“Come home from class and set the world record for number of episodes of Top Chef watched consecutively?”
Mom reached up to this shelf above my bed and grabbed Bluie, the blue stuffed bear I’d had since I was, like, one—
back when it was socially acceptable to name one’s friends after their hue.
You don’t want to go to a movie with Kaitlyn or Matt or someone?who were my friends.
That was an idea. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll text Kaitlyn and see if she wants to go to the mall or something after school.”
Mom smiled, hugging the bear to her stomach. “Is it still cool to go to the mall?” she asked.
“I take quite a lot of pride in not knowing what’s cool,” I answered.
I texted Kaitlyn, took a shower, got dressed, and then Mom drove me to school.
My class was American Literature, a lecture about Frederick Douglass in a mostly empty auditorium, and it was incredibly difficult to stay awake.
Forty minutes into the ninety-minute class, Kaitlyn texted back.
Awesomesauce. Happy Half Birthday. Castleton at 3:32? Kaitlyn had the kind of packed social life that needs to be scheduled down to the minute.
I responded: Sounds good. I’ll be at the food court. Mom drove me directly from school to the bookstore attached to the mall,
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