Fangirl

after dinner. He was telling her about a new pitch. Gravioli was going so well, his agency was getting a shot at a sister brand, Frankenbeans. Cath sat on a barstool and listened.
    “So I was thinking, maybe this time I just let Kelly pitch his terrible ideas first. Cartoon beans with Frankenstein hair. ‘Monstrously delicious,’ whatever. These people always reject the first thing they hear—”
    “Dad, I need to talk to you about something.”
    He peeked over his shoulder. “I thought you’d already googled all that period and birds-and-bees stuff.”
    “Dad…”
    He turned around, suddenly concerned. “Are you pregnant? Are you gay? I’d rather you were gay than pregnant. Unless you’re pregnant. Then we’ll deal. Whatever it is, we’ll deal. Are you pregnant?”
    “No,” Cath said.
    “Okay…” He leaned back against the sink and began tapping wet fingers against the counter.
    “I’m not gay either.”
    “What does that leave?”
    “Um … school, I guess.”
    “You’re having problems in school? I don’t believe that. Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”
    “I’m not really having problems.…” Cath said. “I’ve just decided that I’m not going back.”
    Her dad looked at her like he was still waiting for her to give a real answer.
    “I’m not going back for second semester,” she said.
    “Because?”
    “Because I don’t want to. Because I don’t like it.”
    He wiped his hands on his jeans. “You don’t like it?”
    “I don’t belong there.”
    He shrugged. “Well, you don’t have to stay there forever.”
    “No,” she said. “I mean, UNL is a bad fit for me. I didn’t choose it, Wren did. And it’s fine for Wren, she’s happy, but it’s bad for me. I just … it’s like every day there is still the first day.”
    “But Wren is there—”
    Cath shook her head. “She doesn’t need me.” Not like you do, Cath just stopped herself from saying.
    “What will you do?”
    “I’ll live here. Go to school here.”
    “At UNO?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Have you registered?”
    Cath hadn’t thought that part through yet. “I will.…”
    “You should stick out the year,” he said. “You’ll lose your scholarship.”
    “No,” Cath said, “I don’t care about that.”
    “Well, I do.”
    “That’s not what I meant. I can get loans. I’ll get a job, too.”
    “And a car?”
    “I guess.…”
    Her dad took off his glasses and started cleaning them with his shirt. “You should stick out the year. We’ll look at it again in the spring.”
    “No,” she said. “I just…” She rubbed the neck of her T-shirt into her sternum. “I can’t go back there. I hate it. And it’s pointless. And I can do so much more good here.”
    He sighed. “I wondered if that’s what this was about.” He put his glasses back on. “Cath, you’re not moving back home to take care of me.”
    “That’s not the main reason—but it wouldn’t be a bad thing. You do better when you’re not alone.”
    “I agree. And I’ve already talked to your grandmother. It was too much, too soon when you guys both moved out at once. Grandma’s going to check in with me a few times a week. We’re going to eat dinner together. I might even stay with her for a while if things start to look rough again.”
    “So you can move back home, but I can’t? I’m only eighteen.”
    “Exactly. You’re only eighteen. You’re not going to throw your life away to take care of me.”
    “I’m not throwing my life away.” Such as it is, she thought. “I’m trying to think for myself for the first time. I followed Wren to Lincoln, and she doesn’t even want me there. Nobody wants me there.”
    “Tell me about it,” he said. “Tell me why you’re so unhappy.”
    “It’s just … everything. There are too many people. And I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to be. Nothing that I’m good at is the sort of thing that matters there. Being smart doesn’t matter—and being good with words. And when those things do matter, it’s only because people want something from me. Not because they want me. ”
    The sympathy in his face was painful. “This doesn’t sound like a decision, Cath. This sounds like giving up.”
    “So what? I mean—” Her hands flew up, then fell in her lap. “—so what ? It’s not like I get a medal for sticking it out. It’s just school. Who cares where I do it?”
    “You think it would be easier if you lived here.”
    “Yes.”
    “That’s a crappy