“Whenever it was, I distinctly remember it prompting a conversation about you staying out of my love life,” I muttered. The memory of looking my mom straight in the eye and asking her to back off still makes my skin crawl. Usually evasion and deflection are the best modes of escape with my family, but some things require a stronger hand. And BOY do I hate that.

“Oh, are we sticking to that?” she asked innocently. I turned my back on her again, facing the stove in the hopes that giving my full attention to dinner would be a sign that she could leave me alone for the time being. A hollow wish.

“I just think it might do you some good. You never hang out with your high school friends anymore—”

“Because they’re all away at college…” I explained calmly, the air around me filling with steam and making this already oppressive conversation even more claustrophobic. I didn’t mention that plenty of them ended up at college in the city because then I would be forced to admit that we weren’t really all that good friends to begin with.

“—and I know that Aaron has invited you to go see a movie with him a few times this summer.” Her voice was moving into dangerous “you’re making me sad, Rose” territory, and I really hated wading in those particular waters.

“Pity invites from my brother aren’t exactly the height of social life.” I wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist—I can normally handle the heat of the kitchen, but I had started to feel distinctly sweaty and woozy.

“I wouldn’t know what your ideal social life would be, Rose,” she continued, like a dog with a bone. “That’s part of the problem.”

I sighed. I avoided confrontation with my mother at all costs but she’s so unrelenting about this stuff. I turned toward her, keeping my voice steady, trying to explain this as rationally as possible.

“Just because I want to live my life a little differently from you doesn’t mean—”

And that’s when I passed out.

I know! This journal just got interesting.

I don’t know where I went—if I did go anywhere at all. I remember everything going black, a quick flash of light, and then I woke up on my back to see my mom’s face above me, pulled tight in worry, her hands gripping my shoulders to shake me awake.

“’M fine,” I mumbled, though I wasn’t sure that I was. She made a fuss over me all the same, making me sit down at the kitchen counter while she attempted to finish dinner for me. “Attempted” is maybe harsh—she actually did a pretty good job even if I did have to add a lot more salt at the last second.