Page 152 of For the Fans
He made that clear when I was twelve, and he chose an image over his own son.
“But why?” Avi asks. “You’re, like, the perfect son.” I scoff, but he keeps going. “No, I’m serious. You’re smart as hell, great at school… A goddamn college football star on his way to the NFL. What could he possibly have to complain about?”
The room goes silent for several thick seconds before I say, “I broke up our family…”
“How??” His baffled gaze is hot on my face. “That doesn’t even make sense…”
“Avi, I don’t really want to talk about it,” I sigh tiredly. “Just be glad you have a parent who loves you unconditionally… No matter what you do.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and my gut is churning anxiously. But then his fingers slip up into my hair, and he brushes the strands gently. Closing my eyes, I let out a breath, loving the feeling and reeling from it at the same time.
“And your sister?” He speaks softly. “Where does she fit into all this?”
I swallow. “Bridget left because she couldn’t deal with it…”
“With what?”
“Them. My mom and dad, and their… blatant disregard for us.” Shifting onto my side, I face him, locking our eyes. “Everything we had was on the surface. Wealthy, tons of friends. That smiling family in church every Sunday, thankingGodfor all our blessings… But it was bullshit. It was an act. Faking shit only lasts for so long…” I blink, then mumble, “I guess.”
Avi’s eyes sparkle with inquisition. I can tell he wants more information, but thankfully he doesn’t pry. He just asks, “Are you mad that she left? Because you wanted to go too…?”
I bite down on the inside of my cheek. “I just miss my sister. I don’t blame her for leaving. I wish she hadn’t, but I get it.”
His fingers trail down my shoulder, onto my arm. “Why didn’t you go farther? For school, I mean. If you really wanted to get away from here…”
I breathe out slowly. “It probably sounds dumb, but I love Boston. This place is my home… I didn’t want to let the bad memories ruin it for me.” I pause, considering this. “Part of me regrets it… Or, Idid. I used to…”
My eyes fall to where his chest is moving, breaths seeming to pick up with my subtle confession.
“Are you saying you don’t hate me as much as you used to?” His lips quirk, and I purse mine to keep from grinning.
“It’s slowly wavering.” A tiny one sneaks through, and he chuckles.
“Remember my eighteenth birthday?” He smirks, fingers gliding down to my hand. “How pissed off you were when you found out I was going to BC?”
I laugh quietly. “I remember kicking your ass…”
He gasps in outrage. “You wish! I schooled you.”
“In your fucking dreams.” I shove him gently.
But my hand stays on his chest.
And then it falls, slowly, down to his waist. The amusement disappears, and we stare at each other, breathing shallow as the warmth between our bodies swallows us up, closing the mere inches of space that separate us.
“Will you tell me things about you now?” I whisper. “Things I don’t know…”
He shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell, really. It’s always just been me and my mom. My dad died when I was six, and that was pretty awful…” His throat bobs. “But it was a long time ago.”
“You don’t have any other family?”
He shakes his head. “Not really. None that we communicate with. I have one aunt in Brooklyn, my dad’s sister. The rest of his family lives in Spain. And my mom’s family disowned her because she didn’t fit in with them. She didn’t agree with a lot of their ideals…”
“You mean like religion?”
He nods. “She’s never had much interest in it, which I totally get. It’s kind of ridiculous… All these rules and regulations just forfaith.” He scoffs, then peeks at me. “But I don’t need to tell you this. You were raised Catholic, it’s pretty much the same dumb bullshit.”
Don’t I know it…I nod. “Fucking stupid.”
