I just went to get a glass of water (thanks for the reminder to hydrate, Zavesca!), and I could hear them talking downstairs.
“There’s no way,” Dad was saying.
“But what’s the point of telling her that?” Mom whispered back. “You know what that would do.”
“I’m on her side! We’re both on her side! I want her to go and live and be happy. But how are we supposed to ignore fuckin’ science, Gia?”
“Stop cursing.”
“I’m serious!” Dad’s voice was almost raised now.
Mom made a shushing noise. “She’s doing great right now. I don’t think anything will get worse for a long time. She gets to just… be herself. I refuse to treat her any differently.”
“This isn’t cancer, G. The thought of her… forgetting to do things, or forgetting where she is, or forgetting who we are.”
“I know.”
Long silence. A couple of sniffs. I wondered if they could hear me listening. I held my breath.
“She only has a few weeks until school is over,” Mom finally said. “I say we let things take their course.”
“You’re right,” Dad said.
“Really?”
“Yeah. We take all the safety precautions, but we don’t, you know, force her into a cocoon. The specialist said it was better that she doesn’t get depressed.”
“Exactly.”
I hate that word. To hear it was just like it sounded, like two giant hands pressing down on me from above and below. I’m not depressed. I may be pressed, sure. I’ve got a limited timeline and lots to do, and sometimes the pressure is a lot, and sometimes it feels like I’m just pushing myself onward for the sake of pushing myself, but I am not depressed.
Dad continued. “But we’ll just agree together that, no, she is just not in a place to go to New York next year.”
“Agreed,” Mom said.
I let out my breath. Red flashed in the dark, and I realized I had my eyes squeezed shut.
“Thank you,” I could hear Mom say.
“For what?”
“For being on my team.”
Then I could hear them kissing. Ew.
I almost went downstairs to argue, but then I stopped. I remembered a key phrase. Dad said, she IS not in a place to go to New York next year. Is. Of course they would say that right after an episode. They’re only thinking of the present. You and I know, Future Sam, that the present is merely a road to something else. Whatever’s ahead.
The other good thing to come out of this is that they’re not going to try to take me out of school again, at least that’s what it sounds like. So, this is bargaining, Future Sam.
This is where they give you an inch, and inch by inch, you take a mile.
I mean, sure, they’ll say, Sammie can finish out the school year, but can she keep her grades up?
I mean, sure, Sammie can keep her grades up, but can she be valedictorian?
I mean, sure, Sammie can be valedictorian, but can she make it through a semester at NYU?
And so on. So I’ll just show them I can do those things. I can do them all. And then they won’t be able to stop me from going to college, not when I’ve proved to them I can do it.
They’ll see.