Chapter 9: YARON

Outside, it was freezing cold. Vee’s teeth were chattering. We sat down and Vee put the blanket over our shoulders. She rested her head on my chest. It felt great.

Vee opened the first can and we both drank a long gulp.

“Okay, dream girl, if aliens don’t invade Earth next year, what are you going to do when we finish high school?”

Suddenly, she got serious.

“You know what I’ll do, silly.” It was true. She had no problem sharing her aspirations with me or anyone who cared to listen. I had heard Vee talk about her dreams a thousand times, but I loved the expression on her face when she shared them with me.

“As soon as we finish high school I’ll leave Seattle, Yaron. I’ll grab my backpack and leave this city without looking back.”

I swallowed hard, because suddenly, I perceived that this future was getting closer. And Vee was getting more and more serious about it.

“Where are you going?”

“Paris ... London ... Milan ... The whole world. I’ll probably start in Los Angeles.”

“A lot of people go to L.A. full of dreams, Vee. But not all of them succeed.”

Vee opened a can a beer and drank a long gulp. Then, she belched and laughed. When she did, her bangs moved under her wool cap. They were always too long and badly cut, since she fixed them herself in front of the mirror.

“There’s always room for someone who’s up for anything.”

“Up for anything.” Those words, and the truth behind them, terrified me.

“And when you succeed, when you become rich and famous, what will you do then?”

Her gaze showed nothing but determination. She never considered the possibility of not achieving her goals.

“I’ll make sure my father is okay. And I’ll come back for you, Yaron Beilinson.”

I smiled. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath waiting for that promise. Lately, when Vee talked about her dreams, she seemed light years away from me.

“What about you?”

I sighed, thinking of my own future. The next year, I’d be in Harvard, and I’d be away for a lot of years.

We had never talked openly about what was going to happen to us after finishing high school. We had taken it for granted that somehow our friendship would survive, that we would still be together.

“You know I want to be a psychologist. I want to help people.”

“Is that your dream?”

I pondered the question. I allowed myself time to come to grips with it. Mostly because no one had ever asked it to me. My parents had always thought I would work in my father’s company. He assumed the Beilinson legacy would continue under the tutelage of his eldest son.

It sounded logical, even practical. But the one thing I knew for sure— my future wasn’t working with my father. I didn’t want to become a younger version of my dad, working non-stop until late, arriving at a house where a Jewish woman and children were waiting for me. A boring, routine life that didn’t appeal to me, not after sharing half of my life with Vee.

Like Vee, I dreamed big. But unlike my friend, I didn’t care about fame and fortune. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to change lives.