“I know that you and Emily have been getting closer and that that might mean some bed-based activities—”

“Whoa—okay,” I interrupted, blushing furiously. “Let’s—”

“So if you were over at her dorm, wasting the afternoon in dreamland—”

“Mom, you like Emily,” I pointed out, feeling prickly at the way she was making it sound like she was some kind of accomplice. Like I didn’t rush over to see Emily the moment I got out of the AM, like I don’t relish every single moment I spend awake with her.

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I think she could be good for you, which is why I don’t love the idea of you using her as another way to get your fix—”

And there it was. My mom wasn’t concerned that Emily was an accomplice—she was worried for Emily. That I would be a negative force in my own girlfriend’s life.

I thought I had gotten the monster under control, tamed it enough while I was in the AM, trusted that my family loved me enough to let some things go, but suddenly it roared up inside of me, remembering how my mom looked proud of Emily when she talked about her poetry at Thanksgiving and how I couldn’t remember the last time she looked at me like that.

“My fix?” I yelled. “God, can’t I get a break? I just spent two weeks in an institution because you weren’t happy with the way I was using my power and now you’re giving me crap about it?”

“Rose, it isn’t healthy—”

“Have you seen me sleeping?” I demanded. “I’ve been so much better since I came back, which you would know if you ever asked about me!”

“Or maybe I would understand if you spent more time with us!” my mom shouted back, starting to pace again. “I know you’ve been doing better, which I why I thought that you’d actually want to spend time with us, with your family—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you,” I said. “I forgot about today—”

“But it’s not just about today.” My dad folded his newspaper down so he could look at me as he talked. “I don’t care that you weren’t here to help me fix the broiler—”

“I’ll fix it tomorrow, I promise—”

“That’s not the point, Rose, that’s what I’m trying to say.” He sighed. “The point is that you’ve been avoiding all of us for months. And we know that it’s hard adjusting to an Atypical ability but we’re here for you.”

“I’m not—I’m adjusting fine.” I sighed. “I just have other things going on in my life!”

“Things more important than your family?” my mom asked, coming to stand in front of me, her arms crossed.