“See? You’re upset right now. This is why I wish he’d talk to me before making plans. Traveling to London is a long trip. Does he want you to come over winter break? That’s too soon, and the weather might be bad. You could end up delayed in Chicago or something awful. I can’t have you stuck in an airport in some strange city alone. I’ll have to discuss it with him.” Her mind is already a thousand steps ahead of mine, seeking out any possible disaster scenario that might result from this suggestion. My heart sinks with every one.

“Forget it,” I say. “It was a stupid idea.” Mom just proved every theory I had about her reaction.

I splash just enough milk into my cereal to make Mom feel like I’m doing my part to stave off future osteoporosis, but my efforts are wasted because my sugar and calcium consumption seem to be the last thing on her mind. She’s on her feet and headed to the stove before I even take a seat at the bar.

“One, two, three, four,” she chants to herself, her hands fluttering over the knobs of the stove like lost birds. Maybe I don’t have to worry about her when I leave — maybe she’ll be so busy counting things that she won’t even notice I’m gone.

I try to tune her out amidst all the other Sunday-morning white noise: the gutter dripping outside with the last of the night’s rain, the kitchen radio softly playing the classical station, and the whoosh of the heater sending a blast of warm air over my socks under the bar. I shove a spoonful of future diabetes into my mouth as my phone buzzes with a message from Will. It’s a photo he took at the pumpkin patch with his family and Kitty this morning before heading to Planet Quest Con. He’s smiling right into the camera holding an enormous pumpkin, Kitty is looking at him adoringly with her arm looped through his, and Will’s little brother, Dylan, is photobombing in the background with wide eyes and his tongue so far out of his head he looks like an anteater on crack.

The picture makes me wonder what it would be like to know that kind of happiness. I feel like I might have at one time, but perhaps it was just a dream.

Ha-ha. See you this afternoon, I write back to Will, not sure what else to say.

Hope you’re ready to play meat shield, he responds.

I groan. That’s what I get for bumming two rides home last week.

Me: Prepare for friendly fire and revenge by chain saw.

Will: Whatever you want AFTER we beat the DLC.