Page 4 of A Match Made In Evan
She really does seem friendlier as she smiles and says, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mia.”
Mia smiles back, “And you as well, Ms Michaels.” Bronwyn gestures to the two timber and leather chairs in front of her desk as she makes her way to her own high-backed leather seat on the other side of the dark timber monstrosity. “Thank you for considering my application,” Mia adds.
Bronwyn smiles at her again and nods, tapping her index fingers on the manila folder on the desk. “I’ve read your transcript and the reference letters from your teachers. You’re a model student,” she says, and I begin to let go of the tension in my shoulders.
Mia ducks her chin. “Thank you.”
“Tell me, though, why you want to attend Winchester College. In your own words, if you please.”
Mia launches into her rehearsed response to this question, citing the school’s academic record, its resources and outstanding reputation, and its unmatched drama program. I sit back and watch her with pride, wondering once again just when my pigtailed toddler turned into this mature near-adult.
Of course, that’s when she chooses to throw a curveball.
“…but, maybe most importantly,” my daughter says, pausing dramatically as she looks my way. She pauses for effect, biting her lip and smiling sheepishly before turning back to the principal, “I know you’re a proudly inclusive school.”
My heart hammers.What…?Why would she say that? She’s not coming out, is she? Here? Now? I’ll love her and support her no matter what, but this moment seems—
“Which isreallyimportant to me,” Mia continues, and her voice even wobbles, breaking my heart becausesurelyshe knows her sexuality is not going to make any difference to how much I love her, “because Dad is gay. Um, and engaged, actually.”
Wait…what?!
***
“What the ever-loving fuck, Mia?” I demand once we’re in the car. My fingers flex on the steering wheel, but I haven’t made any move to start the engine.
“So, don’t be mad, but—”
I can’t help scoffing as I whip my head around to face her. “Mad? Why would I be mad? You only justknowingly liedto your potential new principal aboutmysexualityandmy lack of a relationship for reasons only known to you.”
And I didn’t call her out on it, because I didn’t want to tank her chances of getting in. If she is accepted, I’ll have to explain that it was a misunderstanding…or something.
“I found out that they’re doing this whole PR push on how inclusive they are,” she explains. “So they’re more likely to offer placements to families who make them look…well, more inclusive. And just saying you’re gay didn’t feel like enough, you know? So…I made up an engagement.” Widening her eyesand smiling brightly, she spreads her hands out and wiggles her fingers. “Congratulations?”
I’m torn between laughter at the absurdity of her scheme and frustration that, on some level, I can see her logic.
It scares me that I can, actually. Should my brain really be able to understand a fifteen-year-old’s mental gymnastics?
Finally turning the key in the ignition, I sigh. “Well, it’s not like they’re going to ask me to prove it, right?”
***
Wrong. I was so very wrong.
Two days after that supremely uncomfortable meeting in the school’s principal’s office, they call me to request a follow-up interview. With my fiancé.
My fiancé whom my daughter invented.
Mymalefiancé whom my daughter invented.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I demand of her after explaining the situation she’s gotten us into. A situation I’m aware I could have prevented if I’d called her out on her lie at the time, I know. But, sue me, I didn’t want to ruin the impression she was making on the principal.
I still don’t want to ruin that for her.
Because in the days since that ridiculous moment in that office, I’ve had a chance to think about why Mia said what she did. I agree that lying is bad, but if the school really is cherry picking enrolment applicants for purely PR reasons and not on the aptitude of the students in question, then maybe I don’t feel as gross for going along with the lie.
This is one of those morally grey situations, I think, because pretending to be a minority group for benefits is bad, but using minority groups to make themselves look better is worse,right? Plus, once Mia’s enrolled, I can stage a breakup with my imaginary fiancé and the whole thing is no longer an issue.
Except they want to meet my imaginary fiancé.
