Free The Fear of Letting Go by Sarra Cannon Page B

“Would he disown you? Throw you out on the streets with no money and no resources?”
    Preston takes a deep breath. “No,” he says. “He would probably threaten it, but I doubt he'd follow through with it. Not after he realized I was serious.”
    “Okay, so this hypothetical future Preston has money and resources galore,” I say. “Disappointed parents, yes, but they'll get over it in time. After a few months of trouble and heartache, he has freedom. Just like that. What does he do with it?”
    He rubs his hand across his cheek, his eyes bright. A smile teases the corners of his mouth. “I can't even imagine what I'd do,” he says. “I've always wanted to travel. And I don't mean my parents' version of traveling, where it's meeting after meeting and you only stay at five-star luxury resorts that you never even get to enjoy. I've always wanted to go to more exotic, spiritual places, like Tibet or the Amazon rain forests, with nothing but a backpack. No tour guides or concierge service. I would love to explore the kinds of things you don't see as a typical tourist.”
    My heart skips a beat. “That's one of my biggest dreams,” I say, almost breathless. “I've never even been out of Georgia, if you can believe that?”
    “Seriously?”
    “Dead serious,” I say. “Not even one foot out of this great state my entire life. But I have always dreamed of being able to travel, just like you're saying. Take a backpack and go exploring places off the beaten path. There are ancient Mayan ruins in Mexico, deep in the jungle, that I would kill to visit someday. It's never really seemed possible, though.”
    He reaches over and takes my hand in his. “Anything's possible right now,” he says. “What about you? What's in store for future Jenna, besides traveling the world?”
    A flutter goes through my stomach as I look up at him. For the first time in as long as I can remember, I'm wondering if there really is something more out there for me. Something bigger than what I've ever dared to hope for.
    “Graduation's coming up in May,” I say. “After that, I don't know. I've put in some applications here and there, but I don't have my heart set on anything yet. That sounds incredibly dull, doesn't it? Graduate and get a job. Boring and not at all adventurous, but unlike you, I don't have a mountain of money sitting there to pay my bills when I get out of school.”
    “Okay, so let's pretend for a minute that money's no object,” he says, turning my game around on me. “What would you do if you didn't have to be practical?”
    I look away. “It's not as fun for me to pretend and dream, because there's no safety net keeping me from hitting rock bottom,” I say. “I have no choice but to be practical.”
    “That's not true,” he says. “People take risks every day. They follow their hearts and take chances, and don't let anything stand in their way. I had to say what I would do if I faced my fear of disappointing my parents. Now, you have to say what you would do if you faced your fear of taking a risk after graduation.”
    I take a deep breath. “There is one thing,” I say. I pull my hand away from his and look back out over the ocean. “I've never told anyone this before, so you have to promise you won't laugh at me.”
    “I swear,” he says.
    “I would love to be an artist,” I say.
    He turns his head in surprise. “What kind of art? Like paintings and stuff?”
    “No,” I say, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “Nothing that normal.”
    “What?” he asks again. “I want to know.”
    “You know those little animals I'm always making with spare napkins and beer labels and stuff?”
    He nods. “Origami?”
    “Yes, but so much more than just that,” I say. “I'm into all kinds of paper art. Quilling and paper sculptures. I even make my own paper.”
    He doesn't say anything at first, and when I glance over at him, his mouth is slightly open and he's staring at me.
    “I know it's weird, but