to have the research at the bottom so this wouldn’t look staged. “I actually came across a study the other day suggesting otherwise.” She extended the printout and handed it to Mom. “Lots of parents are worried that their children who move out won’t do as well, but if the research is anything to go by, it’s the opposite. Check out these numbers—higher retention rates, less drug use, higher campus involvement, improved GPA, less time to graduation...looks like a win to me.”
As my parents bent over the paper, Birdie sent me a covert wink.
I’d never given her enough credit.
“Something to consider,” she said, then handed them another slip of paper. “If you could add your contact info here, I’ll work on matching Ginger with a student, at least, so she’ll have an ally on campus.”
Mom took the sheet and thanked her. “This is wonderful.”
“We find that the right supports and info can make a world of difference.” Birdie stood. “And if you have any questions or need me to look up more information on campus housing scholarships, you know where to find me.”
As my parents stood, I studied their faces, trying to find any hint possible of a changed mind. Could Mrs. Bardot have gotten through to them?
Mrs. Bardot waved. “It was great seeing you. Ginger, if you’ll stay behind, I’ll write you a pass for your next class.”
I stood with them and gave my parents a hug.
“Have a good day, sweetie,” Mom said.
“Bye, kiddo,” Dad said.
I waved and watched them walk away, their heads bent over the materials Mrs. Bardot had given them. They were actually reading it. Paying attention. Thinking about it. I wanted to squeal but didn’t want to get ahead of myself.
She stepped beside me and shut the door.
“Do you think it worked?” I rushed out.
“Time will tell,” she answered. “It needs to be their idea, or they won’t follow through on it.”
“How did you...”
“...know how to work with difficult parents?” she asked. “I work at the Academy.” She chuckled and scribbled a note on a piece of paper. “Bring this to Mr. Davis. And let me know how it goes with your parents! I’m pulling for you!”
Feeling hopeful, I hurried to videography. According to my watch, there were only a few minutes left, but maybe Ray and I could at least settle on an idea. Unfortunately, I’d misjudged how quickly I could walk there. The second I got into the classroom, the bell rang. There went my chance to settle anything concerning the video. Ray smirked at me. Smirked. Why was he always smirking? And what was so amusing to him?
I turned away from Ray to give Mr. Davis the note.
He looked at Birdie’s chicken scratch and said, “Important meeting? Ray said your parents were here.”
Students passed by us in a flurry of rustling papers and shifting backpacks. Jordan squeezed my arm on the way out and said, “See you at lunch.”
“Ginger?” Mr. Davis said, drawing my attention back to him.
“What else did Ray say?” I asked.
“That you guys were working well together and would have a great project by Monday.”
“Did he?”
With a nod, he clapped his hand on my shoulder. “I’m proud of you. It’s not easy to work with someone new, but I can see you and Ray have some real creative chemistry.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Arguing can be good in a creative duo!” he encouraged, nodding at a student entering the room. “Hey, even The Beatles had a few disagreements, and look what they created!”
The only Beatle Ray and I should be compared to was a stink bug. The mix of us couldn’t produce anything good, much less art. Still, I managed a smile. “Better get to my next class.”
“Get on,” Mr. Davis said. “Can’t wait to see your project!”
We were in agreement on one thing. I couldn’t wait to get the video over with and move on with my senior year.
Eleven
A curl tumbled out of my mom’s clip as she bent over her massive checklist. Apparently, going to LA for a long weekend with the twins, while her other two (nearly grown) daughters stayed with an aunt, was cause for enough planning to make up a wedding.
I adjusted my face mask and kept scrubbing the inside of the refrigerator with her vinegar and essential oils concoction. (Why the face mask? Just in case my asthma gets triggered. Cue the world’s largest eyeroll.) I knew from Jordan’s mom’s cleaning videos that vinegar didn’t do nearly as much as the strong, chemical stuff.
She released