Focus

Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue, Flowers Suck

One ring. Two rings. Five rings. Twelve rings. I'm not even surprised by the time I hit voicemail. "Please leave your name and number after the beep," says an automatic voice through the receiver. I hesitate. Maybe this isn't the right decision. Everything happened so fast with Calum, and even though we've known each other for four months, I still barely know anything about him. Looking back, our entire semi-relationship seems stupid anyway. One minute he's taking my breath away, and the next he's saying I can't be with him because of his past.

His past. What does that even mean? I had braces in the fourth grade. My past is still pretty haunting. Is he referring to something embarrassing like that? Or maybe a mistake that's finally catching up to him? Australia to Florida is a big move. It would make sense if he was trying to escape something - I just wish he would talk to me. We've spent so much time together, gotten so close, and he thinks he can't even trust me enough to tell me what's on his mind. I pull the phone away from my ear and push the hang up button. The best thing for right now is probably just to leave him alone. He'll do some thinking in solitude, and he might decide to trust me, who knows. For now, all I have to focus on is making it to the end of the year.

I get back to my house at about 7:30 to see Amanda sitting on my doorstep, her suitcase still unpacked. "You're back!" I squeal. She screams and jumps up to hug me, her short arms wrapping tightly around my neck. "I missed you!" She says into my shoulder. "I missed you too," I whisper. We stay like this for a few minutes, hugging in silence, and then she pulls back suddenly, wide-eyed. "I have so much to tell you," she says in a hushed voice. "College life is going to be incredible." Her cheeks are pink from excitement and her green eyes glow against the sunset. She looks happy, gorgeous, and alive. "I'm sure you do," I grin. She pulls open the front door, leaving her suitcase on the porch, and we walk through the house and head straight to my bedroom. After shutting the door behind her, she flops down on my bed and heaves a sigh, gathering the dark blue comforter in her hands and burying her face in it. I wheel out the chair from underneath my desk and sit, spinning around to face her. "Well?" I demand.

She rolls onto her stomach and props her head up on her hands. "University of Florida is my future," she says dramatically. I grin. "I mean, I love Miami so much. Big cities are what I live for. But after spending a week in Gainesville, there's just nothing like it. The environment, the people...it's a college town, you know? Everyone's just so excited about school! It's amazing!" Her voice gets increasingly louder as she continues to explain her various college experiences. My heart feels a pang of sadness. Amanda's right; University of Florida is her life. The way she's talking about it suggests that it's definitely the right place for her to start out her future. She delves into an animated explanation of the major she wants to study in art, and how she's opening her own art studio after college. I'm so happy for her, really. She's going to go places and do things and be successful.

Her eagerness to leave high school reminds me of how unprepared I am to take on the real world. School couldn't possibly interest me any less. I really want to sing and make music, possibly look into a music performance career where I can interact and travel with other musicians; but I feel like it's the right thing to finish high school and go to college, even if it means doing something I don't necessarily enjoy. Being a musician is a faulty career that may not end up making me any money at all, and I need to be prepared (at least, according to my sister.) "...and if the paintings really take off I may have enough money to open up a film school!" She finishes her tangent and stares off dreamily into space. I laugh.

"Listen, Amanda," I begin. She looks at me earnestly. "I'm so happy for you. This is incredibly exciting. Make sure to keep your options open, though, because getting accepted is going to be the tricky part." She nods, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm also looking into some private schools off the coast. They're offering me insane scholarships, it's gonna be so hard to choose!" I wish choosing between schools was my biggest worry right now, I think sullenly. "What about you?" She asks, looking at me curiously. "I don't think I've ever heard you talk about college before." I roll my eyes. "Not important," I say. "I'll figure it out." She lets out a little gasp. "School is very important," she says firmly. "You're so smart, Han. You need to find a good way to channel it." I tilt my head back for a moment, thinking, and then say uncertainly, "Well, for starters, it would be fun to go out of state." "Now you're talking!" She claps. "What else?" "Criminal justice is just so neat. I might get a degree in law and forensic science, so maybe I could train to be an FBI agent." Her mouth falls open. "That's...intense." "It's a work in progress," I say simply. "Too much Sherlock Holmes - it's getting to my head."