Dreams

"I've been thinking..." I say while reaching into the cooler and retrieving a bottle of lemonade. Conrad stops aimlessly strumming his guitar for a second and looks up at me, that irresistible smirk planted on his face.

"Oh no. You've been thinking?"

I slap his arm playfully, "Oh be quiet. Don't you want to hear what I've been thinking?"

He starts playing a song again, but it's not one I've ever heard before - and he keeps stumbling through it, trying to hear what sounds right. "Of course. What thought has graced the mind of my beautiful girlfriend?"

I blush and look up at the moon rising above the silvery ocean water and then to the stars poking holes in the darkness. "Do you believe in fate?"

I can feel Conrad's eyes on me, "What do you mean?"

Turning to him, I respond, "You know...like everything happens for a reason."

He cocks his head to the side, considering this. "I don't know, I've never really thought about it."

His fingers continue to move over the guitar strings, perfectly, gracefully, swiftly - the sweet acoustic music pouring out around us. I reach out and brush my fingers against his, his eyes closing in response.

I laugh quietly, looking up at the stars again. We had been here since sunset, almost three hours already, and we still haven't run out of things to talk about or do. Being with Conrad just wasn't boring.

"Tell me if this is too deep for first-date material but..." I pause, playing with the hem of my shorts, "I don't know, I just feel like our long time high school sweethearts cheated on us with each other because...because it put us back on the market, so to speak. That way when we met each other, we could be together - no strings attached." I say and draw a heart in the sand before moving to wipe it away from my hand. "Does that make any sense?"

Conrad's hand stops me from erasing my drawing and instead draws "S & C" in the heart. I look up at him and he cups my chin in his hand, "It makes sense...I think."

I laugh, "I guess we'll find out, huh?"

He smiles, "So. Do you want to hear my song? I've been working on it all day and I think I finally have it. Well the music aspect. The lyrics...not so much."

I nod, "Bring it on."

Conrad nervously cracks his fingers and poises his hands over the correct strings. After a second, he finally begins to play. The music is soft, the notes dancing around our heads in the hot summer air. They bounce off the nighttime sky, back to us; off of the ocean water to the fish below - serenading all living things around us. The noise of his fingers changing chords rings in perfect time of the music and too soon, he ends the song.

I hadn't noticed that I had closed my eyes and when I opened them, I took in Conrad's expectant expression. "So?"

"You wrote that?"

He nods while placing the guitar back against the cooler. I put my lemonade next to me on the blanket and stare at Conrad, "Are you going to Berkeley or something? You have talent, Con. Not gonna lie."

"I wish I was going to Berkeley, but I'm...not going to college. One, I don't have the cash for it, and two...I just - I don't see myself being a college student."

I sigh, "Then...what are your plans? For life, I mean."

He lies down and opens his arms before I fall into them, both of us staring up at the stars. "I don't know, you know? I'm still trying to figure it out. I can still go to college, either late admission or next year, or make money off of my paintings but I wouldn't make enough off of those to live..."

"You paint, too?" I ask, finding the Big Dipper hidden among all the other stars around it - disguising it from me as quickly as I found it.

I can feel him shrug, "A bit, mostly landscapes and stuff. Some portraits. Nothing too fancy. What are you going to college for? Lawyer? Doctor?"

I laugh, "I'm glad you have such high hopes for me. My parents want me to go into something like that - a career that guarantees you a good salary, a well-planned existence. But I don't." I lean on my elbow and look down to Conrad. "Those jobs are boring. I want to be...an astronaut. An award-winning author. President of the United freaking States. I want a job I love because it's something I want to do for the rest of my life. Not a mind-numbing activity that gives good money."

"You can be anything you want," Conrad says, "You can be a goddamn bird if you want."

"Really?" I ask, a smiling threatening to pull at my lips.

"You can be...an astronaut. Or an award-winning author. Or President of the United freaking States. You can be a janitor. You can be an artist, or a scientist, or a musician. Don't let anyone tell you what to be alright? It's your choice, and your's alone." He pauses and smiles at me, "I envy your individuality, your spirit. Don't let it burn out, Sara."

I was speechless, my voice caught in my throat and thoughts all mangled in my mind. What was I supposed to say? I just looked into those caramel eyes and got lost in them, remembering that day we met on the bench outside of Hollister - watching Stan draw.

"I want...I don't know. What do I want?" Conrad watched me patiently as I rearranged the right words in my head. "I want to lay here with you, and watch the stars spin around us. I want to memorize every detail of this summer and not think about Dartmouth coming up this fall. I want to just be here with you."

Conrad leaned up and let his lips brush against mine, "I can do that. Because that's what I want, too."

So that's what we did.

*

I reluctantly undid my seat belt and climbed out of the car, leaning in the open window to kiss Conrad goodnight just one more time. "Good night," he whispered.

It was nearly midnight and both of us were exhausted but pleased with our first official date. "I've got tomorrow off, do you want to do something?"

Conrad drums his fingers on the steering wheel, "How does movie marathon, my amazing cooking, and..." he pauses, "Well, I'll think of something else eventually. But how does that sound?"

I smile, "As long as I get to pick some of the movies."

He grins, "Deal. Noon sound good for you?"

"Can't wait." I whisper, slowly backing away from his car. I skip up the driveway and up the porch steps before unlocking my front door and waving one last time to Conrad as he pulls out.

My sandals are looped through my fingers as I meander my way through the dark living room and toward the stairs. A lazy, care-free smile and plastered on my face as I replay tonight's events and I honestly cannot remember a day that has ever been this great.

There's a slight snoring sound from the couch in the living room and I freeze, turning to look and see who had fallen asleep during a baseball game or one of the many movies that were always on TV during the summer.

A dark silhouette formed a mass on the couch and it was then I recognized my father. His pillow was thrown haphazardly under his head and a blanket was draped over his legs. He was still in a suit and tie, his dress shoes on the floor beside him.

I looked at him, not understanding why he was sleeping on the couch instead of with mom, and just as a thought hit me, the kitchen light turned on. How coincidental.

Walking in, I saw my mother searching through the refrigerator a bathrobe tied loosely around her.

"Mom?"

She jumped even though my voice was no louder than a whisper and she turned to me, her eyes red. From crying.

Anger built up inside me. My father so did not take my mother out for a fancy dinner in order to ease her anger when he told her he was cheating on her. No, even he wouldn't do that.

"We'll talk in the morning," she said, her voice empty. Broken. "Some things are going to change around here."

I swallowed and made a move to hug her, "Oh, Mom..."

She put her hands up defensively, "No. Now go get washed up and get yourself in bed. It's late."

She turned her back to me and rested her hands on the counter for support. Her body practically folded into itself, only hanging on to existence by a thread before it broke and completely disappeared completely.

I knew dad had caused this. And dad said that he cared for her? That he loved her?

He didn't know what love was.