Mom said over dinner. “She’s very confused and upset.” Welcome to the club, I thought. “Shutting people out isn’t helping, March,” Dad said. “We’re all concerned about you, Natalie included. She’s your best friend. Call her. Tell her what’s going on.” “She wouldn’t understand.” I put my fork down and pushed my plate away from me. It hit my water glass, which Mom caught before it flooded the table. “Frankly, March, neither do we,” Mom said. “It’s all so…extreme. And you’re not being fair to Nat. Or to us.” “How so?” I asked, standing up and dropping my dishes in the sink. “How am I not being fair? By dyeing my hair? Changing my job? Wearing glasses? Is it fair that Tyler cheated on me? Is it fair that he’s in a coma?” My hands gripped the back of Mom’s chair. “Maybe I like looking like shit, being invisible, selling Chinese crap to Japanese tourists. Maybe I deserve it. Maybe it’s just more…honest.” “You may be right,” Dad said.
