Reality hit me pretty hard as soon as I met my grandparents in front of O'Kane. Mom's broad smile morphed into a puzzled, disapproving frown when she noticed my new attire. 

"Hi, Jess!" Grandad said as he cast a worried glance towards Mom. "Looks like you had fun with your new friends."

"I did, thanks," I replied, trying to keep upbeat. I decided to ignore my grandmother's disdain, which oozed from her like an invisible, poisonous miasma.

"Hello, dear," Mom said, giving me another scrutinizing stare. "Where are your clothes?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Helen and I just had a makeover this morning. Cute, huh?" 

Not a lie, just not the whole truth.

"Uh-huh."

"Helen let me take this home," I said, trying to stay strong. But my voice faltered. "She's got so many, she needed to make room for more. I didn't waste my money or anything."

"I see."

Mom didn't need to berate me with a lecture. Oh, no. She had this genius way of tearing me to shreds with one piercing glare. Or one well-timed huff of disapproval. Ripping away all my resolve until I felt like that same little child I was fifteen years ago.

Clutching Mom's feet, begging for her to save me. And save me she did. All I needed to do was follow her rules. A small price for my reprieve.

Until now...

Resentment rose like burning acid in my throat, and I tossed my bag in the back seat with a callous flick. I'd had my taste of freedom. True freedom. Returning to this strictness felt as though someone had decided to wrap me in a straitjacket when I'd done nothing wrong...

"Carm, what did we talk about?" Grandad whispered in a hushed tone he probably didn't think I could hear. 

"Just look at her," Mom said in a shocked whisper. 

My heart thudded against my ribs as I climbed into the back seat, sulking in silence. Dread curled up on my stomach like a black cat kneading my raw insides with extended claws. Tears of shame stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

Only a few more months. Just a few more, and you're free.

On the awkward ride home, I sank into the comfort of daydreams. 

Eric and I were browsing through the foreign language section of the library. Caressing me from behind, he wrapped an arm around my waist and brushed back my hair with a tender touch. Planting gentle kisses on my neck, he made me moan with delight. 

Eric, I miss you already. Like a gaping pit in my chest.

As do I, he replied.

I've never felt this way before. What does it mean?

He stayed quiet for a moment, pondering my question. Perhaps a slumbering romantic lay dormant inside both of us.

Perhaps...

Eric began to play Liszt's Liebesträme, his fingers dancing over the keys of the grand piano. We sat on the music bench side by side as his deep, melodious voice echoed in the caverns of my thoughts. 

When can I see you again, my muse? 

His words made me shudder with delight. 

The piano at Brooks Hall faded away and we were back at the Loyola Ballroom. Only the two of us on the dance floor. His melancholic piano music played in the background as though by magic. Eric approached me and cupped his hands on my hips as we swayed. 

He whispered a term of endearment like he was casting a spell. 

Ma chérie...

Oui?

Dis-moi...

I gave a heavy sigh. I don't know. My family-- 

We can make this happen, he insisted. We can be together. You and I... 

You don't know what Mom is like. She can cut you in half with a single glare.  

The classical piece morphed into more aggressive tones. Back at the piano, Eric almost pounded the keys with passionate insistence. 

I'm not afraid of her. If you want to be together, we will make it happen.

I do, I insisted. But how...? Mom is very clever.

As am I. The piece ended and he turned to face me with that strong, determined look of his. I swear to you, I won't let them thwart me. 

Eric...if only you lived next door.

I rested my head on his shoulder, and he stroked my hair. Stay strong, my muse. Wait for me.

"Did you have a good time?" Grandad asked, snapping me back to reality. "What did you see? Tell us all about Holy Cross. Are the classes good? Did you make lots of friends?"

My throat constricted, and I fought to stay strong. "I loved it," I answered in a choked voice. "The language labs are...phenomenal. And the people--"

"Awww, dear. Are you sad you won't be able to go this year?" Mom asked with an anxious look.

"Yes," I whispered, staring out of the window with longing. 

Again, not a complete lie, but not the complete truth. Not only had Mom's words cut me to the quick, but I also missed Eric. Already. After fifteen minutes.

This isn't normal anymore.

With a scoff, I chastised myself for falling so quickly for a man I hardly knew. 

Is it even real? Or just the wishful dream of a girl desperate for love?

I cleared my throat and forced myself to be chipper. "But there's always next year, right?"

"That's right," she said with a strained smile. "Save up your money and transfer."

What money? 

I scoffed. Money. That was my trouble. If I had money, I could rent my own place. Buy train and bus tickets to visit Eric on the sly. Even get my own car. 

But I didn't. Every solution relied on me being financially independent, and I was far from it. No summer job could get me my own place or my own car, but at least I could buy my own damn train tickets.

"I need a job," I said in a firm tone that made both Mom and Grandad balk in surprise.

"You need to focus on school," Mom insisted. "Graduate first. Then worry about jobs. Or you'll jeopardize your entire future."

College. My one-way ticket out of this joint. Everyone made fun of me for being a nerd, but if they'd had a strong incentive like me, they'd fight tooth and nail for every grade as well.

Just like my friend Carolyn. She was the only one who understood.

"Fine," I said. "But the very next day, I'm going to get a job. I'm eighteen, and I need to make my own money."

"I'm proud of you, Jess," Grandad said with a smile. "Just promise me you won't neglect your studies."

"I promise."

Mom gave him a stern look, but I didn't care. Grandad looked at me through the rear-view mirror and gave me a wink.

***

As soon as I got home, I was greeted by a sweet little succulent housed in a honeypot in the arms of a stuffed animal version of Winnie-the-Pooh. For a moment, my anger faded and I felt guilty about my sullen attitude in the car. This had to be the sweetest thing I'd ever seen. 

"Oh, my gosh! Mom? Grandad? What's this for?" I swept him up in my arms. "I love it."

"Oh, that's not from us, dear," Mom said, her eyes twinkling. "That nice young man Bryan came by and brought it for you."

I nearly dropped it on the floor.

"Bryan?" I exclaimed, putting it back on the table with a disdainful look. 

"Come on, dear. Give him a chance. He's a nice Catholic boy with good morals and values." She gave me a friendly tap. "Quite smart. Charming. Not bad on the eyes either."

With a scoff, I snatched the little card from the plastic prongs set in the soil. Opening the tiny envelope, I noticed the seal had suspicious little wrinkles as though someone had opened and shut it again. 

Thanks for that, Mom. 

"Bryan brought this?" I asked, incredulous as I reread his words.

Gosh, I could imagine him blushing and stammering as he asked to see me. How he'd left the plant there for me and had been checking his IMs every five seconds.

"He's a lovely young man," Mom said. "Whatever happened between you two?"

"Carm, let it go," Grandad growled. "Jess clearly didn't like him, or she wouldn't have broken up with him."

"Relationships are all about give and take," Mom insisted. "She needs to learn that."

Grandad sighed. Poor guy. He'd gotten the rotten end of that deal.

"You have to understand how to compromise," she added. "You can't just dump everyone who doesn't do exactly what you want."

"What?" I hissed. "Compromise like you, Mom?"

Mom balked, speechless.

"Jessica Smith!" Grandad roared. "You apologize to your grandmother this instant."

"Oh, you know it's true," I growled back at him. "Mom hardly ever budges an inch on anything. What should I apologize for? Telling the truth?"

"For being so rude about it," he muttered, turning red with anger. "We have done so much for you, young lady. I work even though I'm retired. Your grandmother works tirelessly at home."

"And I appreciate it. Truly." I sighed with frustration. "I'd probably be dead right now if you hadn't taken me in...away from...her."

His stony glare dissolved, and Mom gave me an anxious, sad look. 

"But I am an adult now, and it offends me that you don't trust me or that you insult my attempts to have fun. Just let me figure out who I am," I insisted. 

"Jess, dear, you don't understand."

"Please, Mom...You have to let me go." I pursed my lips, not wanting to hurt her. "Or I'll have to do it alone."

"I'm sorry, dear," Mom said with tears in her eyes. "It's just that we love you so much. We saw what happened to you, and we don't want you to get hurt. Ever again. By anyone."

Her tears were infectious, and I clenched my jaw, willing myself to stay strong. "I know, Mom. I love you, really. But you need to give me space." 

"What happened between you two?" she asked, still sobbing. "Don't you want to talk about it?"

I looked away from them. "It's time you realized the truth. I'm the problem, Mom. Bryan's a good man--"

"Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?" Grandad growled like a grizzly bear. "Because if he laid even one hand on you--"

"No!" I held up my hand. "Nothing like that. He was a gentleman--the whole time."

"Good," he muttered. "Or I'd tan his hide."

I rolled my eyes. "But he wanted more--romance--than I felt comfortable with. He got impatient, and we broke up." I sighed. "Now he feels guilty and wants me back, but that wouldn't be fair. To either of us."

"Oh, come here, dear!" Mom said, sweeping me up into her arms. "I had no idea. I'm so proud of you for being so strong and true to your faith. You're a good girl. I'm sorry I doubted you."

Oh, Lord. Here we go again.

Grandad patted my shoulder gruffly, at a loss for words. 

"Bryan's not a bad kid. He'll make a great boyfriend for a lucky girl," I was quick to add. "He was just in a different place in the relationship than me..."

Say it. 

Tell them the truth. 

Say it, damn you. You can't make Bryan look bad because you're scared.

"I'm just not...interested...in that kind of thing," I said, inwardly screaming at my own cowardice.

How hard is it to say? "Hey, Grandad. Quit worrying about me being a trash can. I'm asexual."

"Of course you're not, dear," Mom replied. "You're focused on your studies like you should be."

"Plenty of time for that later," Grandad said. "If you want to. If not, that's fine too." I grinned at him, and he winked at me. "Less young men to worry about."

"Ted!"

"What?"

"It's fewer, dear."

I bet Grandad stifled a groan along with me.

We gave each other a group hug. For an instant, I felt a bit relieved as though a heavy weight had been lifted. But I didn't know how long the truce would last. 

Especially if they ever found out about Eric.