The Beginning of Everything(65)

“I thought you could use some cheering up,” she said, gesturing toward the kitchen table, which was blanketed in at least a dozen layers of newsprint and guilt. So I sat and we carved smiling faces into our pumpkins and chatted until I was reasonably certain she wouldn’t make me participate in any more cheering-up activities in the foreseeable future.

“I made you an appointment with Dr. Cohen,” Mom said when she put our finished jack-o’-lanterns by the front door.

I stopped clicking the little LED on and off and stared at her in horror, realizing that this had been her itinerary all along. The pumpkins were just the first stop on her all-expenses-paid guilt trip.

“Mom, no.”

Cooper, who was investigating the pumpkins, stared up at me, wondering why I was so upset.

“One appointment,” Mom said firmly. “You’re supposed to check in, you know this. Can you hand me that light?”

I scowled and handed her the LED I’d been playing with.

“I don’t need to see a therapist.”

Mom sighed. Adjusted the jack-o’-lantern. Made it clear we weren’t discussing this on the front steps because, God forbid, the neighbors might overhear. Finally, she closed the front door and pursed her lips at my attitude.

“I’m fine,” I insisted. “I got dumped, that’s all.”

“This isn’t negotiable,” Mom said. “I’m sorry, honey, but your father and I agree on this one. I made you an appointment after school on Wednesday.”

“What if I’m not exactly jumping at the chance to drive myself over there and talk to a doctor about my personal life?” I asked.

I knew I was being an ass, but I didn’t care. She couldn’t just spring this on me. Expect me to go back to that office where the last time Dr. Cohen had seen me, I’d been on crutches, my pocket rattling with a bottle of prescription painkillers, trying to get over the news that I’d never play college sports. To have to catch him up on all of the things he’d never understand, about Cassidy and Toby and my old friends. To discuss my life like it was the plot of some novel I’d read but hadn’t really understood.

“You can sulk about it all you want,” Mom warned, “but if you miss that appointment, you’re losing your car privileges for the month. Even for school. I don’t mind driving you, you know.”

“Great,” I said, wandering into the kitchen so I could glare at the pantry because of course she wouldn’t have bought any Halloween candy. At least I wasn’t in danger of suffering from kummerspeck, or emotion-related overeating, in our house.



LUKE HELD ANOTHER floating movie theater on Saturday night, some sort of classic fright fest in the gym, and of course I wasn’t invited. Toby insisted that I should just come anyhow, but I didn’t think it would go over well. In the end, I wound up attending Jill’s big Halloween party, which I’d halfway been planning to back out of at the last minute.

I just wanted to stay home, since I’d been sort of exhausted lately. But it turned out I couldn’t spend Halloween watching my mom hand out those little boxes of raisins to dismayed trick-or-treaters while my dad typed up some important document in his home office, sighing every time the doorbell rang. So I picked up some plastic fangs and body glitter on my way over to Jill’s. It was pretty pathetic, and I doubted anyone at the party would get that I meant it ironically, but it was all I could manage on short notice.

Jill lived in one of the older subdivisions on the lake, where most of the homes had been purchased for their lots and then rebuilt. Her backyard had a private dock, and her parents kept a sailboat there. Every year for her Halloween party, Jill decorated it as a ghost ship, complete with cobwebs and a Jolly Roger flag and a hull filled with beer.

Junior year, the entire tennis team had come dressed in bedsheet togas and played so many rounds of flip cup that I was still drunk when I woke up the next morning, something I hadn’t even known was possible.

The party was going strong when I got there. All of the girls seemed to be in costumes that consisted largely of lingerie and high heels, not that I was complaining. The football team had claimed a keg in the living room and some guys were attempting keg stands through a Hillary Clinton mask, which was just baffling enough to be plausible, since Connor MacLeary was involved. I walked past two girls in the kitchen in the same stripper Dorothy costume, who were screaming at each other while their friend tried to break it up by saying, “You guys! It’s not like you’re wearing the same prom dress!”

I tried not to laugh as I opened the screen door and stepped through into the backyard. I was starting to get the unfortunate impression that I’d arrived at the party too late. Some sophomores, whom I doubted had been invited, were already sick in the bushes, and cups littered the grass.

“Ezra!” Charlotte said, launching herself at me. She was a bit unsteady in her high heels, and seemed to be dressed as a Disney princess with a penchant for pole-dancing. “You came!”

“Of course,” I said. “Who could miss a pirate ship full of beer?”

“How come you’re not wearing a costume?” Charlotte asked. I couldn’t tell if she was teasing me.

“I’m a vampire,” I insisted, popping in the plastic fangs.

“Hmmm.” Charlotte considered this. “It’s more realistic without the fangs. Come on.”