I only nod, keeping my mouth shut. It doesn’t matter what he says. He can’t possibly understand. He doesn’t know what’s inside my chest when I look at Ember. Tight and full, ready to explode at any minute.
“You’re young,” he continues. “I know that’s not what you want to hear, but it’s true. You’ve been given the opportunity you’ve worked for your whole life. Don’t take it lightly.” He picks up his cereal bowl and peers into it, his lips turning down slightly. I’m sure it’s soggy by now.
He walks from the kitchen, pausing just before he steps into the next room. “Nothing lasts forever, Noah. That’s all I’m saying.”
He’s wrong. He doesn’t know Ember. Doesn’t know Ember and metogether. We’re not a typical teenage romance. We’re deeper, better, moreeverything. There aren’t proper words to describe how perfect Ember and I are together. Or how wrong my father is.
We’re going to work out.
We have to.
* * *
“I love it here.”The words tumble from Ember’s lips.
Sunshine, breeze, birds talking in the trees. I think I needed our spot at the lake as much as she did today. She lays back on the blanket I brought. Her eyes are closed, and she breathes in deeply. Her chest rises, falling back down when she exhales.
“Ember, I love you.”
She opens an eye, looks at me, and blinks after a moment. “And I you.”
I lay my head back down onto folded forearms, but remain silent.
“You want to talk about it?” Her voice curls into the folds of my arms.
Ember already told me she’s not going to come with me to Stanford, but I won’t give up so easily.
“I’m brainstorming ways to make you change your mind.” My voice is muffled.
“Noah,” Ember sighs my name, and it sounds like a tired warning. “We’ve been through this.”
“I’m not giving up.” Sitting up, I look at her. “I won’t go.”
She sits up too, her eyes alarmed. “You better be kidding.”
“I’m not. I won’t go.”
“Noah, you’re not thinking clearly. Of course you’re going to go. Stanford offered you a spot.Stanford. The college of your dreams.”
“Soccer won’t last forever. You’re my forever.”
Ember shakes her head. “No way. Not happening.”
Her absolution frustrates me. “What’s the real problem, Ember?”
“We’ve already discussed the real problem.”
“No. I want to know why you’re not coming with me. Why you’re not eventrying.”
“I can’t, Noah! I can’t. My mom needs help. Real help. You don’t have the problems I have, and to be realistic, they’re not even problems. They’re roadblocks. She said the economy has been squeezed, and the first thing people do is cut the excess. Restaurants, gym memberships,cleaning ladies.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what to say. The threadbare couch, the chipped wood coffee table, plates that don’t match. It’s clear Ember’s mom isn’t exactly raking it in.And all that dried pasta in the cabinet. Until now, I didn’t realize why a cabinet full of pasta and canned goods struck me as odd.
Our fridge is loaded with wild-caught fish and grass-fed meat. Organic vegetables and non-GMO pasture-raised eggs. Our bread might as well have been breathed on by angels.
“What does this mean for you?” I hate that we have to talk about this. I hate that her circumstances are different from mine. I even hate that mine are different from hers. I never thought I’d resent my comfortable lifestyle, but in this moment I do.
“It means I need to get another job. Put all college on the back burner, even community. Not forever. Just for now.”
