Me, Myself, and I

diagnosis

My laptop case felt cold in my hand the next morning. The email had been saved as a draft alongside the others to Delcoph Community College and NYU. Always questions that I was too scared to hear the answers to.

My legs were stiff where they'd been pressed against the fountain edge. I pulled on jeans instead of the tights I'd laid out.

I tiptoed around Dad's office. I could hear him typing away.

Stacks was closing in a few days. A last hurrah kind of thing. Everything was half off. Alex asked if I'd want to double with him and Leah and Joey, who were visiting home. The answer in my head and the one out of my mouth weren't the same. So of course I'd go.

Alex was alone in the booth. I frowned at the dampening wood floors, the bare walls. Two more days and the place would be desolate. My last Stacks coffee. I slid next to Alex. His head was hovering over a few textbooks.

"Sorry." He unhunched himself and slid the book towards me. "I've got a huge test on Monday. Can you quiz me while we wait? Practice questions are at the back. We're on chapter five."

I nodded and stared down at the gibberish. "What subject is this?"

"Econ 101."

"Um...okay." I pointed to a random number. Why were these questions in paragraphs? That didn't seem right. "Try five."

"You're pointing at six."

I blinked. "Do preparations...with my, uh. Alex, this is economics gibberish."

"No, it's not." He frowned.

I closed the book. "Do mother's who abandon their families deserve financial assistance from the dope of a father?"

"What?"

"I found her. My mom. I know where she is."

Well, that was not how I'd rehearsed that.

He rolled his eyes. "I thought you'd dropped this."

"Actually, no, last time I saw you I told you that this is what I was going to go do. So, well, I did it."

He adjusted his cap. "Imagine if you applied yourself like this in school? You could've ended up—"

"Ended up what, Alex? Applying myself didn't do jack in high school, why would it be any different here?"

He pushed the textbook back at me. "Just quiz me on a couple, please. I'd really rather not join you in your hyper-focused delusional fantasy."

"It's not a fantasy! That woman...my dad has been giving her help. I know he has."

"So, you think it's a good idea to drop everything and go see her?" He lowered his tone. His hands felt wrong in mine, like I had grabbed somebody else's purse. "You need to move on. You need to go live the life you deserve to. And I know you can do that. You just won't let yourself move on because you are waiting for something impossible to happen."

I unfolded my hands, wiped my dry eyes, and picked up a menu. "I—"

"Hey, guys!"

Leah's jet-black hair had grown a tad, nearly touching the nape of her neck. She and Joey scooted to the other side. He seemed like he'd grown, somehow, the way Ben had, the way I should have. I slid the textbook back over to Alex.

The old gang, huddled around the booth like it was a roasting campfire. Peppers wafted the air as the waiter skirted to a stop beside us, plopped the doughy goodness in the center. Greasy hands emptied half the tray in seconds. But I stared. My eyes kept crawling back to the menu, the blurry numbers. Fancy as the textbook. The seven that looked like a twenty nine to me. No. No, nine. The letters were shapes of something else.