For half a second, I consider letting it go to voicemail. The urge is animal and selfish. I want to stay suspended right here, in the quiet madness I've been cultivating all night, but I answer.
"Hello?" My voice comes out smooth, calm, a miracle even I wouldn't have imagined I could pull off at this moment.
"Blue, hi, sweetheart." Shirley's warm, gentle voice gives the impression she's smiling even when she's not. "I'm sorry to bother you so early."
"That's okay," I say, stepping away from the mirror. My reflection follows, reluctantly. "What's going on?"
Papers shift, crackling on her desk. She answers, "Dr. Mercer had an opening come up for later today, and he thought it might be helpful if we could get you and your parents in together."
My pulse stutters. "Today?" I ask, even though I already know my answer.
"Yes. Five o'clock, if that works for you. I completely understand if it's too much?—"
"It works," I cut in, too fast to be polite. "Five works. That's perfect."
There's a pause on the other end, just long enough for her to smile through the phone. "All right, then. I'll put you down for five with your parents and Dr. Mercer. You sure they will be able to make it?"
Something settles into place inside me with a quiet, terrifying click. "Absolutely."
"Great. I'll see you later today."
"Thanks, Shirley," I practically sing.
The call ends, and I stand there staring at the dark screen like it might say more if I wait long enough.
Five o'clock.
With my parents.
With him.
It has to be alignment. The universe finally stopped pretending it wasn't paying attention.
I don't give myself time to think. I call Mom immediately, pacing, my energy snapping through my limbs.
She answers on the third ring, and her voice is tight before I even say hello. "Blue. Where are you? I've been calling."
I lie, "I overslept. My phone was on silent. I'm fine, Mom. I'm just running late."
She hesitates, then caves. "I'm glad you're okay."
"I am," I insist. Then I soften my tone. "Listen, there's something important. Dr. Mercer called. We need to meet with him today."
"Today?" she asks.
"Yes. Five o'clock."
Another pause, heavier this time. "Your father might not be able to make that."
"He has to," I say, and there's steel in it before I bother hiding it. "This is important. He needs to be there."
"Blue—"
"I'll handle Dad. Just be there at five. Please."
She exhales slowly, like she's already tired and the day hasn't even started yet. "All right. I'm sure he'll change his schedule if he can."
"He will. Thank you." I hang up, and I don't let myself savor the win yet. There's one more move to make.
