“You name it, I can do it.” I took a deep breath and held up my hand to start listing. “Dressing sloppy in a photo—my mom hates that. Using the wordcanwhen I meanmay—that will make my dad nuts. Generally, losing is frowned upon unless it is in a team setting, and it was clear you played well. A grade lower than a B plus, which is only acceptable if you told them you were struggling and worked with a tutor. Basically, if it’s imperfect, silly, or open to interpretation, it’s embarrassing.”
I sucked in another gulp of air and realized myshoulders were scrunched up to my ears. Forcing myself to exhale, I dropped my shoulders, although I didn’t really feel any less tense. Next to me, Ethan was silent as we slowed down for a red light. Panic laced its way through my veins.
What if he thought I was the one who was nuts? Really, was it so wrong to want your kid to use proper grammar and get good grades? Lots of people wanted that. And sure, it might be a little weird that my mom wanted me to look nice in every picture I’d ever taken, but she wasn’t wrong about the internet being forever. It was basically an extension of my first impression for the rest of my life and—
“That’s why you didn’t want to put your face in the video. In case we don’t win?” Ethan’s voice was so soft, but it still felt like it might shatter me. I nodded, afraid that if I tried to speak, I might cry.
“And you don’t use social media…”
“Because I don’t want to risk documenting any imperfections.” My voice was as small as I felt. I hadn’t really tried to explain this to anyone before. Saying it out loud made it seem like an impossible way to live. “Plus, my mom would analyze my account relentlessly. She’s probably looking for me in Cricket’s stories right now, compiling suggestions for how I should wear my hair or avoid certain shades of green.”
The light changed, and Ethan eased the car back into gear, his face serious as the Neon Museum came into view. Flipping on his blinker to turn into the museum parking lot, he sighed. “Have your parents met you?”
“What?” I laughed. “Of course they’ve met me.”
“No, I’m serious.” Ethan pulled the car into a parking space and shut it off, then looked at me, a scowl etched on his face. “Sure, you don’t love getting dressed up and you have a high tolerance for glitter, but you are smart and funny and talented. What is a more perfect version of you supposed to act like?”
The question hung between us heavy as the air right before it rains. This whole trip, I’d been torn between being the me I wanted to be and feeling guilty over not being the version of me that my parents and BamBam expected. It never even occurred to me to question what that version of me would actually look like. I only knew that, to my parents, I wasn’t enough. To BamBam, I was more than enough as long as I followed her one rule. Of course, now I was lying to her face in order to spend time with Ethan, breaking her rule and risking her not supporting me, just like my parents.
“I…” My first instinct was to try to defend my parents, to offer the same excuse everyone from my siblings to our neighbors made for them.They mean well.But I couldn’t bring myself to say that. At least not to Ethan. I cleared my throat, then tried out the truth, the words tasting bitter. “I’m not sure.”
“Jamie, people mess up. They lose. That’s life.” Ethan ducked his head slightly to catch my eye. “The only way to avoid making mistakes is to not live at all.”
“Or to live as someone else.” I laughed, but the sound felt hollow. Thinking about the half-finished college application sitting on my computer, I shrugged. “My parents have a really good life planned for me.” I started to list. “Business degree of some kind, join one of their firms after graduate school, then they’ll help with a down payment on a house nearby, andSunday dinners with them and my two point five kids. They might even let me get a dog someday if I’m responsible enough.”
“You can’t really be considering that life.” Ethan blinked at me, incredulous. He reached for my hand. His fingers were callused from working with car parts. “Please tell me you understand that the pressure they put on you to be perfect is weird?”
“Intellectually, I know that.” I ran my thumb over the back of his hand, then met his eye. “In practice, things are a little harder to navigate. My brother and sister handle the pressure better because they were already wired for it. They will both be doctors or accountants for sure, and happily so.”
“I cannot imagine you as an accountant.” Ethan laughed, then stilled. “Does your family know what you want to do?”
“I’ve tried telling them. My words never seem to sink in.” My throat tightened, tears hovering behind my eyes. “BamBam knows. I think it’s why she hasn’t hired someone with more experience running a content business. She can’t openly go against their parenting, but she is trying to help in her own way. It’s why I love her so much. She’s my lifeline.”
“Maybe you should try telling your parents again. If BamBam believes in you, they might see all the good things about you, too.”
I knew my parents loved me and that they wanted what was best for me. I also knew that we had very different ideas about what was best for me. But Ethan was also right. The only way my definition of my future and theirs would ever align was if I risked making them upset. I couldn’t stand at the crossroads much longer. College applications were due soon. My future was basically now.
I leaned my head back on the seat. “Showing them is so much harder than it sounds. Here, at the con, I’m surrounded by people who see a way to make a future where there isn’t a clear path.” I sighed. “My parents are different. They are the kind of people who need a well-maintained trail to follow at the very least—preferably a large highway with useful signage. I don’t want to disappoint them.”
“You won’t. If anyone could figure out how to make this work, it is someone who is already making it work. They’ll either adjust, or you’ll be so rich and famous you won’t care. You wouldn’t be the first person to disappoint their parents.” Ethan grinned and squeezed my hand.
“Who needs family when you can swim in piles of money?” I giggled, then dropped my chin to my chest as the weight of what we were joking about pressed down on me. “I hope they adjust.”
“If they don’t, you’ll still be happy that you followed your dream.” Ethan lightly grazed my arm. “Do you need a hug? You look like you need a hug.”
“Yes.” I laughed, the sound a little wobbly. “Telling people you are only human and your parents hate that is really hard.”
Ethan released my hand. Reaching for the key in the center console, he said, “Come on, human being, let’s get out of the car so I can give you a hug.”
I waited for the door to open, then swung my legs out and was immediately reminded to grab BamBam’s sweater. After pulling it on in one motion, I stopped to take my hair out of the sweater’s neck before I caught Ethan’s expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“I know that face. You’ve thought something is funny, and you won’t be able to keep it to yourself for long, so you may as well tell me now.”
“Okay.” Ethan exhaled. “That sweater is the most spectacularly grandma sweater. I feel like you need a pair of giant glasses and a hair bow, then you could be one of Buzzy’s fans.”
