❝Never stand begging for that which you have the power to earn.❞
— Miguel de Cervantes

15 || the art is not in making money

time || evening

Brolin and I are holding hands when we exit the theater. The sun is setting and the city lights are beginning to appear.

It's not as hot as it was when we'd gone into the theater, there's a slight warm breeze and the way it feels against my skin is rejuvenating.

In few words, I can say this day has been adventurous. Yet, we still have lots of time on our hands. There's many things we can do opposed to earlier when I was grumpy and the sun wasn't letting up. But now that my mind's cleared and the sun is letting up, I'm finally able to think more.

"Where to next?" I ask Brolin.

All this time I haven't asked him what he's wanted to do, it's been all about me. He hasn't really mentioned to me his hobbies. The only skill I know of his is that he can play the ukulele. The more I realize I don't know much about him, the more I wonder about his life.

Brolin shrugs. "I don't care," he says, being his laid-back self.

I nod.

Maybe it's time to play 20 questions. He doesn't look as if he's trying to be distant or anything, if I go over our day together it's been all about ME ME ME. When I put it that way it makes it sound as if I'm a spoiled brat. Which it isn't far from the truth, if you know what I mean.

I started this day whining about how my dad could be losing his job—basically acting like a materialistic-spoiled damsel who can't make a dime for herself. When really, money doesn't make up your life, it's how you spend it and with who.

Brolin one time, hasn't complained to me at all about losing his job, his girlfriend breaking up with him, and his grandpa being in the hospital. I can assume that If he's taking a train up north to see his grandpa they must be close. He probably has one of those "close-knit" families, making me almost envy him.

"I wanna say 'take a picture it'll last longer'... but I really wanna know what's on your mind." Brolin says glancing at me. I feel a blush spread across my nose, embarrassed  I was caught gawking at him. I look down at the ground and sigh.

"Can you tell me some things about yourself?" I ask him finally.

I expect him to close-off at my question. But it's not as if I'm telling him to reveal a part of himself no one's seen before. I'm just wanting to know more about him.

"Like what?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

I shrug again, and purse my lips. "Where did you graduate? When's your birthday? How many siblings do you have?..."

He smiles. "Well... I graduated from UMD. I was born in 1995 and my birthday is November 29th... eh... I have two siblings—an older brother and a younger sister. What else?"

I grin. "What's the dumbest thing you've ever done? How many friends do you have? What are your hobbies."

"Will you answer the same questions after I'm done answering them," Brolin asks, eying me and mockingly putting his finger on his chin as if he's skeptical of me. I roll my eyes. Why not? It'd only be fair.

"Sure," I say.

"...enter in from the exit at Walmart. I don't have that much but if you count instagram I have a fair amount... I like swimming, playing the uke, and reading a good classic book."

I have to remember what I asked him first for me to comprehend what he just said. "Enter in from the exit?" I say, confused.

Brolin chuckles. "Yeah, when I was five I always thought the sliding doors in Walmart were cool, so I entered Walmart using the exit door. You know how Walmart has a side for entering and a side for leaving?"

I nod, wondering where this story is going.

"So, my five year old self thought it was cool to enter Walmart from the exit side and the door almost ended up shutting me. This close." He holds his hand up, putting his forefinger and thumb a mere inch apart.

I grin.

"Wait," I stop in my steps. "That can really happen? You can get shut by the door if you don't enter in from the the side that says enter?" I never thought about that—no matter how confusing it might sound with the way I just worded it. When I go into Walmart or any store that bothers to label the doors. I never thought that entering the wrong way, or exiting the wrong way could have me shut to death.

"I'd think so," Brolin says, "I almost did."

I shake my head. "You were five," I defend him. "I wouldn't call that dumb, just not knowing better."

"So that's what you call the dumbest thing you ever did," he chides, causing me to hit him playfully on the arm.

"No," I say. "Fine I'll tell you the dumbest thing I ever did. I was 14 when this happened. So I had a conscience."

He nods. "'Kay."

"My friend Justice had dared me to run through the spray grounds in town square. And the dumb thing was it was after we'd gone to the middle school formal and I was in a nice dress and had my hair done.

Brolin laughs.

"After running through the fountains, my mascara was runny. And another dumb thing is my dress was white, and since it was white, you could basically see my underwear through the dress."

Brolin loses it.

I used to find the story embarrassing but telling it to Brolin takes the embarrassment away. Now it's simply the dumbest thing I've ever done.

After a few minutes, the laughs are out of his system and we've stumbled into town square the setting of which my dumbest thing I've ever done had taken place. And the spray grounds are on.

I don't look at Brolin. I have feeling if I dare mention that we're in town square he'll make me run through those fountains.

"Karen,"

"Yeah—"

Surprised, Brolin picks me up and carrying me bridal style, he dashes for the spray ground.

He is not serious.

"Brolin put me down!"

I start to hit him, but my weak blows aren't fazing him at all.

:: :: ::

:: :: ::

Check out our other stories: