Chapter 3

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This time, it clicks. It's like my ear attunes to the weird language and I'm sucked fully into the story, the same way I am when I watch a movie, so that I feel it...With the coin in my hand, I clap. I clap until my hands sting. I clap as if doing so can prolong the evening, can transform Twelfth Night into Twenty-Fourth Night. I clap so that I can hold on to this feeling. I clap because I know what will happen when I stop. It's the same thing that happens when I turn off a really good movie- one that I've lost myself to- which is that I'll be thrown back to my own reality and something hollow will settle in my chest. Sometimes, I'll watch a movie all over again just to recapture that feeling of being inside something real. Which, I know, doesn't make any sense.

This is one of my favorite parts from Just One Day by Gayle Forman. I adore her work and her writing skills. She always has characters that understand me, like she wrote the book especially for me. Like this part of the book, for instance. The character, Allyson, was at a Shakespeare play in England and she explains how she gets sucked into the story, like how I always get sucked into books and movies, which was also explained in the book.

And it absolutely does make sense, to recapture the feeling of watching an incredibly good movie. To remember how real it felt to watch it for the first time, and then get thrown back into my depressing reality. Gayle Forman is the only person that truly understands me.

"Natalie!" I heard my mom shout from downstairs. "Diner is ready!"

I groaned while I marked the chapter I was on. I continued to groan as I got off my bed and went downstairs. I kept on groaning until I reached the kitchen table and sat down in my chair.

Me, mom, dad, and Drew had our own chair, so no one was allowed to sit in another person's chair or else they don't sit at all. My chair was closer to the hallway, which was closer to the stairs so that I can leave when I'm done eating and go straight to my room.

I scooped myself spaghetti and meatballs and cut off a piece of garlic bread. We all sat in silence, enjoying the spaghetti and balls of meat.

"So Drew," my dad began, breaking the silence. "Have you found a college you'd like to attend yet?"

"Well," began Drew, swirling his spaghetti around with his fork. "Um, I was thinking maybe Walsh college?"

"And I was thinking maybe Wayne State University," dad directed.

Drew sighed and stayed silent, dad still staring at him with disappointment in his eyes.

"Dad-"

"You are 19 years old. You should have been in college last year, gotten a job, earned some money, but instead you chose to hang around wherever you found yourself."

"I wanted a break. I still don't know what I want my career to be yet. You don't think I'm still thinking about that?" Drew urged, getting annoyed.

"Well think faster. But you know you can just come and work-"

"And be a truck driver? No thanks."

Dad sighed. "Think about it."

"My brain can't handle this much thinking," Drew mumbled, taking a mouth full of spaghetti, causing me to chuckle a little. He noticed that I found it funny and began to make weird faces with his spaghetti, causing me to laugh so hard that I almost choked on my meatball. As Drew was about to put a string of spaghetti up his nose, he noticed that Mom was shooting him death glares and he immediately stopped and began to eat normally.

"Natalie," Dad began, and I knew what he was going to ask me before he even said it. "What college are you interested in going to?"

"Wayne," I said nonchalant, not looking at my dad.

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