Page 163 of Inside the Sun

I clear my throat. I’m not about to tell him Anzo’s been replying to his texts.

"I’ve just been in a weird place," I say quickly, hating that I have to lie to him again.

Our eyes meet, and his are searching through my soul.

So I hesitate, then add softly, trying to steer us into safer waters, "You know, sometimes I think this major might not be for me. I’m not sure this is what I want to do with my life, Dad."

After I say it, my eyes immediately avert and drift around the empty dorm room.

It’s an alien place, I don’t live here. It’s weird he hasn’t noticed how completely bare it is. Dust has settled on the windowsill.

Dad takes my hand and smiles gently.

"You know how your father and I have always felt about your choices. If it’s not for you, we’re not going to force you into this major. You had a taste of it over the summer. If it doesn’t feel right, we’ll figure something else out."

"Sometimes I think I don’t want to go to college at all," I mumble, lowering my head. "I just want to live for a while. Travel. See the world. Other countries, cultures, people, ways of thinking," I ramble. "I don’t know if the whole work-from-eight-to-three thing is really my path."

All of this is true, but I’m also saying it to plant a seed, so if I disappear, my dad will think I went off to find freedom, not that I was tortured to death by some mobster. Maybe it’s better for him to have that good memory, that hope I’m out there somewhere, traveling, happy, just living my free life…

He listens closely, not interrupting, his turquoise eyes fixed on me.

"Sometimes I think about just vanishing, Dad… living off the grid. A simple life where time flows from morning to morning…"

"Sweetheart, the semester starts in just a week and a half. Think it over, and let us know. If you want, come home and rest a bit, take a moment for —"

"No, no, I’ve still got some things to take care of here. I just wanted to see you. I didn’t want to just show up at the house and crash with everyone…"

"Crash? Sun! Everyone would be thrilled to see you!"

I squeeze his hand tighter, it’s so much smaller than mine. I look at it for a moment. Dad may look thirty-five, but he’s actually sixty, and maybe it shows most in his hands. The hands that held me, fed me, hugged me. Worn but gentle. Hands that never once hit me, never hurt me. I lift his hand slowly and suddenly… I kiss it, full of respect.

"Thank you for everything, Dad. You’ve been the best dad anyone could ever ask for."

He quickly pulls his hand back, looking almost embarrassed.

"What are you saying, hon? Why are you talking like we’ll never see each other again? You’re starting to worry me…"

"No! I don’t want you to worry. I just wanted you to know how awesome you are."

"‘Awesome’—that might be the highest compliment a dad can get," he smiles warmly, then suddenly waves his hands like he remembered something.

"Oh! I almost forgot! I’ve got something for you! Snow asked me to give it to you."

"Snow?" I raise my eyebrow. Not that I have much in common with my eccentric freak of a brother.

"Yeah." Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of paper. A classic paper letter… totally something Snow would do.

My jaw tightens. I’m afraid Matteo will think this is some kind of secret code between us. But I can’t help myself, I grab it, open it, and scan Snow’s tiny, neat handwriting. He really could write wedding invitations.

"Don’t be afraid to come home. Exactly ten days from now."

That’s all it says. I stare at it for a second, then quickly tuck the letter into my pocket without saying anything, my heart pounding.

"What was that?" Dad asks with a smile.

"He just wanted to cheer me up," I say, smiling back.

Dad hesitates, his nostrils flaring, then says, "Sweetheart, have you been drinking lately?"

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