“That’s what I wanted to capture; the urgency of the game, the adrenaline and power.”
I glanced up at her, fighting a smirk. “Steady there, you’re starting to sound like a true fan.”
She blushed. “I guess he’s rubbing off on me.”
“Admit it, you love it.” Pre-Cameron, I’d had to drag Hailee to her first game and she’d spent the whole time complaining. But now, my girl was on the way to becoming the Raiders number one fan. And I couldn’t blame her. If I got to watch Cameron play, knowing he was mine, I’d be converted too.
“So can I see another?” I asked, eyeing the other canvasses, the paintings they contained all hidden with sheets.
“You really think it’s good enough?”
“Babe, it’s amazing. You’re so talented. I wish I had your kind of natural ability... at anything.”
“Flick, come on, you’re good at stuff.”
I snorted. “Hardly. Name one thing I’m good at?” Hailee tapped her lips, pondering it for too long. “See,” I added, “Nothing.”
“You like reading.”
“So does half the population.” I rolled my eyes.
“And you’ve been really good at stepping out of your comfort zone lately.”
“I don’t think they have a society for that at college, Hails.”
“You like lists.”
True. I did. Lists kept me organized; reminded me of things I needed to do. Lists for the grocery store. Lists of the celebrities I crushed on. Not to mention my senior year bucket list.
Lists made me happy.
“You’re right. I am an excellent maker of the lists. It’s an undervalued talent for sure.”
“Oh come on.” She nudged my shoulder. “You know what I mean. Just because you’re not really good at one thing doesn’t mean you’re not good at lots of little things.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” My smile was forced, the knot in my stomach tightening.
It wasn’t that I was jealous of Hailee, I wasn’t. She was gifted and I was excited for the Seniors Night unveiling. For her. But it only heightened my self-awareness of how lacking I was. It was senior year. The year of college applications and chasing future dreams. A future my parents had all planned out for me since the womb. They wanted me to follow family tradition; attend UPenn, get my business degree and work some white-collar job in the city.
Before senior year, I would have happily gone along with their plans. Because it was better than the alternative—no plan. But I was restless. A little voice whispering in my ear that if I went to UPenn and studied business and graduated ready to enter the big old world of white-collar employment, I’d regret it. It had been quiet before, easy to ignore, but now it was growing louder, a constant noise making itself heard.
That’s how my senior year bucket list had first spawned. If I was going to pursue my parents’ dream for me; instead of riding the bumpy road of uncertainty, I wanted to go out with a bang. Make senior year the best it could be.
1. Take up a new hobby
2. Cut class
3. Attend a pep rally
4. Skinny dip down at the lake
5. Fall asleep under the stars
6. Go to a party at Asher Bennet’s house
7. Drink (actual liquor) at Bell’s
8. Go to Winter Formal… with a date (not a girlfriend)