Page 108 of The Me I Left Behind

Those words meant more to her than anything. “I’m trying, Julia. I’ve considered therapy again—but honestly? The thoughtof laying down paint on a canvas is really what I think will pull me back together. Maybe that and a prolonged stay at the beach.” She grinned.

“Talk to Lia about that. I’m sure she can accommodate.”

“Just let me get through graduation.”

“When is that happening again?”

Maggie glanced at the calendar on the fridge. “Next week.”

“I’ll be back then.”

1997

“Deni! Wait up. My college letter came yesterday. Did you get yours?”

Deni Albright turned away from Mary Margaret and opened her locker. “Yes. Mom opened it.” She glanced over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. “Mothers.”

“Yeah.”

Mary Margaret looked again at the letter. “It says my roommate assignment will come in another letter. I sure hope they didn’t screw up. I can’t wait for us to room together.”

Deni pulled out several books and stuffed them in her backpack. “Oh? I had a dorm assignment, actually.” She faced her and bit her lip. “Mary Margaret, Mom wants me to get to know some new people, so she thought it best if we not room together. She changed my application, and took your name off, before she sent it in.”

She stood there, stunned, staring after Deni. They’d planned this forever.What the fuck?“I don’t understand.”

Deni smiled. “No biggie. Right? We’ll still see each other. But there actually is something else I need to tell you.”

“What?”

“It’s about your mom. Something she said to mine.”

Mary Margaret’s heart felt like it dropped—with a palpable thud—a couple of inches lower in her chest. “What did my mom do now?”

“Be prepared for her to get you to ditch the art major. She told my mom that neither of us have a talent for it, so why the hell were we majoring in art, anyway? She was trying to recruit my mom into getting us to change majors.”

Mary Margaret couldn’t utter a word. Art was her first love, her passion. It was the one thing that she was super good at—or so she had thought. No talent? Her goal was to be an art teacher, not a Grand Master Painter. Although she wouldn’t put something like that past her mother, why in the hell had she done that? “She’s not said a word to me.”

Which was true.

“Well, it’s what she told my mom.”

“Right.”

“I gotta go. See you at lunch?”

She nodded at Deni, but really didn’t even see her walk away. “Sure.”

Pulling the college acceptance letter back out of its envelope, she re-read the first paragraph.

We are pleasedto inform you of your acceptance to attend Eastern Carolinas University beginning the fall semester, 1997, major undeclared. Your dormitory and roommate assignments are forthcoming.

“Mrs. Shepherd called today.She said you’ve not been to your art class in three weeks.”

She’d wondered when that subject would come up. “That sounds about right.”

“We’ve paid for those advanced lessons, so you need to go. Besides, you said you needed the extra push for college. Right?”

Mary Margaret went back to making her sandwich, smearing mustard, then mayonnaise on the bread. “I quit. Not going.”

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