I would have been happy hanging with the Us all night, but instead I just drew an arrow next to upbraid to mark where I’d left off, and headed toward the sweet, slightly indecent smell of my mother’s pot roast to do what I was told. Otherwise known as twenty minutes until my Chinese water torture. Laurel, tell your brother to get dressed! We have to leave in twenty minutes! My mom yelled down the hallway from her bedroom. I pictured myself making cake frosting in our chipped blue china bowl, pulling the snot of an egg away from its yolk. Lee from my SAT prep course taught us to create a mental image that would help us remember what a word meant. I was sixteen, and I had the test date, less than two weeks away, marked with three purple exclamation points on my wall calendar. It was April of my junior year in high school. I use this word, unyoke, because I spent my last few hours of Before studying the Us on an SAT vocabulary list. One part of your life unyokes from the other. What I’m talking about here is the ka- pow, shake-you-to-your-core-and-turn-your-bones-to-plastic kind of crappy. Anyone who’s had something truly crappy happen to them will tell you: It’s all about Before and After.
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