Page 118 of Better Than Gelato
I try to push down the defensive feelings rising in me. I’m not entirely successful.
“I have a life in California,” I say. “It’s not an Ivy League life, but it’s a life I love. One I’ve spent time and effort building.”
Jake blows out a long breath, clearly frustrated.
“I don’t know why you won’t at least consider it. It would make things so much easier for us. It’s not like I can move to California.”
I look him in the eyes. “And I would never ask you to. Because I know this is your dream, and you worked hard to get here.”
He looks away.
“I know my school isn’t as fancy as yours,” I continue. “I know that being a doctor is a way bigger deal than being a photographer. But just because my dream is smaller than yours doesn’t mean it’s less important. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I am not giving that up.”
There’s a long silence and then Jake says, “I don’t think your dream is less important than mine. I just wish we didn’t live on opposite ends of the country.”
“I know. Me too.”
“Look, you don’t have to make a decision right now,” Jake says, completely ignoring the fact that I’ve already made my decision. “Just think it over.”
I nod. “Sure, Jake. I’ll think it over.”
He pulls me into a hug and then kisses me as the cars rumble past. It’s a hopeless and desperate kiss. The kind that tries to convince you of the impossible.
* * *
I can’t sleep that night. I made my decision, but what if it’s the wrong one? It’s clear Jake doesn’t think we can last long distance. People say love conquers all, but this does not feel like love conquering. This feels like love getting its ass kicked.
Obviously, things would be easier if I lived here. Am I being selfish to want to finish college?
I sit up in bed and grab my phone. I’m about to text Maggie for some advice when I see a text from my mom.
What do you think? Dad got it enlarged and professionally framed. He says once you're famous we’ll sell it and pay for a new house!
There’s a picture of my parents’ living room and one of my photos, a landscape from Florence, is hanging proudly over the fireplace.
I keep staring, and my eyes fill with tears. I wipe them with the back of my hand and reply.
Thanks, Mom. I love it there.
Of course my parents think I’m great. That’s their job. But Professor Melvin also says I have real talent. His note on my last assignment was “Insightful and revelatory.” I don’t even know what that means, but it feels good. And maybe he doesn’t say that to every student.
I think about how I felt when I got accepted into the program. And how I feel every time I go to a lecture. And how I’ve felt every time I’ve picked up a camera since I was a kid. I turn my phone off and crawl back into bed, finally able to sleep.
* * *
“I’m not moving here, Jake.”
We’re at the airport. I’ve waited as long as I can to say it, but I know this is a conversation we need to have in person.
I think he’ll argue, but he just nods his head.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he says. “I should have never asked that of you. I know how hard you’ve worked. And I’m so proud of you.” He rubs the back of his head. “I don’t tell you enough. I’m so proud of you for going after your dream. And I love seeing how happy it makes you. I just miss you. I just want to be with you.”
“I think we can make this work,” I tell him.
He nods again.
“I’ll call you as soon as I get home.”
