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Can we talk?
Mom says, eyes red
mascara smudged.
I open the door
silently
and sit at my desk.
Mom and Mama Alice
perch on my unmade bed.
I cross my arms.
So, what is this?
An intervention?
Of sorts,
Mom says.
Things got out of hand
earlier, Mama Alice starts.
We’d like you to talk us through
why you want to take a year off
and why you—
We really don’t like
that you lied to us,
Mom blurts.
Mara—please don’t
interrupt me. You know I hate it,
Mama Alice says
through gritted teeth.
Fine, fine. Sorry!Mom says
raising her hands up
in defense.
I stare at them both
dumbfounded.
