I hesitated, suddenly remembering.
“Exactly,” she interjected. “So we’re adding it to the list!”
“Fine.” I shook my head and added it.
She stared at me. “What else?”
We sat in silence for at least a minute. “Um… stay up all night and watch the sunrise?”
“We can do better than that,” she encouraged. “This needs to be a list of things that will shake things up in your life. Like I told you last month, these lists are to remind us of who we were and who we’ve become.”
I was checking the time on my phone when a text popped across the screen.
Lamar Anderson:Since you’re not feeling Chance, I’m taking you to Spring Hill tomorrow. Let me know if eleven is good for you.
I stared at the message for a moment.
We’d briefly texted last night. I told him I’d made it home, and he confirmed that he had as well. We said good night and that we’d speak on the next day, ahead of our Sunday plans. I’d gone to bedwith a smile on my face. But staring at his message, I didn’t know what to say.
What was I thinking? I can’t leave my aunt and go off with some man I just met. I should tell him no.
“Stop, Jazmyn.”
My aunt’s exasperated tone forced my eyes from my phone. When I met her gaze, she was studying me.
“Stop,” she repeated.
Shifting uncomfortably, I tucked my phone between my thighs. “Stop what?”
“Stop overthinking.”
My eyes widened slightly. The way she always seemed to read my mind was uncanny.
“Explore a new city,” I blurted.
“That’s a good one. A little safe, but good. Give it here.” She outstretched her right hand until I situated the notepad on her thigh and put the pen in her right hand. “I’ll make your list.”
“Aunt Addy,” I protested with a laugh.
“Throw out some suggestions, and I’ll add the suitable ones.”
Shaking my head in amusement, I did as I was told.
After her rejecting my ideas and throwing out some outlandish ones of her own, my resulting list was a perfect blend of semi-attainable goals and absolutely wild aunt-inspired shenanigans.
“There’s no way I’m going to be able to do everything this summer,” I argued, after she added the seventh item on the list.
She can’t be serious!
Aunt Addy stared at the flowers that lined the back of the room with a contemplative look on her face. “Fine. You have until the end of the year—eleven fifty-nine P.M. on New Year’s Eve.”
My jaw dropped. “You’re serious?!”
“I am.” Looking down at what she’d written, she nodded. “One, explore a new city because you need to stop and smell the roses. Two and three, get a belly ring and dye your hair for the twelve-year-old you because you wanted to and got scared. Four, get a tattoo for the pain thirty-year-old you has experienced and overcome. Five, go to a Monarchs game because you love it and haven’t been in years. Six,finally write your book because it’s your dream. Seven, learn how to swim because you’ve put that off long enough as well.” She stared at me. “What’s eight?”
“Vegetarian diet for a month,” I answered.
She frowned. “Why? You love burgers.”
