I set my napkin on the table, closed my eyes, and exhaled in relief. I could see now that Dad’s suggestion wasn’t going anywhere at all. It was probably too late to sign me up for anything worth doing, and it’s not like there was anything I wanted to do anyway. Dad was just trying to be a dad and Mom was just trying to be a mom. Even though neither of them could really remember how. In a few minutes Mom would wash the dishes and go turn on the TV or read a book. And then we could all stop pretending I was going to do anything more than nothing all summer.

A summer of nothing sounded exactly right to me.

Actual Pants

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of silence. There was none of the usual racket of songbirds, so I knew it must be late. I reached for my phone and checked the time: 10:27. I guessed that meant my parents had decided I was old enough to do nothing, all by myself.

I smiled and let my eyes fall shut again. Then I lay there, feeling the heaviness of my limbs on the bed, the sheet light and cool above my body. Feeling nothing. It was officially summer, and the only place I really wanted to be was here, in bed, half asleep. For days. Weeks. Months. In this bubble of fuzzy morning, with the sun up and slanting through the blinds. I could never remember my dreams these days—only the glow of not quite remembering. Only the vague shine of sleep.

I let myself drift back into it.

It was perfect. Exactly what I’d hoped for. I’d wake up each day in the yellow light of late morning, with dust motes floating over my eyes, and Mr. Face purring softly beside me. I’d pet him for a minute, then drift, dream, and fall back asleep. But finally, about noon, I’d get to that point where no matter how long I stayed in bed with my eyes closed, my brain wouldn’t stop clicking, working, turning over, and wanting to get up.

Then I’d drag myself out of bed and change from pajama pants to leggings, so that if Mom came home for lunch unexpectedly or something, I’d look semi-dressed. After that I’d make something to eat—a Hot Pocket, maybe, or cheese and crackers. Then I’d go lie down on the couch, to watch movies on the TV—one day it was My Neighbor Totoro, another A Wrinkle in Time—or just flip around in my phone, staring at my classmates’ pictures from vacation. From the looks of it, everyone was having an outrageously good time. Lots of grinning and shoulder posing and exotic Popsicles.