Page 80 of Sunshine

Regan shimmies with excitement. “Perfect.” She looks around and waves at a handful of people before she settles her full attention on me. The corners of her mouth dip. “Uh oh.”

“What?”

“You have that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you’re having an existential crisis.”

I almost laugh. “I donot!” But she simply stares at me, leaning back in her chair as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Okay,” I concede. “Maybe a small crisis.”

“Mhmm.”

I take a sip of my sweet tea. “Do you know what you want to study in college?”

Regan nods. “Criminal justice.”

It’s the ease in which she answers that causes my chest to tighten. I sigh. “I’m having a hard time figuring out what I want.”

She tilts her head. “I thought you wanted to study journalism.”

“I do,” I say, nodding. “I just . . . I want to write about things that matter, like climate change or reproductive rights or wildlife conservation. Or, if writing doesn’t work out, I could lean on photography to capture a story. But I guess I’m just not sure how a career like that fits with everything else.”

“Fits?” she asks.

I feel my ears heat. “Jason wants me with him wherever he ends up. It kind of limits my options, not knowing where that’ll be.” It feels like an admission—the real source of my anxiety. The truth is, I’m terrified that my relationship with him goes against every belief I had before we started dating. As we all inch closer to adulthood, my life looks a lot like a version I never wanted. But Idowant to be with Jason. I don’t think I’m willing to give him up.

I would never admit it, but I almost understand my mom more now.

It’s been a year and a half since Jason left for college, and I thought I’d use our time apart to really figure things out for myself. But instead, all I do is count down the days until he comes home for breaks from school. I get so excited for every opportunity we have to see each other that I forget to be selfish with this time to myself. He’s so busy with classes and the toll of his second season as an Aggie, but he still makes time to call me every night. It’s almost as if the distance has pushed us closer together somehow, like the way we miss each other is a living, breathing thing that yearns to be fed.

“What about what you want?” Regan asks, not unkindly.

Gus swings by to drop our pizza in the middle of the table, giving me the chance to think about how to respond. As soon as walks away, I shrug. “I don’t know, Ray. I’ve always wanted to make something of myself . . . but if Jason makes it into theNFL we could end up anywhere. It’s not like I could traipse around the country to find the next burning social issue to write about. Iwantto be his wife, but I want more than that, too—I’m not sure how to realistically have it all.”

Regan blows out a breath as she pulls a slice of cheesy pizza onto her small plate. “What does Jason think about it all?”

“I know he wants me to be happy, but he’s been pretty vocal about wanting to get married after college.” I take a bite of the scalding corner of my slice, having to move it around in my mouth so it doesn’t burn my tongue before I continue. “For him, it’s simple. He gets drafted, we go wherever that takes him, and we build a life and a family together while he lives out his dreams.”

Regan eyes me. “Yeah but what about your dreams, Layla? They should matter just as much as his do, right?”

I feel my defenses rising, and I hate it. I thought talking this out would somehow make me feel better, but it’s only shining a light on what I already know—I havenoidea what I’m doing.

Later,when Jason calls, I still feel tense in my stomach.

“Do anything fun today?” he asks, his voice hushed like he’s talking to me from the corner of his room. I can almost see him hunched around the phone from where he sits on his twin bed, his back to Wells.

After my first trip to visit him at college went south, I spent a long time trying to navigate the newfound jealousy dynamic of our trio. I haven’t been back to College Station since then because of how nervous I became for something else tohappen. I know Wells and I didn’t do anything wrong, but I still think it’s better to avoid tempting fate.

For as splintered as things felt between Jason and me after that trip, he and Wells didn’t seem to skip a beat—at least from what I could tell. Even during visits home, after spending every day together at school, they still made plenty of plans together with each other and other friends from Saddlebrook Falls. I haven’t had any direct contact with Wells in almost six months, and even though Jason says he’s over it and that he believes me about nothing happening that night, I can’t help but feel like he’s keeping Wells and I apart.

“Um . . . I went to Mustang’s Pizza with Regan and talked about college plans. But other than that it’s been a pretty uneventful day,” I laugh.

“Oh?” he asks. “Did you hear back from any of the schools?”

“No,” I shake my head, as if he can see me through the phone. “I probably won’t hear anything for a few months.”

There’s a pause from his side of the line. And then he asks, “Have you thought any more about Texas A&M?”

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