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Me:Thank you for trusting me with it. I’m looking forward to it.

Charles:wow, this is way more awkward than I imagined when I thought to take it to the group chat.

Jeannette:Yeah, that was a bust. See you all on the other side of Turkey Day everyone!

I want to ask Aiden if he has somewhere to go. In fact, myfingers hover over my phone ready to ask the question. But I figure Charles would have mentioned it if he didn’t. Or Jeannette would have dragged him home with her. So I force my fingers to wrap around the handle of my shopping basket and start filling it with snacks for my trip home.

My mom’s SUV waits for me at the train station. I throw my suitcase in the back next to Eugene and slide into the front passenger seat. “Thanks for coming to get me. I could’ve just gotten an Uber, no big deal,” I say, reaching over and giving her a hug.

Eugene starts cackling in the back.

“What’s so funny back there?” I ask.

My mom joins in on the laughing.

“Mom said you were going to get in the car and tell us you could’ve gotten an Uber. Just like you did. She was right,” he says, still laughing.

God, sometimes a thirteen-year-old’s laugh is freaking adorable. I want to tickle him all over.

“You always offer to do something that you think will make it easier on everyone else, Irene,” Mom says. “But what you don’t realize is that me and Eugene wanted very much to see you right away and be here when you arrived. Daddy and Cybil, too, but they both had to work late today. They’ll meet us at home.”

I’m... speechless. My first inclination is to deny. But she’sright. I guess I do. Just like Aiden said, too.

I swallow back the emotions the truth seems to want to bring out of me. “Well, thanks. I’m happy to see you guys. I’ve missed you.”

“The house is so boring without you, Noona. No one is as funny as you are,” Eugene says.

“I was thinking the same thing about my school, Eug. No one makes me laugh like you do.”

Eugene proceeds to tell me a bunch of really bad dad jokes and then catches me up on his school and golf and all thingsMinecraft. By the time we get home, I’ve managed to avoid any questions from my mom about college and I breathe a sigh of relief when I toe off my shoes entering our house.

“Is that Irene?” my dad calls out from the kitchen. He meets me halfway and gives me a stiff side hug, his go-to display of affection. “How was the train? Are you hungry?”

We all walk into the kitchen, where the table is covered in In-N-Out bags, the smell of the grilled onions blessing my senses. I feel like I must be PMSing because this sight, these smells, the raucousness of my family all talking over each other makes me emotional. A tickle in my nose, followed by wetness in my eyes. I purse my lips trying to hold it all in.

I love being at school, despite all the stress. I love my new friends and the people who are helping me find myself. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that I’ve missed home,too. I’ve missed my family.

“Here,” Cybil says, dropping a bag in front of me on the table.

I look at it, fingering through the contents, and then back up at my sister. “What is all this?”

“Just some skincare stuff I got at work. Mostly sheet masks. I figured your skin was a wreck, eating all that shit food in the college cafeteria and not getting enough sleep. Don’t be lazy with your skin. You look a mess, so use a mask every night for twenty minutes,” Cybil explains.

I open my mouth, unable to come up with the words. She so rarely does anything nice for me. “I... I... yeah, okay, twenty minutes,” I finally get out. “Thanks.”

“Whatever,” she replies.

As we sit around the table devouring our Animal Style burgers, the conversation quickly turns to questioning me about school. It catches me off guard, as I’m so rarely the center of attention at the dinner table. I think about Aiden’s comment about the secrets we keep, things we fail to say or choose not to. It makes me consider the untruths I’ve been telling and where they fall in the spectrum of secrets.

“So, how does it feel to be home? Different? I mean, I know school is going so well for you. But we’re really happy you’re here,” Mom says.

“I’m happy to be here, too,” I say. “And, well, it’s nice to beback. It feels familiar and... I needed the break.”

Dad looks up from his burger, brow furrowed with concern. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just, school’s hard. I know it’s only been a few months, but still, it’s a lot of transition. And I might have overplayed how great it’s going at Parents Day.” Wow, getting out even a watered-down version of the truth was more excruciating than I imagined. Each word took effort to release. But now that it’s out there, I let out a breath... relieved.

“Well, that’s to be expected, honey. It’s a new home, you’re on your own for the first time, and college courses are no joke. I remember my first semester at Brighton. I cried a lot,” Dad admits.