I Found a Reason

I was practically asleep, but I didn't care. I was so worn out lately; not just tired, but it felt like I was doing so much to try and be happy with life, but it seemed like everything I did was just pointless and meaningless. But this is the life you chose for yourself, I told myself. Taking on so much at one time, that had been my choice for my direction in life. I mean, I like my life and couldn't see it any other way, don't get me wrong, but at the same time, I'm so tired all the time, I feel like there has to be something more...

My phone vibrating and jolting my leg forced me to open my eyes. I stared at my pocket groggily for a moment. Then I finally pulled it out and stared bleary-eyed at the new text.

Come over.

I groaned and pushed the newspaper in front of me away; I should have been memorizing a script or doing homework, but instead I was wasting my time half-sleeping and looking through the classifieds, because the acting jobs were trickling in more and more slowly, and I was almost sick of playing music in bars. I finally realized my big dreams were unrealistic, and I needed a job, one that could help me keep paying for college until I finished my degree and could get a job in social services. Obviously that wasn't my first choice of what I wanted to do with my life, but since I was so late taking college courses thanks to my aforementioned big dreams that weren't turning out how I'd planned or wanted, I decided I needed to do something with my life to give back instead of sit around waiting for something to happen and feeling like it was all meaningless. Helping foster children—and it's also fitting, since Foster is my name—find homes sounded much better than nursing or business. But I wasn't sleeping nights now, because I still had some productions to act in and bars to play in and homework, of course. And, I won't even lie, I did like to have fun and go out to the club more often than once in a while.

And now Trent wanted me to come over.

I was so tired, I felt like doing absolutely nothing but sleeping, let alone “hang out” with someone. On the other hand, I rarely got to see him. No, Trent was not my boyfriend. Our relationship was complicated at best. He was a good friend, yet more than a friend on occasion, but the official title was still just “good friend”. “Friends with benefits”, if you will, but no sex. We had an “agreement”, because I liked being single and wasn't a commitment type of girl, but I also liked being in someone's arms, and vice versa. It was a fun compromise.

I was pretty fatigued, and I had so much I needed to do. I decided I'd go say hi while Trent was in town though. I wouldn't stay long enough to mess around at all.

I grabbed an old large Allen D. Nease High Football pullover hoodie from high school that still fit; even though I was 24 now, I hadn't gained any weight, and I'd only gotten slightly taller than in my high school days, and I'd learned larges tended to fit practically forever.

I left my apartment and decided just to walk to Trent's; it wasn't that far, and I never had any luck at all catching a cab. I lived in New York now, so very different from Florida, but I'd adapted okay. I never really spoke to my family anymore, because they didn't support my moving and my “career choice”. But I was better off without them anyway, without my mom's oppressiveness. She'd be happy with this new sort-of direction I was taking my life, not that it mattered to me.

There were so many interesting things—shops, businesses—here. I walked with my head down, shielding against the drizzle that had just begun. I looked up slightly at just the right coincidental moment—I was right in front of an electronics store, with about a hundred TVs on display in the front window. And on those TVs was none other than Timothy Richard Tebow.

I smiled slightly to myself. Tim had become a huge football star; I always knew he would. He was one of the greatest players I'd seen, and I'd watched many a football game for a long while before he even came around.

I stopped and looked at the colorful displays, even though I couldn't hear anything. It must have been a news story about him, because it flashed to different images, Tim at a press conference, Tim on the field, Tim doing charity work with children, Tim “Tebowing”. That was my favorite; it was something he'd done since high school, but now that he was in the NFL it was a sensation, even though all he was doing was sincerely praying. Still the same good-hearted genuine person I knew in high school. And still just as gorgeous. No, more, my head said, and I made myself stop going in that direction. Tim Tebow was famous. He had girls like Katy Perry and Kim Kardashian vying for his love. I couldn't even make a name for myself. I doubted he even remembered Foster Conroy.

He loves children; he'd be proud of where you're taking your life too. I smiled again. I probably looked like a crazy fangirl, standing out here in front of the TVs just staring at Tim Tebow. Then again, that was definitely not the craziest thing on the sidewalks in New York. But everything else... He would definitely not approve. I frowned now. My head needed to shut up. What the heck did I care what Timothy Richard Tebow would think of me?

My phone consistently buzzing again in my pocket broke me out of my reverie. I scowled when I saw who the multiple texts were from.

Mom.

We need you home. Now.