I Was Told It Would Get Easier(45)
I could hear my mom’s phone pinging away in the bathroom while she was in there, and wondered if she was talking to that guy. But when she came out she was in her flannel nightie and had taken off her makeup and was my regular mom again. Phew. I even put away my phone, and I’m not ashamed to say we snuggled and watched The Land Before Time, which is not in any way historically accurate. I also finished the metal model Grandpa gave me. It’s a dragon. My mom has kept all the models I’ve made over the years and I really hope she doesn’t expect me to take them to college. If it were up to me I’d chuck the lot, but you know how sentimental parents are.
After the movie was over and the lights were out, another thought occurred to me.
“Mom?”
“Mmm?” Her voice was sleepy.
“What exactly is the Peace Corps?”
She turned over in bed, tugging the quilt tighter. “I’m too tired to explain it in detail, but basically it’s this thing where people, usually young people, sign up to spend a year or more in a country where they’re needed, to do whatever work is asked of them, in order to help local people.”
“Wow, that’s a pretty detailed explanation, for a tired person.”
Her voice was sleepy. “I’m a highly trained professional.”
“Would you ever do it?”
She paused. “Not now. Maybe when I was young. But it’s kind of a luxury, to be able to spend a year not working on your actual life. People do it, of course. People take their kids and stuff, even.”
“He did it.”
“Sure, very noble, but all I could think about was that he’d wandered off for a year to find himself, leaving his ex-wife alone with two young kids who’ve just gone through a divorce. Kind of a dick move, right?”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.”
She mumbled something. She was drifting off.
“What kind of things do they do?”
“Not sure . . . build schools, dig wells, that kind of thing.” She half snored and caught herself. “Google it.” Then she fell asleep completely.
Wednesday
Pennsylvania
8:00 a.m.: Theme breakfast: Fears!
9:00 a.m.: Check out of the hotel
10:00 a.m.: University of Pennsylvania
12:00 p.m.: Lunch at the Philadelphia Museum of Art—café meal included! Note: The museum is open this time! Art it up!
2:00 p.m.: Drive 25 minutes on the E3 College Coach 3:00 p.m.: Swarthmore College
Drive 1 hour and 4 minutes to New Jersey on the E3 College Coach 6:00 p.m.: Check into hotel in Princeton 7:00 p.m.: Dinner at Einsteins—a math-themed diner! (Two courses included.)
13
EMILY
This morning the breakfast was back to pastries, and after a bit of a scuffle over the limited number of cinnamon rolls, people stood about uncertainly, waiting to be told where to sit. I was too slow for a cinnamon roll, but I did snag a chocolate croissant, the silver medal of pastries. I got a cup of tea, too, because I had what Mom calls an emotional hangover from the previous evening. I’m sure you’ve had one: Everything is a little bit loud, you seem to have lost a few layers of skin, and tears are a distinct possibility. I think Mom has one, too; she and I have barely spoken, but not in an unfriendly way. Just in a not-speaking way that could go either way any second. Mom taught me that emotional hangovers need four things to dissipate: caffeine, sugar, space, and time. Sometimes she’s very wise; don’t tell her I told you so.
I walked over to Will. He’d snagged a cinnamon roll, of course, but he tore off a piece and offered it to me. I waved the croissant at him.
“How was the Rocky thing?”
“The steps? Surprisingly fun.” He lowered his voice. “It was a classic example of the gap between perception and reality.”
“How so?”
He grinned and leaned in a little closer. I could smell the hotel soap on him, as if he’d been in the shower with me not thirty minutes earlier.
“Well, in the movie, he runs up the whole flight of stairs, right, which is not what happened last night. People stationed someone at the top, sprinted up the last few, and then raised their arms for the picture.” He took a bite of cinnamon roll. “Although Sam and Casper decided to actually run the whole thing and Sam had to stop halfway to pull out his inhaler. Casper made it to the top in record time, then revealed the other school office he holds is secretary of the cross-country club.”
“Sam is . . . ?”
Will narrowed his eyes at me. “Sam is Falling Mother. Casper you already know.” He chewed. “We’re all actual people, you know. It’s not only you and Alice on the tour.”
I was surprised, and started to ask him what he meant, but Cassidy launched into her speech.
“Good morning, tourists!” (She’d probably come up with that in the shower and was clearly pleased with it.) “Here are today’s seating groups.”
Oh, fantastic.
JESSICA
Looking across the table at Alice, I realized a lack of eye contact was a constant for teenagers. It’s not that they won’t look at you, it’s that they have many other things to look at and, to be honest, they’ve seen you before.