"So what about school?" Marisol asked, taking a bite of nachos. They were sitting in their regular booth at Little Miss Steaks, swapping their creative writing assignments for editing while Marisol worked, eating free nachos once again. It was the exact same scenario as a few weeks ago, only this time… This time there was something there that wasn't there before. Things were light, happy- they each knew that they wanted to be there, not just that they had to be. Anyone watching the pair would have thougth that they were on a date, but of course, that wasn't the case.
Eli shrugged at her question, sipping his soda.
"I dunno. I mean, I applied to NYU, god knows what will happen to me. I'll probably get waitlisted and wind up having to go to U of T." He said with a shrug, leaning back against the booth. Marisol shot him a look. "What?" He asked after a moment.
"Have a little faith in yourself, Goldsworthy! I don't think they would waitlist you. In fact, they'd be stupid to do it. U of T is not the right place for you. You need to be somewhere big, somewhere busy. U of T is for people like me who want exposure to outside culture but don't want to be too far from home." Marisol explained. "You can't lose sight of what you want ultimately, Eli. It's not fair to you." She told him.
Eli considered for a moment. It was surprisingly sound and encouraging advice. "Thanks, Mare." The dark-skinned girl shook her head.
"Don't mention it. I'll be back soon." She told him, getting up from the booth to go back and work a few tables. Eli waited patiently for her to finish a few of them, and when she got a few minutes, she returned.
"Sorry about that." She said, and Eli immediately waved her off.
"It's fine, don't mention it." He said with a lopsided smile. It made Marisol's heart melt a little. She smiled back and took another nacho.
"By the way, I think you can do far greater things than U of T." Eli said, looking down at her creative writing assignment again. "I mean, you've gotten better in the last weeks, who knows what kind of potential you have?" Marisol shook her head and laughed as he spoke. "What? I'm serious!"
"Well, it's sweet of you to say, but I seriously doubt I could make it anywhere like NYU, or afford it for that matter." Marisol told him.
"There's this little thing called financial aid and a student visa."
"Yes, I know that. But come on. Do you really think that I can get any kind of financial aid? My dad is a chiropractor and my mom was a nurse. That's a pretty large income. And I already did all of my applications." Marisol told him, a dark cloud coming over her a bit. Eli sighed, knowing he'd upset her. He hadn't necessarily been walking on eggshells around the girl, because she didn't need that, but he was trying to be careful about what he said.
"I… I didn't mean to upset you-"
"You didn't, Eli. I'm just telling you that not only do I have to stay close to home, I want to. My dad needs me, now more than ever. I can't just leave him alone in that empty house with nothing but memories, he'll go crazy." She told him. Suddenly, Marisol wished that she had more to do at work that night. She got up, telling him that she needed to use the restroom and then went to a coworker of hers, asking if she could cover another table. Considering that the majority of a waitor's pay is in tips, the coworker said no, and so she sulked back to the table. Eli had a guarded expression on, trying to figure out what to say.
"What did you think?" He asked, gesturing toward his binder. Marisol thought for a moment. The assignment had been on what qualities you'd like to see yourself with in ten years.
"Listen, by the time we all come back to the reunion, we're all either going to be mediocre or billionaires. Few of us will be billionaires and most of us will be mediocre, but you won't be. And I knew that before I read this assignment. You kind of made a joke out of it, to be honest, and that's not the way it was meant to be taken." Marisol told him. She looked up at Eli, and he nodded for her to continue. "While it's not completely unrealistic to imagine yourself as a famous director, this assignment wasn't about dreams. It was about the qualities we want to see in ourselves as adults. So tell me, what's one of the qualities you want to see in yourself?" She challenged.
Eli looked at her, almost dumbfounded by her monologue. He shook his head, unable to think clearly for a moment. When he could, he looked at her dead in the eye. "I want compassion. I want willingness to change. I want growth. And most of all, I want the ability to love." Eli recited. It was the final line of Marisol's own assignment. Her cheeks heated and she wasn't sure how to take what Eli was saying, if there was any way to take it correctly. "Marisol, I have never met a stronger person than you. You somehow manage to take care of yourself and your father, and yet here you sit, giving me excellent advice not only for this paper, but for the rest of my life. In truth, I want the qualities I see in you that you don't already see in yourself."
Marisol stiffened at this. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to react, but what she did know was that it felt like she'd been holding a breath and she was finally able to release it. Her eyebrows knit together and she leaned her forearms on the table, looking down at her hands. "I don't know what to say, Eli." She told him, shaking her head and giving him a shaky smile.
Eli shook his head. "There's nothing to say. I'm just telling the truth." He told her.
"MARISOL!" Her manager Juan called out to her, and she looked at him, then back at Eli, eyes full of regret.
"You know, one of these days, we'll be able to sit down and have a conversation over food while you're NOT working." He said with a sloped smile.
"If that ever happens, the food probably won't be free." She told him as she got up. Eli shook his head again.
"On a date, the food is never free. Not for me, at least."
Marisol's heart skipped a beat as she turned to walk away, the smile on her face only growing wider as she realized what he was implying. The next time she came back to the table Eli was gone, but the feeling she got when he smiled that crooked grin at her most certainly was not.