Page 10 of For the Fans
“Oh, wow!” Hannah gasps with zeal. “Boston College football… Isn’t that exciting, Avi?”
“I wouldn’t sayexciting…” Avi shrugs again while eating.
“Avi was looking into BC also,” Hannah tells us.
Avi’s head springs up. “I was??”
She ignores him, speaking more to my father than anyone else. “They have a great art program.”
Dad nods along. “I’ve heard that. Somerville High also has some great art classes, though Ky isn’t exactly interested in that. It’s all about football, which is why we chose the public school over private. Their team wasn’t exactly on par…”
Oh, yea. Sure, Dad.That’swhy we chose the public school…
“BC sounds just great,” Hannah sighs.
My dad grins. “Wouldn’t it be fun if you two went to the same place?”
It seems like he’s asking us, but he’s not looking at us at all. His eyes are only on Hannah, and I’ve completely lost my appetite. He’s trying so hard to impress her, and it’s making me nauseous.
“Can I be excused?” I gripe.
“Absolutely not. We just sat down,” Dad barks quietly without looking at me. “So, tell us all about New York, you two. What was it like living in Brooklyn?”
I… don’t… care.I have to fight the urge to drop my face onto my plate.
Hannah regales us with the story of their life in Brooklyn before they moved here last year. And I’m assuming that my dad already knows most of these details, but he still seems swept away by listening to her speak.
Apparently, her husband passed away years ago, but she doesn’t go into what happened, and it has my curiosity sort of piqued. Until she mentions where she’s really from…
Hannah was born in Israel. She left there when she was young and moved to Lebanon with some family before immigrating to the States when she was eighteen. From what I’m gathering, she’s never really gotten along well with her family, but when she married her late husband, who was Spanish, I guess she was sort of shunned from their community.
I’m finding her history pretty fascinating, but I can barely even pay attention to that because my mind is too busy reelingover the fact thatmy father, who was raised strictly Irish Catholic, is dating a Jewish woman.
I never thought I’d see the day.
I guess Hannah and Avi don’t practice Judaism at all. They both mention that they’re more spiritual than religious, which is also too much for me to unpack right now. I’m justbaffledthat my father is going along with this…
My father, Thomas Harbor… Who brought me to Catholic church mywholelife. Had me and my sister baptized and had me go through communion… Who sent me to church camp until I was twelve and forced me to be an altar boy…
My hands are growing awfully sweaty, and I have to keep rubbing my palms on my jeans. Sure, I haven’t set foot in a church in years. But my father still considers himself a die-hard Catholic.
The whole thing is making my head spin, among other things… But now more than ever, I just want this meal to be over. I have a pounding migraine coming on, and I’m sick of feeling all shredded up inside while the kid across the table from me sits there and grins casually, like he doesn’t have a care in the goddamn world, inmyhouse.
By the time we’re done with dinner and dessert, I’m practically running out onto the back deck for some air. I need to be alone for a few, to clear my head. Everything feels so congested.
I only get about three minutes to myself before I hear someone stepping outside behind me.
“You have a nice place.” The grungy male voice stiffens my spine and forces me to peer over my shoulder. “Somerville seems cool.”
“Why? Where doyoulive?” I scoff, like a snob, but I can’t help it. I’m not in the mood to be talking to him.
“Malden,” Avi says, either not picking up on my attitude because he’s an airhead, or choosing to ignore it because it doesn’t affect him.I’ve decided it’s the former.“We’re just in an apartment for now… It’s okay, but I’d like to have more room. Like this—”
“Well, guess what.” I spin to face him. “You’re not getting it. I don’t know what you think… If you and your mom are just looking for someone with money to support you or something, but it’s not gonna happen. Go find some other family to leech onto and leave us alone.”
A flash of what might be vulnerability shines in his eyes, rippling their grayish version of light blue. I’m not trying to focus on it, but it’s just happening.
The sting of my comment wears off quickly, and Avi pulls one of his blithe little smirks he’s been wearing all night.
