“Good to see you, too,” I reply, forcing a smile.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Dad says, grunting slightly as he stands to offer me a side hug. His very short, completely gray hair is slicked back, and he sports his trademark rectangular glasses. “Thanks for driving all the way up here for us.”
“No problem. I’m sorry I hadn’t made the trip sooner.”
We all sit down, and I peruse the menu. I checked it online before I left this morning, but my nerves have wiped my memory.
“We’ve brought you here before, haven’t we?” Mom asks, frowning at me.
“It only opened last year, Susan,” Dad says, peering down at his phone.
“Oh, well, you’ll love it,” Mom insists. “Your dad and I come here after church almost every Sunday.”
I nod, habitually opening my silverware roll to drape the cloth napkin across my lap. “That’s nice,” I remark. “Does it get any more crowded than this?”
Mom shakes her head. “Not really. But we’ve befriended the owner, so even if there’s a wait, he can usually pull some strings for us.” She winks at me.
I manage to smile at her before skimming the menu one last time, deciding just in time for the server to take our orders. He brings a plate of freshly sliced bread with tiny cups of seasoned butter, which Dad wastes no time dividing among the three of us.
“So, tell us everything!” Mom eagerly demands as she spreads butter on her slice of bread. “How are classes going? How’s Celeste? Have you met any nice boys?”
A brief image of Oliver flashes in my memory, and part of me wonders whether mentioning him could distract fromany reference to Nikki. We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. “Classes are good,” I answer. “I’m still wrapping up my core requirements, but my schedule’s been great this semester. I’ve got a steady routine for studying, doing homework, and managing my workload. I even have time to go to the gym a couple of days a week.”
Mom’s smile widens. “That’s amazing, sweetie! Good for you for making time to exercise!”
“Well done,” Dad adds. “You’re not going to the gym alone, are you?”
I take a sip of my ice water before answering. “I go during the day, so there are always other students there at the same time.”
“What about Celeste?” Mom asks. “You should convince her to go with you!”
“Might be extra good for her,” Dad mutters.
Great, Dad’s already making fatphobic comments about my friend barely five minutes into lunch. Rather than react, I fix my gaze on the two slices of bread left in the middle of the table, focusing hard on keeping my face neutral.
“Bill!” Mom hisses. “Don’t be rude.”
“What?” Dad says, raising his hands defensively. “The gym is good for everyone!”
Mom rolls her eyes but recovers and turns her attention back to me. “How is Celeste, anyway?”
“Good,” I reply, pulling off a small piece of bread and nibbling on it. “She recently joined the school’s newspaper, so that’ll give her some experience and will look nice on her resume.”
“That’s great!” Mom exclaims. “What about you? Have you joined any clubs or organizations? Or do you have any time for that?”
Shit. “Oh, no, not yet. I’ve been trying to be more social this semester, since last year I was…” I struggle to find the rightwords. Depressed? Betrayed? Emotionally unstable? “…a little too cooped up in my own world.”
“Well, socializing is important, too,” Mom agrees. “And how about, um—shoot, what’s his name? Matt? Mack? Celeste’s little friend?”
“Max.”
“That’s right! Max! He started at Eidola, too, right? How’s that going?”
“It’s been great! We’ve been going to community events together—the three of us and a few of Max’s friends. Movie nights and stuff like that.”
Mom’s eyes light up. “Ooh, are any of Max’s friends cute?”
Despite my best efforts, I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, they’re all pretty cute. But they’re not really my type.”
