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As I’m digginginto my waffles, my phone buzzes and Marion’s face appears on my screen. My heart lifts. It’s so good to see her.

I accept the call. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“I found a locker at the library where I can leave all the stuff about colleges, so I don’t have to risk someone finding it back home.”

“That’s great,” I say. “Did you see your old guidance counselor?”

“Yeah,” she says, sounding a little giddy. “I did. She says she’s happy to help me outside school hours. Can you believe it?”

“What else did she say?” I ask, thrilled that Marion has actually followed up on what we talked about. I can hear the excitement in her voice. “Does she think a scholarship is possible?”

“I have to apply. But she gave me things I can start doing to help with my application. It’s going to take a lot of work. I don’t know how I’m going to be able to do it without getting found out.”

I see her issue. Mom will be in her business. She knows what hours she works, which friends she hangs out with. “Could you say you picked up a few extra shifts at the salon?”

“She might talk to my boss, or wonder why I’m not bringing home more money.”

She’s right. Mom has a way of finding out everything. Looking back, it was like living in a prison. I don’t know why I stayed as long as I did. But I’m free now. I just want the same for Marion.

“What if you said you were doing some volunteering? You could say you were helping out at the library,” I suggest. “They say the easiest way to lie is to stay as close to the truth as possible.”

“You know what she’ll say,” Marion replies.

“Charity begins at home,” we both chant.

I sigh. “Can you say you’re hanging out with one of your friends?” She’ll be worried they’ll end up giving something away. “Or make up a friend. Someone new in town. There must be a way.”

“I could pretend I got a second job.”

“But she’d want some of your paycheck,” I say.

“I could say I was saving up for something. Something for her. Maybe she’d give me a pass.”

I blow out a breath. “I don’t think she’ll buy it. She’d want to know what, and then she’d be working out how much it would cost. You’d end up having to buy her the damn thing out of what little money you have left at the end of the week.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Marion says. “But I have to complete the applications and the essays. There’s a lot of admin stuff I wasn’t really prepared for.”

“I know,” I say. There’s no way I’m letting my mom’s need to control Marion stop her getting to college. “Maybe say that some of your friends are going to Applegate Lake for an overnight camping trip in the summer, and you want to go but you need to buy supplies. A tent and stuff. So you get the second job to—wait! I got it.” I interrupt myself. “Ask if you can give her less of your paycheck at the end of every week, just until the summer. Tell her about the trip and how you can’t afford it unless she lets you keep more of your salary.”

“She might just kill me.”

“When she goes crazy, suggest you can get another job. But say you want to keep the money from the extra hours because you can’t fit many more in.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone before Marion says, “She’ll think she’s so generous for not taking a cut, and she’ll be relieved she doesn’t have to give up any of my paycheck.”

“Exactly,” I say. “We’re beating her at her own game. Manipulating her to get what we want.”

“It could work. It’s worth a shot.” She squeals. “I knew you’d have a solution. You always figure everything out.”

Her words take me by surprise. I’ve never seen myself as a problem solver. If you listened to my mom, you’d think I was the root of most of the world’s problems. “Thanks, Marion.”

“I mean it. I miss you so much. Mom… she’s worse since the whole wedding thing. She’s constantly complaining.” Then she bursts out laughing. “And the other day she suggested Lydia date Frank.”

Her words are like a slap to my face. “You’re kidding. Lydia and Frank?”

“Don’t worry. I don’t think Frank has any interest in Lydia. But that’s her latest scheme.”