his science, I had Columbia.
You stared at me for a second, a little startled by my lit-up smile.
“Wow…”
“What?”
“It’s been a long time since I have seen that smile.”
“I know where I want to go!” I jabbed a finger at the flyer.
You peered past me to read it.
“Columbia University? New York, huh?”
“Yes!” I was practically at Jameson-level enthusiasm. “I am starting my application now. I want to send it in early.”
You looked at me with a soft smile on your face. “Then you’ll go.”
Your words coaxed my confidence, making it feel possible. There was a pencil tucked behind your ear and a bit of orange paint on your pants and for a moment, I felt sad thinking about you in a suit and tie. I felt sad thinking about a world without your brushstrokes. “You will too.”
You blinked. “Me? I’ll go to Columbia?”
“You have to tell your parents.” I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t have to because recognition pulled your lips into a small o of understanding.
“I just think that … if we can, we should try our best to be happy.”
You chewed on your lip and looked away from me.
“Tell me right now that you want to go to business school. Tell me that and I won’t bother you again about it.”
You looked at me. You didn’t say a word.
34
Depression,
You were a tricky thing. I wanted to be able to scrub you clean and make you shiny so you didn’t feel like you were rotting inside of me. I wanted to throw my weight behind you and tip you off the Earth. I wanted to slam my door in your face when you came calling. Sometimes, when I felt strong, I did. I threw you into the basement. I screamed you into submission. I tricked you into the closet. I prettied you up and pretended that everything was all right.
But when you hit and I was unprepared or was already teetering on unsteady legs, I didn’t have the lungs to yell, or the weight to shove, or the energy to pretend. You just swept me up and away, so far away. You nibbled on my fingertips and haunted my peripheral vision like a ghost with unfinished business, and that business was me. You hadn’t won, and you like to win.
That’s why I make worlds in ink, so I can sweep myself away and wish and dream and make believe, and it will feel real for just enough time to let me build up strength again so I can face you and win.
And when I start writing my essay for Columbia, I write all our secrets because on the page, you can’t break me.
35
Father,
I sprinted up the steps and sailed right through the front door. I was high on possibility. I wanted to run up to my room and make paper angels out of all the Columbia information that I had printed at school the day before. I was about to pound up the stairs when I heard your voice coming from the living room. “Ellie.”
“Yes, Father?” Pleaseleavemealonepleaseleavemealone.
“Come here.”
I went into the living room, the smile off my face. I immediately felt small. I immediately felt afraid. I immediately wanted to run.
I stood in silence.
You were sitting with a pile of papers in your hands. You leaned back in your chair. “Do we keep secrets in this house, Ellie?”
“N—no.” I shook my head. “No, we don’t.”
You flipped the stack around and I saw the columns of Dodge Hall and the map of Columbia’s campus. You had been in my room.
“Then what are these?”
“Just information on a college.”
“This college isn’t local.”
“I—I know. I just saw it and it has a good program and so I wanted to keep the information. I—I won’t be applying.” I was lying.
“So you printed over fifty pages of information just for the fun of it?” You started to stand. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
Lighter open. Lighter shut.
“No, I just printed the information.”
He nodded, pretending to believe me. “That’s good. Because you aren’t leaving this house. Ellie, your place is here with your momma and me.”
“I know that.”
“Good.” The lighter lit and you burned the pages.
I turned on my heel and went up the stairs.
36
August,
The night that Father burned those pages, he told me that if I ever tried to break my promise, if I ever tried to leave, Momma would be lonely. “What would happen to her?” he said. Lighter open. Lighter shut. Eyes staring out the window. A threat.
I nodded. I was wrung dry, all the enthusiasm