Page 114 of The Unraveling

When do I actually start?

How much did they say I’d be making?

How am I getting there?

Did they say anything else?

Are you sure, a hundred percent sure, this is for real?

It was happening. She had all the information, and most of it had been emailed to me.

Once she’d told me everything she knew, I took her laptop to my room, shutting the door on the rest of the house, and my mom, and squealed in the privacy of my room.

My hideous, awful room. I hated it. Hated the floor, hated the walls, hated the ceiling. I was going to have a new life. One that took me far, far away from there. I’d be traveling the world. Paris! London! Barcelona! Sydney! Montreal! Mexico City! Vienna!

The world was about to be my stage.

Being in my room, it already felt like I’d moved on. Like I was future me, looking back on that very moment. How long ago my present already felt.

—

That night, we went over to Mimi’s, where the house smelled like garlic, onion, and cumin. The tacos I wanted were the Old El Paso kind that came in the yellow box at the grocery store, ground beef sold separately, a big tub of sour cream ready to be scooped, powdery shredded Mexican cheese on top. It was my favorite trashy meal, and I was rarely allowed it. Or, actually, the truth is that I was never allowed it, but Mimi made it for me anyway sometimes.

I was buzzing. I felt like I’d been asleep my whole life, and I was only just waking up.

Mimi gave me a huge hug when she saw me, and I said, “I couldn’t have done it without you!”

She smiled and squeezed me again.

“I got a bottle of bubbly, if you want to open it, Brandy,” she said, gesturing at the fridge. “I think we can let Jocelyn drink a glass or two, just tonight, don’t you?”

I waited, ready for my mom to be a big drag like always, putting the kibosh on all the fun. But instead, she said, “I think that’d be more than okay tonight.”

I beamed.

We drank Cupcake prosecco out of Mimi’s fancy champagne flutes, which had been covered in dust and needed to be thoroughly cleaned before use.

It had been a while since there’d been anything to really celebrate.

After we’d all had a few tacos and were on to our second glass each of champagne, I was giddy with the little alcohol I’d had and the news of the day, and honestly could not stop smiling.

“So when do you go?” asked Mimi.

“In two weeks,” my mom answered. “I think we’ll fly. I was considering driving, but I don’t think that’s a good idea with the state of the car. It needs so much work done.”

I wasn’t sure what I was hearing. “What do you mean, we?” I asked.

The phrasing was a little cold, but I meant the question. What did she mean?

“I mean…you and me,” she said, smiling a little.

I felt suddenly out of control. “You’re not coming with me,” I said.

Mimi put down her glass and looked between us, an expression of worry on her face.

“Of course I’m coming with you,” said my mom. “We’ve been in this together the whole time.”

“No—what are you talking about?”

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