By the way, a friend of mine from school is also volunteering.
I didn’t.
We moved on to the logistics for the fundraising dinner, and I could have brought up Anthony then.
I didn’t.
And then Dad jumped in to tell Ethan that I’d asked Grant to join us at the dinner.
“Wait,” Ethan had said. “Are you and Grant a thing? He and Katherine did break up.”
“We’re not a thing,” I said.
“They’re both concentrating on the future right now,” Dad said. Then he winked at me. “But they could be a thing.”
“They did get married,” Mom said. “Ethan, you officiated.”
“I was six!” I sputtered.
The three of them laughed. Then they’d started in about Grant.
“He’s a great guy.”
“Smart.”
“Ambitious.”
“A scientist on a similar path.”
“You two have always had so much in common.”
When I clapped my hands over my ears, Ethan laughed. “Come on, Mai. You’ve always liked the guy.”
Miserable, I could only shrug. I have always liked him. I do like him. The problem is, not like that. I like someone else way more.
But how did I say that? How could I bring up Anthony in front of the Grant Ellison cheer squad?
Grant.
I had to tell him about Anthony. And I had to uninvite him to the dinner. Even if he was a family friend, it wasn’t right.
But first I had to explain to my parents about Anthony.
My boyfriend.
Last night, we’d gone back to the party as us. When people noticed our hands locked together, things had gotten super awkward.
There was Delia. Surprise.
Cooper, Tucker, and Jason. Surprise.
Josie, the only one not surprised, was thrilled. Eventually, so was everyone else. Well, except Delia. When I told Josie about the boyfriend part, she’d hugged me and said Jane Austen would have been proud. High praise, indeed.
But now it feels like none of it actually happened. All my nervousness is back. What if I tell my parents about Anthony and they disapprove? What if they insist I break it off? I’ve never purposely gone against them. I’ve never even lied before. If they find out I’ve lied about Anthony, they’ll be so mad. So disappointed. That’s why it has to happen slowly. Why I have to do this exactly right.
I don’t want to disappoint them. I don’t want them to look at me and not see a Senn. I don’t want them to look at me and wish they’d chosen a different baby. Talk about stupid brain wiring. My frontal lobe knows it’s not rational. But my amygdala, down deep in the center of my brain, knows that I had birth parents who had me and didn’t want me. Who gave me away.
I wasn’t even rebelling the day we went hiking. Mom told me to stay put on the trail, yes, but I was only thinking I’d catch up to Dad. Once I realized I was lost, I sat down to wait. I wasn’t afraid. I knew my parents would find me.
But they didn’t find me.
I waited as it got darker. As noises whispered from the brush. As a scared voice in my head wondered if maybe they weren’t looking. If maybe they weren’t coming back. I had run off. I had disobeyed. I was too much trouble. There were other girls. Other babies. Good babies. I thought of all the things I’d done that I shouldn’t have.
Climbing the neighbor’s tree to see the baby birds.
Refusing to eat green beans.
Spilling my finger paint water on the carpet.
In my seven-year-old brain, little things grew into big things. Monstrous things spreading in the dark. Fear gained such a hold on me that it’s never once let go of its grip.
After that day on the trail, I’ve never veered off the path again.
Until Anthony.
Ethan pauses in front of a three-way display showing brains in development. More worms. I check my phone. Anthony’s last text was two hours ago. Nothing new. That’s good. Maybe I can put him off for a day. Or two.
“You expecting a message?”
“What?” I look at Ethan.
“You keep checking your phone.”
“I’m not.” I slide it back in my pocket.
Ethan steps closer, frowning. “You okay, Mai? You seem different.”
“I do?”
“Distracted, I guess. You thinking about college?”
I smile inwardly. Ethan is usually really good at reading me. He was my friend before he was legally my brother. There are hundreds of pictures of us growing up. We look nothing alike, but I was too young to know that meant anything. He was my person. He showed me how to be a Senn.
A Senn, I discovered, could be anything. Everything.
Except a disappointment.
I sigh, realizing I’m going to have to tell him something. Maybe this is the time. My pulse kicks up as I say, “Some of it is that high school is over. I miss it more than I thought I would.”
“You miss Cholla?”
“Not Cholla, exactly. The people I got to be friends with.”
“You’re going to make new friends at college.”
“That doesn’t mean I won’t miss people I know now.”
“At first,” he agrees. “But give it a few months. When you go to a public high school like we did, your friends are your friends because you all live in the same school zone. But in college, you choose where you go. You’re with kids more like you. Kids you want to be with. Trust me. There’s no one at Cholla worth your time.”
His words grate on me, especially after what Josie told me. “You’re such an elitist.”
“I am.” He smiles. “But that doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Not every worthy person is an Ivy Leaguer.”
“Of course not,” he says. His eyes soften as he smiles at me. “But every person worthy of you is.”
“Well said,” Dad chimes in as he walks up, Mom beside him.
“I like knowing people who are different from me,” I say.
“As you should.” Dad nods approvingly.
Now! Do it now!
“About that—” I start, but Mom cuts me off.
“Shall we go?” she says. “Dinner should only take a few minutes to get ready.”
Dinner. That’s better. I’ll do it during dinner. As we head out, I make a promise to myself. No more putting it off.