“Uh, what animal?” I deadpan, tugging the sheet over Argyros’s head.
He paws it off, giving me a deeply unimpressed look.
“What part ofno dogs in my housedid you not understand?”
She tugs at the end of her long blonde fishtail braid, lips tight, like she’s doing everything she can not to fully explode on me. Even riled up, she’s still beautiful.
In her flowy cotton boho dress and glitter Birkenstocks, she looks more like Amber’s older sister than someone’s mom. Total flower-child vibes—the opposite of my gothy-punk aesthetic—but over time, I’ve come to respect it. At least she’s true to herself. Comfortable in her own skin, no matter who’s watching.
“Sorry. I fell asleep,” I mutter. “I was going to take him back before you got home. I swear.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“Mom, come on.” I push up onto my elbows. “This whole thing is ridiculous. I’m almost eighteen. I can smoke. I can vote. Hell, I can be drafted into war. I can have my own dog,” I say. “If it’s a money thing, I’ll get a job. I’ll cover everything myself.”
“It’s not about the money!”
Her voice falters, just for a second, and I know I’ve hit a nerve. Mom has always been sensitive about finances. Being a struggling single parent in our affluent town can’t be easy.
Still, I’ve always assumed that cost was the reason why she’d resisted having a pet for so long. One more mouth to feed. But if it’s not that…
“Then what is it about?”
She hesitates. “I just… don’t need the extra responsibility.”
“I already saidI’dtake care of him.”
She sighs and crosses the room, easing down on the edge of my bed, careful to keep her distance from Argyros.
“And what about next year? You can’t bring a dog with you to New York.”
I roll my eyes.
“Pretty sure they allow dogs in Manhattan, Mom.”
“Not in the NYU dorms they don’t.” Her face softens then, and she gives me a hopeful look. “But… if you stayed local. Laguna Hills University has a wonderful music program, you know. And we’re so close to LA—lots of great opportunities toget involved with the arts here. If you stayed,maybeI’d reconsider the dog.”
A familiar pang of sadness—of guilt—hits, low and sharp. There’s a part of me that still feels like her little kid, not her grown daughter. New York is far, and it’s not like we have the money for regular flights back and forth. I won’t be able to come home often to see her. If I get into NYU, we’ll go from seeing each other every day to just a few weeks a year, during school breaks. I know it will hurt her when I leave. It will hurt me too. But I can’t let that be the reason I give up on my dreams.
“Mom, we’ve talked about this,” I say gently, reaching for her hand. “If I’m going to do theater seriously, I have to go where the industry is. That’s New York City.”
Her fingers stiffen, then slip from mine.
“Fine,” she says. “Go, then. But I’m not taking care of your ridiculous dog after you abandon us.”
I groan. “You make it sound like I’m leaving forever. I’ll be home for holidays. And summers,” I say. “We’ll FaceTime every day. I promise.”
She blinks at me, eyes glistening.
“You’re my baby. The thought of you so far away, in a place where I can’t protect you?—”
And there it is. The tears.
“Mom, please don’t cry?—”
“I just worry about you,” she says, dabbing her nose with the oversized, fluffy sleeve of her dress. “There are dangers everywhere, Alysander. You can’tsee them like I can. You don’t know what’sreallyout there…”
I bite back a sigh.
