I shake my head as I sneak my hands to her hips. “Have I taught you nothing?” With one swift movement, I flip us over so she’s on the ground and I’m lying on top of her. “I always win at wrestling.”

Then I kiss her.

* * *

Hours later we’re lying in my bed, our bodies tangled together as she lies naked on her side. She hasn’t read the journal page yet and I’m not going to push her. Instead she has her sketchbook out and she’s scribbling lines down on a fresh sheet of paper, attempting to recapture a photo of her mom sitting on her bed, looking sad. On the other side of the sketchbook there’s a picture of what looks like me with the words My everything written on the bottom.

“What exactly are you working on?” I ask her as I trace a path up and down her spine, and with each stroke she shivers. “I know this one’s your mom”—I tap my finger on the drawing of me—“but what’s this one about?”

The pencil briefly stops moving across the paper. “Can I explain it to you later?” She peers over her shoulder and wisps of her hair fall into her face. “I want to finish it first and then tell you everything.”

Everything. What does she mean by “everything”? “Can I have a hint?”

She studies me, chewing on her lip, and then she directs her attention back down at the drawing, covered with angled lines and dark shades. “It’s about our past… and our future.”

Our future. I’m surprised by her honesty and feel guilty because she’s been so honest with me lately and I’ve been keeping a huge secret from her. Well, not exactly a secret, but I’ve been withholding information, concerned about how she’ll react, fearing she’ll say she’ll go even though she doesn’t want to. Or she’ll say she won’t go and that will be the end of my music dream. But it’s time to stop avoiding the decision, especially when she’s being so straightforward.

I let my finger trail up her back a few more times and then I drape my arm over her side and press my face against the back of her neck, folding my arms around her. “I have to tell you something,” I say, and her body goes as rigid as a board. “Calm down. It’s not bad. It’s just news… a decision we need to make.”

I hear her drop the pen onto the paper. “Okay.” She sounds anxious.

I kiss the back of her neck and shut my eyes. “I got a call from Mike the other day.”

“Oh, yeah? What’d he want?” She’s trying to act calm but I can tell she isn’t.