Angie groans and I smile at her annoyance. “It’s a pipe dream, B. If I close my eyes really tight then, yeah I can see it. But as soon as I open my eyes—I’m an almost college graduate with very little idea of where the road will take me when I do finish school. I don’t have a business plan, I don’t even have a business degree, or the money.”
“Okay, let’s play a game,” I tell her. “Close your eyes for real this time.” Angie rolls her eyes with a smile, but does as I tell her. “We’re ten years into the future, what do you see?”
I watch her throat move as she swallows and I’m about to open my mouth to tell her to forget about it. Because for people without depression they’ve easily made the five-year,ten-year, or even their fifteen-year plans. But Angie, I can tell, is grateful to make it to another week.
“I see me living in the city and out of the suburbs. I walk everywhere if I can or I take the subway if I need to.” Her forehead scrunches and her eyes flutter.
“What else do you see, Angel?”
“I don’t know,” she tells me shakily. “Do I have to keep playing?”
“No, Angel. You can open your eyes,” I say to her softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.”
“You didn’t,” she admits. “I used to have the biggest imagination when I was in elementary school. I dreamed of being everything from a teacher, a news anchor, a talk show host, or even a famous pianist selling out concert halls all over the world.”
I take her hand in mine and trace the life lines on my palm like she did to me. “Dreaming big. What happened?”
“The fear of my dreams not being taken as seriously as Liam’s.”
My invisible path on her palm stops and I look up at her. “What?”
“My mom said that she was sorry for not giving me the attention that she gave him. I mean, sometimes I understand why they gave him so much attention. He was the oldest and he knew what he wanted to do. Baseball was a sure thing. Everyone could see that he was destined for big things.”
“Yeah, but so were you,” I reassure her.
“Yeah,” Angie looks down at our hands and smiles, “can we talk about something else?”
Her dreams and her happiness aren’t something that should be brushed off, but for now, I let her win this. “Sure. How about we watch a movie? Or do you have to go home?”
“Yes. And no curfew for me.”
“Perfect.” I get up from the couch and turn down the lights and grab the television remotes. “Any preferences?” I ask when I sit back down on the couch. “Are we failing at this dating thing? What movies do you like?”
“I wouldn’t say we’re failing. We’re just taking it slower on the personal front,” she reassures me. “As for my favorite movies, I love the late 90s coming of age and early 2000s romantic comedies.”
“Really?” I ask incredulously.
“Yeah. Does that surprise you?” Angie asks with a chuckle.
I snort. “A little bit.”
“Let me guess…you like the old school sports movies.”
I shake my head. “No way. John Hughes movies forever.”
“Interesting. So what are we watching tonight?”
“Rock, paper, scissors you for it?” I ask.
“You’re on.”
I pressplay on another movie as Angie’s dead weight lays on top of me. Halfway through the first movie, she pushed me back and crawled on me like a teddy bear. My hands began running up and down her back in a lazy motion, and a few minutes later, she was asleep. I’ll never admit it to her, unless she tickles it out of me, but my mom and I used to watch the movies that Angie loves, so I toss an arm behind my head as the intro toNow and Thenplays on my screen.
Angie stirs thirty minutes later when the characters are playing Red Rover.
“How long was I asleep?” she asks with a sleepy voice that I find insanely attractive.
“Almost two hours,” I tell her and angle my head to look at her. Her eyes are half-open and she’s got this furrow between her brows like she’s confused about where she’s at.
