Page 141 of Faux Real
“Hmm,” I hum, rubbing my chin. “Any chance they play Oasis?”
He shrugs. “Probably, why?”
“I need a favor, Leon.”
Maybe prom won’t be so bad after all.
forty-three
For Real
KENNEDY
Forthefirsttimein my life, I’m directionless.
I can go east, west, north, or south. I can move up, down, side to side. Hell, I don’t have to move at all. I can stand right here. I can stand in this spot for as long as I need.
No compass. No map. No plan. It’s kind of liberating.
The solace of stillness.
I always thought that standing in one spot meant that you’re lost, that you’re stuck, that you’re moving backward, further and further away from the finish line.
But I was wrong. Mistaken.
The finish line isn’t stagnant. It’s moving. Always moving. And I think that sometimes whenyoustop moving the finish line actually moves closer and meets you exactly where you’re standing.
It comes to you.
When we’re little we’re told tochaseour dreams. But what does that mean? Does it mean if our dreams don’t come true that we weren’t running fast enough? That we didn’t put in enough effort? That we gave up? Got tired? Distracted? Exhausted?
Maybe it’s time to stop chasing dreams and allow dreams to chase us. To attract rather than pursue. To take a break from running and just wait. Be patient. Have faith. Have confidence. And just let the universe do its thing.
I thought I knew what I wanted. Harvard. I was dead sure that would make me happy. That that shiny acceptance letter would bring me joy. That it would fill the void. That empty spot in my heart that I kept trying to ignore. But it didn’t. It couldn’t have. Why? Because I was chasing. I was chasing a dream that wasn’t even mine.
My dream, myrealdream, is coming true right now. It’s not as big or important or life-altering as Harvard but who cares. It’s mine. And it’s happening right now.
“Stand still, Kennedy!” my mom scolds, mumbling through the hairpins in her mouth. “Max, go ask your mom for some more hairspray. I need all the help I can get!”
“On it!” Max laughs, jumping off her bed and rushing out of her bedroom. She might look like a damn highlighter in that neon yellow pantsuit, but I’m a little jealous of her mobility. “Mom! Sarah needs more hair poison!”
“Thanks again for flying down, Mom,” I say, my heart warming. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
“I’ve missed so many important moments in your life, Kenny,” she says, caressing my cheek before giving it a kiss. “There’s no way I would’ve missed your prom.”
I let out a blissful sigh, absorbing my mom’s love as I glance at the mirror. “Do I look okay?”
“You look so beautiful, honey,” my mom smiles, pinning a ringlet to the rest of the half up-do. “Like a modern-day princess.”
“Princess, huh?” My eyes narrow as I look at my reflection in the floor-length mirror. The satin forest green evening gown hugging my body is pretty but I wouldn’t say it screams royalty. “I don’t see it.”
“That’s because you’re looking with your eyes, Kenny,” she says as Max and Alice stroll back into the room, supplies in hand. My mom leans into my ear and whispers, “You need to look with your heart.”
“Hearts have eyes now? Wow. Looks like someone got into your stash,” Max jokes, glancing at her mom. “Thought you locked the cabinet.”
“Ignore her.” Alice rolls her eyes, flicking the side of Maxine’s head. “My child has no filter.”
“Filters are for coffee,” Max says, swatting her mom’s hand away. “Not people.”
