Mom sits up straight, shocked. She looks over at my father. He didn’t tell her? Dad doesn’t say a word, so I take a deep breath and keep going.
“I’m not sure what I want to do with my life, but I like the idea of being a museum curator,” I say, and before I know it, I’m totally word-barfing on my parents. “I love art history, and I think I want to major in it. That or history. Maybe minor in museum studies? Or major in museum studies and minor in business, like you want me to, Dad. That could be helpful if I’m running a museum one day. I’m still doing some research, but I think Boston University or GW or NYU could be a good fit. There’s also Vanderbilt, which means I’d be closer to home. The University of Chicago has an intern program, and I could work at one of the museums there. There are so many good museums in Chicago, you know? Well, in New York, DC, and Boston too. Yale is a great school, but there wouldn’t be as many internship opportunities in New Haven. That’s why I don’t want to apply there,” I ramble.
Mom sets her tea glass down. “Life is short.” Her eyebrows pinch together for a moment, and her eyes begin to water—she must be thinking of her sister. “You should do what you want to do.”
Dad simply stares at me. Finally, he cracks a small smile. “It sounds like you have a well-thought-out plan. Let’s talk about your college research tomorrow.”
Ezra squeezes my leg under the table and grins at me.
“Ezra Carmichael,” Dad says slowly. “Get your hands up where I can see ’em.”
Ezra looks sheepish. “Yes, sir.”
And I am all smiles for the rest of dinner.
? ? ?
When we get home, I invite Ezra inside.
“You can’t stay too late because I have my last soccer game tomorrow. It’s an early one. Eight a.m.”
“That’s fine. Shall we have dessert then?” He flashes me a killer smile.
“If by dessert you mean dessert dessert, sure.”
“I was thinking of the other kind of dessert, but I could settle for an ice cream sandwich. Do you have those?”
We head into the kitchen. “I don’t know what we have,” I say, glancing in the freezer. “Green tea gelato?”
Ezra sticks out his tongue. “Never mind. Can we go downstairs? I need to talk to you about something.”
My heart skips a beat out of nervousness. “Okay.”
Once we’re settled together in a cushy armchair with me sitting in his lap, Ezra speaks up. “I went to see my dad last night.”
I suck in a deep breath. “How did that go?”
“I told him I want to go back to school. To study architecture.”
I hug my boyfriend. “What did your father say?”
“He’s so happy to hear that I want to go to school again, I think he’d be excited no matter what I wanted to study. I could’ve told him I want to be a gynecologist.”
I punch Ezra’s bicep.
“Ow.”
“What made you change your mind?”
“Seeing what you did for Ben.”
“Huh?”
“When you covered for him, you were living a lie. And even though you never meant for any of it to happen, it changed your whole life.”
I draw tiny circles on my boyfriend’s chest. “In some ways, that was good. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here with you now.”
“I agree. But when you were lying, you were living a life that just wasn’t right. Didn’t you feel like something was off?”
“Yeah.”
“I feel the same way. I mean, I’m happy working on houses, but there’s always this nagging feeling. Something’s off, and I don’t think it will go away.”
“Are you saying I’m a nagging feeling?” I joke.
He tickles my sides. “Yep. You are my little nagging feeling. But seriously, you made me realize that if I don’t change something now, I could end up in a place I don’t want to be, just because I didn’t have the guts to tell the truth and ask for help. So I looked into resources for people like me and talked with my dad.”
I touch Ezra’s cheek. “Wow. What happened?”
“He was pissed, yeah, but I think he’d rather people find out I have a learning disability than us not speaking and me living on the other side of town. I’m getting tested for dyslexia and ADHD on Monday.”
I suddenly feel like the day after Christmas, when all that anticipation finally pays off and you’re happy, but also sad. “So you’re going back to Cornell?”
“I think so…but I don’t want to leave you either.”
We hug each other tightly. “We will deal with it. You do whatever you need to do, and we’ll work it out, okay?”
He nods. “I’m also looking into the architecture program at UT Knoxville. It looks like it may be a good fit for me. I might try to transfer. I’m waiting on a call back.”
I kiss him. “You know what I’m thinking?”
His arms pull me close. “What?”
“Maybe your dad and mom wouldn’t have a problem with your Ragswood Road apartment if you got some throw pillows.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” he mutters, pecking my lips. “My little nagger.”
? ? ?
Today is my eighteenth birthday.
Unlike my sixteenth, I don’t have any big party plans for tonight. Ezra takes me to Jiffy Burger, so we can listen to all the trucker dudes talk smack. One bellows, “Well, that just dills my pickle!”
We eat burgers and fries and drink cherry cokes.
When we’re finished, I feel like I will never be hungry again, but I look at the dessert menu anyway. “Want to split some pecan pie?”
He plucks the menu from my hand. “No dessert. I’ve got something for you back at your house.”
I give him a pouty face. “I figured we could go to your place.”
“Not tonight.”
I raise my eyebrows. He won’t have the apartment much longer, and I want to take advantage of the privacy while we still can. He’s moving back home in December so he can spend the month working with an education specialist, who is going to help him get set up for college. He’s transferring to UT Knoxville in January, and the school will pair him with tutors and the support he needs to succeed. He’s excited to start and not scared, and that means everything to me.
His mom and dad are already telling people that the reason Ezra left Cornell is because he wanted to study architecture and his father was upset he wouldn’t inherit the family business. I only hope that his parents will begin to accept that he has dyslexia and give him the emotional support he needs to succeed.
When Ezra drives me home, there are tons of cars parked along the street. Wait—is that Chloe’s Sentra? Hey, there’s Steph’s red Mercedes! What is she doing here?
I hop out of Ezra’s Range Rover and hustle up the front steps. Inside, rap music is pounding. The walls are shaking. Pulling my boyfriend along behind me, I jog through the house to the kitchen.
“Surprise!”
Tears flood my eyes when I see my family and friends standing around a cake with flickering candles. Chloe and Alyson are there from Hundred Oaks, and a few other girls from the soccer team, including Sydney and Brittany. Steph and Madison came down from St. Andrew’s. Mom, Dad, and Marina. Even Oliver and Jenna are here. Wow. I guess I should’ve known, considering the loud club music.
I walk over to my brother and give him a big hug. “Any excuse for an Oliver Dance Party, huh?”
“You bet.”