“And I am seriously done with the clarinet.” I stuff my mouth with cheeseburger while everyone else picks at their yellow beets and snow peas. My mom looks away. Great. Now she is hurt because her playdate isn’t working out. I wonder at what point she’ll stop thinking that any random girl sort of near my age is my soul-mate-waiting-to-happen? Like the whole Paige/Madison thing worked out so well for me. To say nothing of Twyla. How about if I went out and set up a dinner for her with the first middle-aged woman I ran into at Walmart, then sat back beaming, waiting for the instant, lifelong friendship to start?
My mom goes to the dessert carousel and returns with a plate loaded with sweets. “Can you believe this? They’re all vegan.”
I stab a piece of cake and take a bite. “Yeah, it’s amazing that just by taking out eggs and butter and sugar and pretty much everything else that makes cake cake, they can create a product with the exact texture and taste of a pink sponge. Super yum.” I smile a big fake smile as I chew. If nothing else, I’ve given Tinsley permission not to be a suck-up. I figure she is finding this process as excruciating as I am. I am wrong.
Tinsley takes a delicate bite of the cake and mutters, “Actually, Mama and I have been vegan for almost three years.” Her eyes meet her mother’s. “We always were vegetarian. Then, three years ago, Mama witnessed to me about the suffering of dairy cows and egg-laying chickens. We prayed over it and I just knew I could not be part of that cycle of unconsciousness any longer.”
Mmm, thanks, Mom. How do you do it? A tongue-studded, Christian, vegan suck-up. You know me too well.
As we leave the dining hall, my mom informs me that she has signed me up to spend the night in the dorm.
“Without asking me?”
“I’m sorry, I noticed that the deadline was coming up, so I just went ahead and signed you up. I meant to tell you.”
“So I’m supposed to what? Spend the night with some random person? Gee, I hope it’s a transgendered Mennonite who only eats pine needles.” Did I say that out loud? Inner Bitch has arrived to protect me.
“It’s a great opportunity to get a real feel for the Peninsula community.”
“Oh, I’m getting a ‘real feel.’ ”
“Aubrey, please. Come on.”
“What? I’m supposed to be Riverdancing at the prospect of spending the night with some stranger? Who, I’m really sure, is going to be just as thrilled as I am about getting some high school kid dumped on her. Or him.” Thank you, Inner Bitch. You get off some good lines.
“Aubrey, they would not put you in a boy’s room.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t it be sexist or antifeminist or gender-specific or something like that?”
“Aubrey, you’re being—” A bitch? Bingo.
“God, Mom, you love this place so much, why don’t you just buy one of those caps with the weird dog-ear flaps and go here yourself?”
“There is no need for that tone or that attitude. This trip is for you. I took off work. Canceled classes—”
“Fine! OK, I’m an ungrateful bitch. I’ll spend the night in the dorm.”
“No, never mind. We’ll just tour the dorms tomorrow.”
Mom is quiet for a long time and I almost apologize and muzzle Inner Bitch, but before I can, she jumps in and starts telling me about all the different kinds of dorms there are. “They have all these learning communities. The art students have a wing. And the science kids. I read online about how one semester all the drama students picked someone from Shakespeare and stayed in character for the entire term.”
Mom goes on about “quiet dorms” and “substance-free dorms.” But she isn’t doing her usual superexcited sell job, so I don’t have to push back so hard.
“Yeah, Mom, we’ll check them all out tomorrow.”
We stay at a Red Roof Inn near the campus. As we pull into the parking lot, Mom gets a little smile on her face and I know that she is remembering how when I was little motels were this gigantic treat for me. Since we’ve never had cable, motels meant I could gorge on Nickelodeon and the Disney Channel.
In the room, I crawl into bed with the laptop and Mom throws the blackout curtains open. “Oh, my God, this view! I can’t get enough of this view! Want to get something delivered?”