Page 94 of The Cheerleader

Now it’s time to tell Dad about it and win his approval. Or maybe I should apply for student loans and hope to hell I get a job to pay for them.

“I switched my major, Dad.”

“You’re not in mechanical engineering—did you go for electrical instead? It does pay better these days⁠—”

“No. I switched out of engineering,” I take a breath and rush my words before he can react. “I’m in education now. I want to be a teacher. I’ve been tutoring, and I’m good at it, and teaching makes me feel so fulfilled and good, and you said that⁠—”

“What kind of pay do teachers get? Will you get a job when you graduate?” His voice is subdued, not admonishing but not encouraging, and I can feel the disappointment underneath.

“It depends. I can get certified in high school math and have a decent chance at a job, but…” My words trail off in a guilty whisper.

“It doesn’t sound like the optimal choice, Susie.” Now there’s a hint of censure in his voice, but he doesn’t say no. “You’d have to go to grad school for a good shot at a job. I’m not sure I can fund that right now.”

“I know, Dad. I’m prepared to work hard to get a scholarship or financial aid. My advisor said--”

“We’ll have to talk about it when I get back, when I know more about this job.” He’s trying hard to dredge up support, and I’m grateful for even a sliver, though I feel shaky, rattled like I’m taking a big risk, walking out on a weak limb while my safety net has big holes in it.

My parents are struggling financially, and Dad is still jobless. I’m not going to ask them to help me anymore. I need to stand on my own instead of being an added burden. After a moment of excruciating silence, I force a reply. “Sure, Dad. We’ll talk later, but don’t worry about me. I’ll make things work.”

As soon as I hang up, Liz says, “Why is your dad worried about you?”

I blow out a breath. “I just told him I’m going to be a low-paid teacher instead of an engineer. He’s disappointed.”

“He’ll come around when he sees how good you are.” She focuses on me, and neither of us says anything. I wonder what else she heard, whether she’s going to ask about California.

“I’m hoping to get a scholarship or grant or something for next semester. Or possibly a student loan.”

“I bet you will. Even if I didn’t have a full scholarship, I would have gotten student loans.” She shrugs and smiles. “But you shouldn’t worry so much about that because I’m sure your parents will support you, even if it’s with their last dime.”

I flinch at her words because she’s right, and she sounds so wistful. She goes back to her notebook, flipping the page.

I guess she didn’t overhear anything about Dad’s job interview. Part of me wants to talk to her about it, but I can’t bring myself to dwell on my family’s issues right now. Besides, I would feel silly because whatever problems my family has, they’re trivial next to hers.

I turn away and mutter, “I guess it’s official, then. I’m on my way to becoming a teacher. Yay-ra-ra.”

She puts her notebook aside and gets up from her bed to sit next to me on mine. “Congratulations, Susie.” She gives me a hug, not probing further, not questioning me or judging me, instead supporting me the best way she knows how with her arms around me and her big heart open.

I squeeze her back, telling myself I don’t care how troubled she is, how many problems she’s hiding or coping with as best she can, because she’s a good friend, a generous big-hearted person.

She smiles as she releases me. “It’ll be good to see your parents at the game tomorrow.”

I freeze for a sec, then regain my footing. “It’ll be my mom and Aunt Mabel. Dad can’t make it. He has something… work related to do.” It’s not a lie. I’ll talk to Liz about California when I know more. Right now, I don’t even know what to say or what I think.

“My family’s not coming,” she says matter-of-factly, and I can’t read what her emotions are underneath. I’d be more surprised if they did come, but I don’t say that.

She brightens, “I think Bryan’s mom is coming though.”

“You talk about him almost like he’s your brother sometimes,” I say without thinking and totally inappropriately. What happened to my grace and poise? Or has Liz disarmed me with our friendship so much that I forget to filter what I say? I want to be able to say whatever I think to her. But definitely not when it comes to Bryan.

I’m hoping she can’t read the note of wishful thinking in my voice. But I desperately need clarification about their relationship because I get such a different story from Bryan. And deep down, I want to believe his side.

She laughs. “No way. He’s as far from brotherly as a guy can get. We slept together, remember?”

I feel her words like a slap in the face.

“More than once,” she adds to make sure I get the picture. And I do, though Bryan gave me the impression it was a one-time-only event. Who do I believe?

If I believe, the picture I’m getting is that sleeping together—sex—means less to him than it does to Liz.