Campus King - Mickey Miller Page 0,1

too quickly.

“You didn’t even think about that question. Is that the ‘mom’ answer or the ‘tough love’ answer?”

She furrows her brow. “Why do you feel like you need tough love?”

My heart flutters for a moment but I don’t say what I’m really thinking. Mom has always been an over-nurturer. My dad was the tough love one—or at least I imagine he’d be that way now with me as a young adult. But he’s been out of the picture for some time now.

“Well, I feel like staying here one more year—my senior year, nonetheless—might be detrimental to my development.”

“In Spain, children live with their parents until they get married,” Mom says. She studied abroad in Barcelona when she was in college and likes to bring it up whenever it’s convenient.

“Yeah, well, they don’t all live with their parents in Spain. Plus, there are way too many mama’s boys in Spain,” I say.

“What’s wrong with being a mama’s boy?” my brother Davin’s voice reverberates as he comes down the stairs.

“Nothing, sweetie, nothing at all,” Mom says, and then whispers to me, though her whisper voice is loud enough for Davin to hear as he approaches, “Are you sure one of your friends wouldn’t want to date Davin?”

Davin comes into the kitchen and pours himself a cup of coffee. “Whoa, whoa, Mom. As much as I appreciate you trying to find me a girlfriend, that’s not necessary. I mean, who wouldn’t want to date me? I’m a total catch. And second, I have plenty of action in my life, thank you very much.”

“When’s the last time you went on a date?” I ask Davin.

“Pssh. That’s none of your business.”

“Yes, it is. You’re under my roof,” Mom adds, because obviously she wants to know the answer to that top-secret information as well.

“Fine, there hasn’t been any action. But it’s because I’ve been concentrating on my acting.”

I cross my arms. “You’ve been auditioning for student films, but even when you get a role, you end up turning it down for some odd excuse you always come up with.”

He furrows his brow defensively. “What?! I do not.”

“Oh? So why did you turn down the role of Professor Kinsley in my friend Alex’s short film?”

“For your information, sis, I turned that role down because I don’t want to get…what’s the word for it. Shoot, I’m blanking. You know when the bird flies into the hole?”

Mom squints. “What are you talking about? A bird flying into a hole?”

“It’s the expression,” Davin says, obviously thinking hard. “I don’t want to get…bird-holed.”

I cock my head. “Are you trying to say ‘pigeonholed?’”

He snaps his finger and points at me. “Boom. That’s what I’m talking about. Charlotte, you were always the smart one in the family. I’m afraid of getting pigeonholed.”

I can’t stifle my laughter. “You’re afraid that a role in a ten-minute short film will bird-hole—excuse me, pigeonhole—your career for the rest of your life. Yeah, sounds like something you should be worried about. Not.”

“This is serious, Char. Remember how hard it was for Matthew McConaughey to get out of doing rom coms? I have artistic integrity, and I didn’t like that professor role.”

My brow furrows and I look at my mom, who is focusing on the pancakes, which Davin will surely eat.

“Davin, I just have to ask you. Are you insane? You’ve been acting in plays at the civic theatre since you graduated from college. You want to break into real acting roles, no matter what they are. No matter how small. Matthew McConaughey was typecast, sure, but he also made millions of dollars doing it. You have to move somewhere that they do theatre, and I mean a lot of theatre. Like L.A.”

“Screw L.A. I’m not selling out and moving to Hollywood. And why are we so focused on me? You still need to figure out what you’re doing after you graduate next year.”

“You’re not selling out. You’re giving yourself the best opportunity to succeed. And for your information, I’m going to be applying to graduate school for journalism, thank you very much.”

“Who wants pancakes?” Mom smiles, and brings a stack of them over to the dining room table. “You sure, Char? Just one?”

I sigh. “Fine. I’ll have one.”

We sit down to eat. The truth is my appetite has been almost non-existent since the breakup. But even though I’m not hungry I probably should at least try to eat.

“Davin, what do you think about Charlotte living here for her senior year of college? Do you think it’s an immature