Page 91 of Some Like It Hott

Her gaze dips to the smudge, then comes back up again, steely, to fix on me. “You’re awfully smug for someone who’s been unemployed for months?—”

“I’m employed now.”

“—who’s lost the relationship you were in?—”

Nope. “I didn’tloseit. He ruined it.”

She refuses to acknowledge that. “—who’s living in a hotel room?—”

I cross my arms. Plant my feet. It feels good. “I have company housing.”

“You have a temporary job.”

“I have agreatjob.” Each time I push back, I feel a little stronger.

“A job isn’t a career.”

It’s a thing my mother has said to me a hundred times since I bailed out of communications.

“No, but it could be,” I tell her.

She frowns. The lines at the sides of her mouth are deep. “There’s a difference between stringing jobs together and having a career.”

“There is a difference,” I agree. “The difference is your attitude toward what you’re doing. Any job can become a career if you’re good at it and love it. Activities coordinator is my job.” I take a deep breath and echo what Preston said to her outside my room the other day. “Bringing people joyis my career.”

For a second I think I’ve gotten through to her. She hesitates. She looks, just a little, thoughtful. Then her frown deepens. “Please tell me you’re not losing focus on going back to school.”

I think about all the brochures stuffed into a pocket of my suitcase. All the websites she sent me links to.

I think about the Wilder brothers with nail polish on their fingers. I think about Preston Hott in a pit of purple Jell-O. I think about the Wilder and Hott kids blasting Nerf darts at each other.

“I’m not going back to school.”

I didn’t know for sure it was true until I said it out loud, but I should have.

What I wanted, all this time, was to be who she wanted me to be.

What I want now is to be me.

I guess Preston isn’t the only one who needed permission to let go of who they thought they were.

“Natalie,” she warns.

“Mom,” I say back.

We stare each other down. I don’t look away. Not this time.

I think about Ivy and Sonya and Reggie, who told me that I’m welcome in their world regardless of whether Preston and I end up together.

I think of Preston, who told me that my mother wasn’t fair to me. Who told my mother that I brought people joy and then told me that I was funny and generous and giving andfun.

Preston knows exactly who I am.

Even if he’s never said the words, he loves me for it.

I know what that feels like.

I don’t have to settle for less.

---