Good on you, mom. “Misogynist and sexist and fat-shame-y,” I add, pushing food around my plate. I shove my towering plate of waffles to the side, suddenly feeling gross with my urge to comfort eat every last crumb on the buffet line. “So what? Are you going to make us have some heart-to-heart moment or something? Is that supposed to make up for all the hurt he’s caused by leaving and constantly making digs at me?”

She takes a bite of a cheese-filled Danish. “I wish it could. And I’m not sure it ever would. You’re an adult now, and that means having to figure out your own path, which you’ve always done. I admire that in you. I don’t know where you got that bravery from, but it’s not from your father or me. That’s for sure. Part of that path means having to figure out what’s important to you and what will help you grow versus hold you back. What your father says is not reflective of you but of him. What other people want from you is more about them than you. Don’t let anyone hold power over you. You’re a beautiful person, inside and out, and you deserve to hear that.”

Chapter 19

19

On Monday, CIA’s campus center is flagged with giant PARENTS’ WEEKEND banners. They are delightfully decked with tiny gourds and jack-o’-lanterns and goofy-looking spiders with little blue hats stamped with CIA’s mascot, a cartoonish river otter. Most of the conversation on campus revolves around how Parents’ Weekend falls on Halloween and “how am I going to ditch my ’rents to get wasted?” Since I convinced Mom to save the money and not come, and Dad wouldn’t dare after yet another awkward encounter, I get to enjoy the cheesy decor of the Hole with a side of loneliness.

“You’re super spacey, binch,” Benny says, waving a chicken finger in my face. “Meanwhile, Chloe and Sof and I have been discussing Halloween costume ideas on a budge for the last fifteen and have yet to hear your thoughts.”

“A budge?” I ask.

“Budget,” Benny says matter-of-factly.

Chloe and Sofía await my suggestions, but I’ve got nothing. I’m notoriously bad at coming up with costume ideas. Last year, Rae, Leila, and I wanted to do a group costume idea that was punny, and all I could come up with was Deviled Eggs. As in, let’s dress up as eggs with devil horns. I was nearly kicked out of the friend group for that, which, fair.

“Halloween is ruined this year,” Sofía says. “Parents’ Weekend is cockblocking my fun times. The usual parties aren’t happening. But I wanna do something.”

“Have another party?” I suggest.

“Can’t,” Chloe says. “Sof’s parents are staying with us.” She glares at her.