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“By the time we get back from the trip,” he says, “we want to know what your plan is—a major you’llcommitto, what career you’re working toward, everything.”

“Okay.”

We hug, and they tell me they love me and they’re proud of me. But it doesn’t cut through all the noise in my brain, not like their other words do.

When I get back to my room, Etta is there waiting for me.They won’t have to have this talk with Etta at graduation, that’s for sure.

“Okay, the game’s over. I kept playing for you, so we wouldn’t waste time,” she says. “You’re a single mom of two sets of twins, you lived on a houseboat, and you died owing all your money to Countryside Acres retirement home. So, you lost.”

Isn’t that appropriate?

“Can you clean up? Because my time is up and I have some reading I need to complete by tonight.” She taps her watch and stands up, leaving a mess of cards and pegs around her. “That was fun. Bye.”

She walks out without even looking up, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

Chapter Five

So here’s a recap in case you’re keeping track at home. Your girl Lenore is:

1) Doomed to be alone forever because, as my history clearly demonstrates, I can’t seem to get a guy to stick around. Even when I keep things no-strings, more-benefits-than-friends casual AF. Even that isn’t enough to entice someone to want to be with me.

2) Now painfully aware, thanks to my parents laying it out for me in no uncertain terms, that I am not, in fact, my ancestors’ wildest dreams. No, I am possibly their worst, indecisive, privileged, flighty nightmare. And unless I can get my act together and figure out what I want to do with my whole damn life by the end of this trip, I’m going to be my parents’ worst disappointment. 4.2 GPA be damned!

3) Currently confined on a plane, nonstop to Rome, to be further confined on a cruise ship with my two perfect siblings and those previously mentioned parents who think I’m a mess—oh, and did I mention they want me to figure out my whole life by the end of this twelve-day cruise?!

My finger hovers above the send button. I mean, this is why I splurged for the Wi-Fi on the plane. Tessa went up to Northern California to visit her friend after graduation, and Theo was busy with family stuff, so I didn’t get to see them yesterday night. And this morning was fully on someHome Aloneshit—missed alarms, running and hollering—so I didn’t even get a chance to FaceTime them to say goodbye. But I don’t know... can I really unload on them like this?

I know Tessa and Theo would support me. Or at least, I hope they would. But this is a lot. And it’s not what they usually get from me. I’m over the top, yeah, but I keep it steady, light. Easy. I’m the one to listen to problems and offer advice, not the one to share my own.

I scroll through what I wrote, highlighting the message with my thumb, and then hit cut. Let’s try this again.

Hello from some indeterminate but fabulous location above the Atlantic Ocean! Your girl Lenore is about to have the best time ever gallivanting across the Mediterranean. Will I eat my weight in gelato? WillI run into the Kardashian-Jenners? (That fancy rich people beach is in Italy, right?) Will I re-create one of the epic dance scenes from Mamma Mia?! Will I fall down a flight of white stairs into the unnaturally blue ocean? Stay tuned!

I hit send before I can think about it too much.

“Hey, is your screen working?” Wally says, leaning into my already very small area and tapping the video screen in front of me. It comes to life, blinding me in the dark cabin.

“Why even ask?” I roll my eyes at him.

“Can we switch? Mine keeps freezing, and you’re not even watching it,” he says, gesturing to my phone. He unbuckles himself and stands up, not even waiting for my response. I wish again for the billionth time this flight that I had decided to sit with Mom and Dad across the aisle. Etta’s position, sandwiched between them with her pink cat headphones, doesn’t look so bad, when faced with Wally’s incessant knee-jiggling, openmouthed pretzel eating, and now kicking me out of my seat, apparently.

“No,” I say, returning my attention to my phone. I can see the three little dots, letting me know that Tessa is typing. But Wally moves even more into my space, nudging my knee.

“C’mon, Lenore, you bought the Wi-Fi! You can watch something on there. I cannot go the whole flight like this.”

“Not my problem.”

“Okay,” he says, narrowing his eyes at me and sitting down. “I guess I have nothing else to do for these next nine hours buteat. Good thing the flight attendant gave me extra pretzels.”

He grabs a bag from a disturbingly large stash in the seat pocket in front of him, tears it open, and then throws a handful into his mouth, taking slow, exaggerated bites.

“Whatever. You do you.” I turn my body away from him. But he just moves in closer, sloshing his tongue around, smacking his lips. All it takes is for one crumb to fall on my shoulder before I jump up into the aisle.

“Fine, Wally! Ugh!” I scream. Mom and Dad turn toward us, and Dad raises one thick eyebrow. A question, but also a directive. Bennetts do not make scenes, especially when we’re surrounded by a whole bunch of white people, like we are right now.

“Fine,” I repeat, standing up. “Take it.”

“Thank you,” Wally coos, giving me a fake-ass smile as he slides over into my seat and starts scrolling through the movies. I move over him, making sure to step on both of his feet, and plop myself down into his middle seat. The old guy on my other side is snoring loudly, not even enjoying the window seat he’s taking up.