“Night,” I say, moving to unlock my ride. There’s no way I’m saying it was nice to meet her.
“This might be totally out of line, but maybe you’d like to get a coffee sometime, just to make Ryan profoundly uncomfortable?”
I smirk and give her my cell number. “I could be persuaded.”
“It won’t be for a while. Like you said earlier, I don’t sleep much. Which kinda makes it hard to have a normal social life.”
“I’m finding it impossible to imagine Ryan as a booty call.”
Cassie smiles slowly. “We had our problems, but … never that.”
Uh. Wow.
Since I don’t want to imagine Ryan having sex, I end the conversation by swinging onto my bike. With a wave, I take off down the sidewalk. I don’t look back. Cassie wasn’t like I thought she’d be either; I figured she must be sophisticated, but in fact, she didn’t seem much more together than me. She’s just a person, working hard, trying to save for college. On bad days, I imagine she’s sad and exhausted; on good ones, she probably sees the light at the end of the tunnel, where she’ll have enough cash to attend classes full time for a while. It’s kind of revelational to realize that graduation doesn’t also mean receiving all the answers. This is also depressing. I imagine being fifty-eight years old, still with no idea what the heck is going on.
As I ride home, I consider. Some of my friends, like Ryan, know what they want; he has his future all mapped out. He’s going to MIT, where he’ll major in computer science. Others, like Conrad, are still living at home, three years after graduation, and he doesn’t seem to have any plans at all. I fall somewhere in between. I definitely intend to go to college, and basically, my decision will be driven by the school that offers me the best scholarship. There’s a college in Maine that I would love to attend; I’ve crunched the numbers and if I keep my grades up, I could earn a presidential scholarship at Unity, plus if I factor Aunt Gabby’s income, I’ll be eligible for some financial aid, too. We’re doing okay, but we’re not rich. If I do well on the SAT, it’ll probably cost around eight grand a year, which would be sweet. I’d love to finish college without any student loans.
Before I know it, I’m turning down the drive to my house. Two and a half miles isn’t that far, and it’s still before nine. By this point I’m starving, though, so I can’t wait to see what’s for dinner. Oh my God, yum. She’s made one of my favorite dishes, stuffed peppers.
“I’m home,” I call.
“Good day?” My aunt’s already eaten, judging by the plate beside her on the coffee table. I grab it and take it to the kitchen, then pull my plate out of the oven.
With a contented sigh, I plop down at the end of the sofa and then eat about half of my stuffed peppers, before remembering to praise her cooking. I’m afraid if I don’t, she’ll start doing takeout all the time. “This is so good. Uhm. Just so you know, we’re apparently having a small party on Sunday.”
“How small?”
“Like seven guests. We’re having lasagna.”
She cocks her head, thinking. “I have plans on Friday, but if you do the shopping on Saturday, we can put a couple of pans of lasagna together that night, and then bake them right before your friends come over on Sunday.”
“Plans, huh? UPS Joe strikes again?”
Her cheeks color. “Just call him Joe.”
“Noted. It’s awesome you’re letting me do this. I’d hate to tell everyone tomorrow that it’s not on, after they ask their parents and everything.”
“Next time, I’d appreciate more notice, but … this is a momentous occasion.”
“It is?”