Page 65 of A Better World

Upon seeing Josie, she decided not to say any of that.

Her daughter stayed in her desk chair, showing Linda her profile. Her room was large, with wood floors. Her half-filled dresser was equipped to store more than she owned, and upon her vanity were bottles of perfume and sundry makeup that she’d acquired over the years but had outgrown. She hadn’t culled anything from the move, had simply packed and unpacked with no organization.

“Well?” Linda asked.

“I dunno,” Josie answered.

“You go out a lot, and I never know where you go,” Linda said.

Josie’s strong, broad shoulders rose close to her ears, then dropped in a shrug.

“I figured: It’s so safe here. What could I have to worry about? Plus, I didn’t want to salt your game. It’s hard being new, isn’t it?”

“No,” Josie said, soft.

“That’s true. It’s hard for some people. But you’re so good at making friends. People love you.”

Josie’s shoulders went up again, this time staying there. When shewas little, Josie’d had a lithe, graceful body. And then puberty hit and she thickened. Linda had mourned that swanlike neck, those cartwheels and backflips. But she’d come to understand that the change was natural. Desirable, despite what the billboards tell you. This was a young woman, heading toward full bloom.

“Could you turn around and look at me?” Linda asked.

Josie turned. Her eyes were red.

“Oh, honey. What is it?”

Her daughter seemed surprised by the question, and Linda pointed. “You’ve been crying.”

“Oh.”

Not for the first time, Linda asked, “Please. Tell me what’s going on with you.”

Josie’s eyes watered. More tears fell. She did that thing kids do, where all the emotions come to the front, and she was afraid to talk, lest the exhalation of breath break a dam inside her.

“Come here.”

Josie shook her head, stayed wiping her eyes, her body tense and pent up.

“Can’t you tell me?” Linda asked. She had so many questions, but they all came to this:Don’t you see this is better than back home? What’s happening to you?

“It’s nothing,” Josie said. “Just long days. There’s so much work.”

“Yeah?” Linda asked. This was not the answer she’d expected. “How much?”

“I have to catch up. Everybody’s already taken these college classes in middle school. Then they take them again in high school. But I’m taking them for the first time. It’s four or five hours of homework a night.”

“God, that’s too much,” Linda said. “Just get Bs.”

“But I have to get As!” Josie answered. “I can’t be remediated. Those classes are for the loser kids.”

“Well, notlosers,” Linda said. “Hip’s not in advanced math or history.”

“Then I guess he better marry Cathy, because he’s on the wrong track for the honors program at BWU. He won’t get a company job.”

“I don’t think it works exactly like that. But even if it does, is living on the outside so bad?”

Josie looked at her with horror.

“Okay, it’s bad. Because you want a company job, and you want to live in a town like Plymouth Valley. Is that what I’m hearing?”

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