She cranks up aghast to horrified. “You dropped out ofRush?!”
“Yes.”
“Is this because of Olivia and that boy she stole?”
“Mom! She didn’t steal him, and no, it’s not because of Liv.”
She nearly wails, “Then why in heaven’s name did you drop out?” You’d think I was telling her I got arrested.
I try to explain, taking the angle I used with Liv—that I couldn’t find a sorority that I felt was a perfect fit.
“A perfect fit?” Mom scoffs. “Betts, you don’t pick a sorority that fits, you pick one that you want to be like. Then you make yourself fitthem.”
And that’s exactly why I bailed.
I give up trying to explain and instead shilly-shally around all her insults and questions until I finally have to say, “Well, none of it matters now. It’s too late. Rush is over.”
“If they want you, you can still get in.”
“I’ve made my decision.”
She moans, “I knew we shouldn’t’ve let you go out-of-state. But your father said you’d be fine.”
“Iamfine.”
“Expect a call from him.” The line goes dead.
I blink at Liv, then back down at my phone. “I think my mom just hung up on me.”
A nervous giggle comes out of my best friend. Then one comes out of me. Next thing I know, we’re both rolling on our backs, laughing so hard we have to hold our stomachs. It’s not funny, really. It’s sad. But laughing is the release Liv and I both desperately need.
I’d be lying if I said Mom’s disapproval doesn’t hurt, but it also makes me mad. Really stinkin’ pissed off.
“She’s certifiable,” I gasp. She’s going to sic Dad on me and when that doesn’t work, she’s going to try to ghost me until I give in. Watch her refuse to send me anything for my birthday next week. Whatever. Her gifts are never gifts anyway, they’re a means of control.
Dad calls the next morning. “Let’s pretend I tried to talk you into it.”
“Okay. I’ll say you did your duty.”
“Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Dad.”
But of all the reactions—sad, furious, or apathetic—it’s Zander’s that troubles me the most. Last night I texted him:I bailed on Rush.
Zander: Yeah?
Me: Yeah. Couldn’t find a good fit.
Zander: All the more time you can spend with me.
That was it. End of conversation. No expression of concern, no curiosity about why I dropped out. All that matters to him is that my availability won’t be compromised. I can continue to serve him and O-Chi at the level to which he’s become accustomed.
I think I prefer my mother’s indignation.
I spend most of my twentieth birthday in class, studying modern grammar and discussing Anglo-Saxon poetry. It’s not a bad way to while away a birthday, in my opinion, but that’s not something I’d admit to most of my friends. Except for maybe the Clairs. We’ve discovered all four of us have a gap at the same time between our Tuesday and Thursday afternoon classes, so we’ve started meeting at the Bobcat for a quick coffee. When I tell them today’s my birthday, they’re delighted.
Aaron throws up his hands. “I would’ve bought your coffee for you.” He disappears and returns a minute later with a warm chocolate chip cookie from the cafe. “We’ll pretend there are candles on it.”
