I point out the door and smirk as she goes to fetch Pamela, who rushes inside. “You could have told me it was time.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt you,” I sign back with a shrug.
“Okay, now that we’re all ready,” Ms. Lily says, and Pamela interprets. “I wanted to share the good news in person.”
It better be good news. I swear, if I spent all Monday night brushingup on algebra, as well as having to show up to school at seven for a Tuesday morning test, it better have been worthwhile.
“You passed the placement!” Ms. Lily congratulates me with ASL applause.
“I’m so excited!” This is a tremendous relief.
I needed this piece of the puzzle to fit because I didn’t have any sort of backup plan. Everything about moving out was really hinging on the success of passing a math test. Who would’ve thought?
“We’ll get you set up to transfer into the college credit course next semester.” She reaches across the desk to hand me a piece of paper. There’s a long link that I’m going to have to type out to get to a website. Maybe this would’ve been better as an email. “Here’s some information on how to officially register, and that will make you eligible for the student ID card for job purposes, as well.”
“Thank you, thank you,” I say and sign while rushing out the door, then spend the rest of study hall on my laptop getting the registration and student portal all set up, as well as applying for the ACC library job.
Once I submit my application, I tab back to my inbox to look at the email that’s been there for a few days: the lease for the house. It’s waiting for signatures. When I get the job, I will sign that—there’s no going back. I send a text to my future roomies.
ELLIE:
I THINK I’M ACTUALLY GOING TO BE ABLE TO MOVE IN! JUST APPLIED FOR THE JOB!
The group chat lights up, and Izzy replies right away.
IZZY:
I’m with my boss right now and gonna tell him to look at your application asap!!!
I’m buzzing with excitement. Last night, I’d gone with my friends to tour the house, but I was trying not to get my hopes up in case everything fell through. I’ve really got my heart set on it.
The room that would be mine is on the ground floor. The walls are painted blue. There’s a tiny little closet and creaky old floors. Still, I sent Kayla photos, and we both drooled over the possibility of it being our new home. She hasn’t sorted everything out with her parents yet, either, but I’ve got a good feeling.
Chapter Thirty-six
Jackson
The five-day courseof IV steroids brings my hospital stay to over a week. It’s playing with my mood. Up, down. Happy, sad. Energetic, tired. Glad my parents are with me, annoyed they haven’t left my side. But the steroids do seem to be curtailing this flare-up, as I regain sensation in my limbs and the numbness fades.
Now I’m the one walking back and forth in the hallway, gratefully clutching the cane they gave me. I haven’t seen my old lady neighbor in a few days—hopefully she’s back home and well. I don’t know what she was in for, and I don’t want to consider the alternative.
Finally, I’m cleared to go. I’ll get to sleep in my own bed again. And leave here in one piece. I’ve been taking everything one day at a time, but now that this part of the saga is over, emotions hit hard. I’m not going home the same. I’m going home someone diagnosed with MS.
Back at the house, my parents and I sit around the table for dinner, out of things to chat about. I push a pile of peas around my plate withthe third fork I’ve used this evening. My right hand couldn’t manage to keep hold of the other two, so I guess I’m a lefty for tonight. My grip isn’t totally back yet. And there’s still a bit of ongoing tingling, which I can sometimes forget, yet other times it’s all I can think about.
“When do I have to go back to school?” I ask.
“Not until next semester,” Mom says, and I jolt in surprise. “I’ve already got you excused for an academic leave of absence for health reasons.”
“That’s a good idea.” There’s no way I would’ve been able to catch up at this point. Yet a sinking feeling nags at me. Another negative added to a huge pile of disappointing things I’m dealing with right now. Everything I did in high school was to prepare for college, and I’m not sure an incomplete semester looks great on a transcript.
But feeling the weight of the diagnosis, I don’t even see the point now. Am I still supposed to go study business and spend every remaining day of my life at a plastics company? Likely without any extra stamina to pour my spare time into something like CrossFit the way my dad does.
It all seems bleak. I’ve lost any enthusiasm for that path. Whether my parents like it or not, MS is going to have me making some changes to my plans.
“You’re always so positive,” Mom says, completely unaware of how I’m feeling. “I’m inspired by how well you’re taking this diagnosis. I know it’s hard.”
No, what was hard was pretending I didn’t hear my mom stifling her tears while curled up on the hospital couch each night. She seems more upset than I am. It’s probably more difficult watching this happen to me. I’m just here, taking everything one step at a time.
