Page 25 of The Golden Boy’s Guide to Bipolar

some of your impulsive decisions might be coming from. We know that when you go through a period of this much energy, or a

period of depression, that it’s only temporary. I hope that can bring you some peace the next time you experience that.”

“I’m not that impulsive,” I mumble. She doesn’t know what the fuck she’s talking about.

I just tune her out while she goes on explaining irrelevant shit to me about a disorder I don’t have. Eventually she looks at the clock in the corner of the room. “That’s about our time for today. The group session starts in a few minutes, would you like to stay for that?”

“Nope!” I say as I get up and walk out.

Dr. Lee is wrong. She doesn’t know anything about me. I’m not going to that group today, or ever.

Since I won’t be officially reenrolled at Rover until Monday, the rest of the week drags on while Moni’s at school. The chores

feel endless, and I swear time flows backward at one point. Even on Friday, the boredom doesn’t end when Moni’s done for the

week, since she has her own chores, homework, and violin practice to do.

Lucky enough for her, though, she gets out of practice early since her dad called to talk to her. I know Abuela’s been talking

to both Tío Paco and my mom with updates about both of us, but my mom hasn’t asked to talk to me the way Tío Paco does with

Moni. I have to keep reminding myself it’s a good thing.

Moni puts her dad on FaceTime, so I do my best to mind my business while I scrub the grout between tiles with a toothbrush.

Still, neither of them is exactly discreet, and like I said... I’m bored.

“So have you made up your mind about which college you want to—” Tío Paco starts, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“I already told you I’m not going to school for music anymore.”

An audible sigh. “Mija, do you know how many young girls would kill for a scholarship to Curtis? How many would kill for your

spot at Juilliard ? You can’t throw away your chance at a future just to make a point.”

I cringe at how familiar this conversation is. It honestly makes me relieved my mom is so done with me. Abuela starts making dinner quieter, like she’s also pretending not to listen.

“And what point would that be, exactly?” Moni tilts her head in an innocent question mark.

“You know very well what I mean, Monica.”

“Aww, it’s so sweet how much you care.” She puts her hand over her chest. “I know you’re just worried about my future, Papi.

I would be too, if I was you! I know some people these days have to go by a pasty Anglo name in the office and kiss their

boss’s greedy white ass to find success, but you don’t have to worry about that with me, Patrick . Not everyone can be successful without selling out to a giant pharmaceutical corporation that punches down on the vulnerable,

but I run my business ethically . So thank you so much for the concern, but I don’t need your career advice.”

I let out a cough to keep myself from laughing, but no one seems to notice I’ve been cleaning between the same two tiles this

entire conversation. Abuela is still pretending not to listen, though she’s somehow not making a sound in the kitchen. My

guess is that she actually agrees with Moni about Tío Paco’s job.

“Very funny, Monica.” My tío doesn’t even sound taken aback, like this is just another regular conversation with his kid.

I almost want to ask what Moni means by the whole punching-down thing, but I figure it’s a conversation for later. For now,

I just clean quietly while Moni and her dad bicker over her future.

It isn’t until we’re in bed for the night that it comes back up, and I’m not even the one to say anything.

“Ugh... ,” she groans. Moni seems to love waiting until I could plausibly be asleep to make conversation.

I wait, expecting her to follow up her groaning with an actual complaint, but she just groans louder. “Uggghhhhh...”

“You okay?” I ask before she decides to start kicking my mattress again.

“Can you believe my dad? What is his problem?”

“Yeah, I feel you,” I say. “My mom’s kind of the same way. At least, she was...” I trail off before mentioning my mom wants

nothing to do with me anymore.

“Can they both just chill the fuck out? If my dad has enough money to pay my way through Juilliard, why not ASU? But no, he’ll only pay if I do a music program. If he doesn’t want me to make my own tuition money, he should fucking help me! Like

I know my dad invested a lot in my music, but it was never what I wanted.”

“They don’t care what we want,” I say, but the realization doesn’t hurt as much as it should. I feel for Moni, but I did this

to myself.

“You’d think he’d understand that. I doubt his dream job was to pay off doctors to prescribe a specific medication regardless

of a patient’s needs.”

“Wait, what?” I knew Moni’s dad didn’t have the most virtuous of jobs, but I didn’t even think something like that was a thing.

“People do that?”

“Yup, and they all get to profit without actually helping the people they’re burying alive in medical debt. And I’m the one who needs to rethink my priorities?”

I haven’t been taking my meds for a while, but if I ever had an inkling to go back on them, it’s gone now. If doctors can

be paid off like that, then there’s no way I can trust Dr. Lee. And if I can’t trust my therapist, who can I trust?

I can’t rely on therapy or medication or any kind of support system. I pushed everyone else away, so all I have is me.

And I know better than anyone how shit my own company is.

Even I don’t want it.