Lies We Share (Lies 0.50)

“I know.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore tonight. Tomorrow is for goodbyes and tears; tonight is for making memories.”

“Yea, we should enjoy our last night before you move.”

“What should we talk about?” I take another bite of my Snickers bar, savoring each bite.

He lays back on the blanket.

I do as well.

We stare up at the sky, now shades of orange and red—the last moments before the sun sets.

“About a future that we can control. One where we aren’t poor. One where we can live the life we want.”

I frown as I look over at him. “But we never dream. What’s the point?”

“The point is that the one benefit of my new life is that I just might be able to get us the life we want someday.”

I take the last bite of my Snickers bar. He does the same.

Langston is so optimistic. His life might change for the better, but I’m destined to be stuck in this town

forever.

I just smile at Langston. I don’t care what we talk about tonight. I only want to spend it with him.

“You start. What do you want, killer?”

“First, I want everyone to call me killer. I want to be the strongest badass I know. I want to be in complete control and be able to take on any foe.”

As he speaks, I know that will someday come true.

“What about you?” he asks.

I stretch my arms up and place them behind my head, thinking about a question I’ve never thought before. Most eight-year-olds have already thought about what they want to be when they grow up. They dream of becoming doctors, teachers, president, astronauts. I just dream of a day when I won’t have to worry if the meal I just ate is going to have to last me days or hours.

“I just want to live in a world where I have enough money to buy as much food as I want and have a real bed in my own bedroom.”

“That’s not a dream. That’s going to happen. Dream bigger. What job do you want?”

“Lawyer,” I answer automatically. That seems like the kind of job where you can make a change in other people’s lives.

“Where do you want to live? Beach, mountains, city?”

“Definitely the beach.” I like Miami’s warm weather. I can’t imagine living anywhere else.

“Me too. The mountains are too cold, and the city is too busy. I want to live on my own private island.”

My eyebrows raise. “We’re really dreaming big.”

“Absolutely. But I can’t figure out what I want my house to look like.”

“Ooh, I can help with that. It should be big and made of glass,” I say as I relax my arms to my side again.

“Glass? Doesn’t that mean it will be easier to break?”

I laugh. “No, it will be full of light. You’ll have views of the ocean from every room.”