you ever wish you could do something else?” I ask.
“Like my job? Yeah, all the time. Why?”
“I was just wondering. What would you do if you could do anything?”
She lets out a long breath. “Well, before Cody’s accident, I thought I’d be an artist.”
“That’s right, you mentioned that you paint and wanted to own your own studio at Donovan and Enzo’s wedding.”
“You remember that?”
I shrug. “I pay attention. Is that what you’d want to do if you could do anything?”
“Maybe in a past life,” she says wistfully. “But then he had his accident, and my dreams changed.”
“In what way?” I ask, and she hesitates, quickly looking between me and the road.
“You can trust me,” I assure her.
“I’d want to start a non-profit and run camps for people with traumatic brain injuries.”
“That sounds cool.”
“It would be so cool,” she says, her mouth forming into a wide smile. “There is something similar on the west coast, but it’s just your typical sleep away camp, which I’d love to do, but I was thinking I could also host art camps or sports camps or anything really.” She is practically glowing as she talks. “With my degree in rec therapy, I know how to modify and adapt all the activities, so everyone could participate, and I think I could get physical therapists, speech therapists, occupational therapists, and maybe even therapy students to volunteer to help me run them. My brother was so active before his injury, and now he just sits at home. I know being able to attend camp would be life-changing for him, and I think that would be really cool.”
“You’re incredible.”
Heat creeps up her neck and covers her face.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” she says.
“Yes, it is. I’ve never even thought about that. I think it’s incredible that you want to help improve the lives of so many people. I think you should do it.”
“I wish it was that simple.” She relaxes in her seat, leaning back on the head rest. “The amount of money required to start up that kind of thing is enormous, and while I’ve tried really hard to save, I’m nowhere near where I need to be.”
