Page 36 of Touch of Class

“We don’t do guns, either,” his mother reminded in a singsong voice.

“Here.” Tegan handed her a bag of community mental health resources, including a business card from each of them. “Good luck.”

The mother smiled faintly and ushered her child along, but no sooner were they out of earshot when Gillian turned to Sawyer. “How’d you know?”

“What? That he wanted to be something else for Halloween, or maybe his whole life?” Sawyer lifted one shoulder as if trying to force casualness into their tight tone. “This little game is all too reminiscent of my own childhood.”

“Which part?” Robin asked, wrapping an arm around their waist. “Unauthorized research on minors, or forcing kids to wear costumes that affirm their parent’s choices rather than respecting their own?”

“Both.”

“Of course,” Brooke said, “why would Maura limit herself to one trauma when she could compound them?”

Another group of children approached the table, but Gillian kept her eyes on Sawyer, no longer as interested in the data after the comparison they’d made. “We can stop.”

Sawyer waved her off. “If we avoided every situation Maura tried to clinical up for one of us over the years, this group would never be able to do anything.”

“Is it okay for me to ask who Maura is?” Daphne edged into the conversation gently. “The collective mood dropped drastically.”

“My mother,” Sawyer explained flatly.

“And the head of the graduate program Gillian and I graduated from,” Brooke added.

“She’s brilliant and brutal,” Robin said, holding Sawyer a little tighter. “And while she’s won every award and accolade the field has to offer, she’s not got any coffee mugs that read ‘World’s Best Mom’ to accompany them.”

“I was never the kind of child or adult who fit neatly into her research methodologies. More than once, I got accused of the great crime of inconsistent data points.” Sawyer lifted one shoulder. “So, the kid in a costume who doesn’t fit hits a little close to home.”

Gillian clenched her jaw at having been the one to set up the study that triggered Sawyer this time. Maura wasn’t even there, but her shadow still hung over both of them in different ways. At least Sawyer was working through theirs now. She wasn’t sure she could say the same.

Compassion filled Daphne’s eyes as she took Sawyer in. “I’m sorry you weren’t allowed to be fully yourself as a kid. It sucks bad enough to be compared to siblings or classmates, I can’t imagine having to contend with entire research pools.”

“Thanks. I’m getting better with it. Robin’s helped me lean into the pleasure of wrecking datasets.” Sawyer smiled, then turned to Gillian. “Not that I was trying to do so here. I just wanted to shed some light on my people. We don’t always get to wear the costume that fits us best.”

“I don’t know, Babe, the one you’re wearing tonight seems to fit pretty well, given how you lead women astray and into the darker part of the woods. I bet you could corrupt even the most diligent daughter to wander off the path tonight.”

“That’s a theory worth testing.” Sawyer laughed, and Gillian once again marveled at Robin’s ability to pull them back into themself, as well as Sawyer’s newfound ability to let themself be soothed … however inappropriately.

“Anyway,” Sawyer said, “I had fun with the game, and I absolutely would’ve been a potato kid.”

“Nerds for me.” Robin jumped in. “Sugar-coated sugar, baby.”

“I’m a Twix girl,” Tegan added.

“Chocolate peanut butter cups for me.” Brooke snagged her third Reese’s from the bucket.

Daphne pursed her lips together as if she were thinking about her answer, and Gillian watched for a moment as the wheels in her brain clearly ran through a whole list of possibilities, seemingly unable to decide, before something sparked in her eyes. “I think I may’ve broken the system, too.”

“How so?” Gillian asked, then kicked herself a bit for being so eager to continue this study.

“I never could choose. I loved so many candies and so many costumes I often got overwhelmed by all the choices, but one year I went as Frida Kahlo, and I may’ve picked KitKats, and the next year I was a jellyfish, and I might’ve been on the hunt for gummy bears. I’ve always been someone who loves everything so much, my joy drove a kind of impulsiveness that probably would’ve read as totally random to you.”

Gillian smiled at the explanation. “Joyful randomness is an apt descriptor of so many things I’ve noticed about you.”

Daphne arched an eyebrow. “Is that how you would’ve described me as a teen, though?”

She laughed lightly. “The word ‘random’ might’ve come up.”

“Aw, I didn’t spark joy?” Daphne teased. “Not like your numbers? Honestly, this research side of you really tracks. You would’ve totally been a fruit snacks kid. Hell, you’re a fruit snacks woman.”