We glanced down the hill to see that Lacy had caught up to HP by the fire pit. He put his hands on his hips as he stood listening to her. She tried to touch his bare shoulder but of course he stepped back. I watched as he zipped up Ezra’s grad jacket for her before walking back towards us.
“It’s like a line dance where the partners switch,” Ezra said. “We’ve all gone do-si-do.”
We drove back to town, our formation along the front seat the same: I was still jammed up against Lacy and could feel the hate burning out of her towards the side of my head. I didn’t look at her. The boys must have sorted out their differences with a few loose sentences while they packed up the truck; they both shouted song lyrics as we drove through town.
When Ezra parked outside my house, I got out to grab my bag from the back. Through the study window, I could see Dad slowly pacing the room as he read a piece of paper in his hands.
“See you guys soon,” I said. “Thanks for the ride, Ez.”
“Later.” HP winked at me.
As I walked up the steps of the front porch, Dad emerged with a letter, which he waved so eagerly his hair bobbed. I walked right past him and into the house. Mom was doing sudoku on the couch, rubbing out a number she’d gotten wrong. As I walked into the living room, she looked up with the eyes of someone expecting a wedding announcement.
“So? How did it go? Sweetheart, tell me everything.”
She patted the cushion next to hers, but instead I dropped my bag on the floor and trudged straight to the fridge.
“Was it wonderful? Did HP look after you?”
I drank milk straight from the carton but she was too enraptured to notice.
“I remember my grad weekend. I danced all night with Kenny Calahan and darling, I can tell you, he was no slouch. He drove me home in his father’s BMW. It purred like a cat. I love a man in a Beamer.”
“Is that why you chose Dad?” I snorted, looking around to see where he’d gone. He must have retreated back to his study.
“I didn’t meet Dad until I was twenty-two! We were in Twelfth Night together; he was Malvolio, which was unattractive, but he charmed me at the cast party. I’ve told you this story before.”
“I wasn’t listening.”
She shut her sudoku book and used it to fan her regal face. “These number puzzles are meant to be the easy level. The hard ones must be an entrance exam for NASA.” Her laugh was too shrill. She got up and joined me in the kitchen, leaning in her swirly chiffon blouse against the countertop. “Angela, did you kiss a boy?”
I jumped at the question. “Why do you ask that?”
“Oh, I know a thing or two about my daughter.” She twirled the yellow tie of her blouse between long, painted fingernails. “Look at your glow! You did kiss a boy, although why one would choose you with your hair a mess is beyond me. Was it HP? Oh, Angela, you have no idea how good you’ve got it.” She sighed moonily. “There’s nothing better than fresh love, and that boy’s a diamond in a town of rough. Please tell me it was HP.”
I put the milk back in the fridge and closed the door. “I’ve been thinking. I don’t want to go away to college. I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Don’t be so ridiculous.” Her voice dropped low and husky.
“It’s what Dad wants. Nobody’s asked me.” I smeared milk off my top lip with the back of my hand while she took a deep breath.
“Did you take chemical drugs? You look peaked. You’ll feel differently when you’ve had a hot shower and some fresh fruit. Your father has very exciting news for you. Where is he? He’s been pacing the study all morning like a Bengal tiger. It’s a relief you’re home.”
“Jesus, Mom. Can you not hear anything I’m saying?”
She swept back to the couch and arranged her skirt around her knees. “Let’s not talk about it now, sweetheart. Not when your tone is this acidic.”
“Let’s not talk about what?” asked Dad as he shuffled into the living room. He stood behind the couch with his hands on his hips and his pelvis arched forwards. The letter he’d waved at me at the front door was now rolled up like a scroll, pressed tight against his hip bone.
“David, where have you been?”
“I had to go and fetch the envelope. Look at it! It’s gold-crested.” He rocked up to his tiptoes and back down again.
“I think now’s not the time. No, David, she’s addled and needs sleep. Look at her skin tone. I say we wait on the good news.” Mom leafed through the pages of her book.
“Oh,” said Dad. He scratched the back of his neck. “What did you learn at grad camp? I hope HP didn’t let me down.”
“They’ve had an adventure,” smiled Mom, nibbling the end of her sudoku pencil, “but she’s being coy and well-mannered about it. A lady never kisses and tells.”
Dad frowned. “Angela, we need to have a team talk about your future.” He raised the rolled scroll of letter as if it were a trumpet through which he might bugle-horn his triumph. “I have Oxford developments to report.” He took a step closer to the breakfast bar. “Angela, close the fridge and look at me. My darling, I know you’re tired but we’ve gotten you into Oxford University, England! It’s really happening! You’re going to the best school in the world.” He covered his lips with the fingertips of one hand and waited for me to celebrate.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His hesitation was momentary, like perhaps he hadn’t been speaking English properly. “Reggie McIntosh has secured a freshman year of study for you to read Classics, based on what he’s calling a ‘superior academic transcript.’ You’ll be attached to Hertford College—they’ve also accepted you. Well done!”
I grimaced. Why hadn’t I written worse papers through Grade 12?
“Angela, it’s the kind of launchpad we could only have dreamed of. The possibilities coming out of this are endl—”
“I didn’t dream of it. It’s not my dream.” In my head all I could see was HP, his face above mine in Ezra’s truck.
Over on the sofa, my mother clamped her hands between her knees. “Oh, come on, darling, try and be positive. This is the ultimate milestone! We’re handing you the keys to the kingdom.”
“Nobody’s asked me what I want!”
“I thought you’d be over the moon.” My dad gaped at me like I’d told him learning was wrong.
“HP will wait for you, you know.” Mom got up suddenly from the couch, and her puzzle book clattered to the floor.
“This is about HP?” asked Dad.
I said nothing.
“It’s eight months abroad, Angela. Eight months that will set you up for the rest of your life. After that, you can have it all.” Her eyes shone.
“I don’t want it all.”
“You’re beautiful and gifted, darling.” She swept hair from her brow. “You’ll be opening doorways you can walk through with whoever you want. HP, for instance, would be a lovely choice. Nobody’s disputing that. But Oxford? You absolutely must go.”
“There’s no backing out now,” my dad said, wringing the back of his neck with one hand. “I’ve called in a favor and done all this groundwork. It’ll be very humiliating.” His toes pigeoned in worn-out slippers.