“There’s this girl I’ve been talking to. She’s sort of famous in the video game world.” I stammer the words out, still reeling over what I found out about Dad, but I have to talk about something else. Anything. “She’s being targeted by a bunch of trolls online. They’ve been harassing her on social media and in the games she plays.”
“That’s awful!” my mom exclaims. “Why?”
“That’s the big question, isn’t it? ’Cause she’s a girl. ’Cause she’s brown like us. ’Cause people are garbage. ’Cause you can’t trust anyone anymore.” I feel myself getting heated and try to dial it back. “It gets worse, though. They sent her emails, pictures of her apartment building. They harassed her mom where she works.” I watch as my mom’s face goes from surprise to abject horror. “And since I’m associated with her, Jason said he has to sever ties with me, since his game company is getting all this attention now from those trolls, and that’s supposedly our audience.”
“And how long have you been hanging out with this girl?” my mom asks. It feels like she’s asking the wrong question here.
“We haven’t. We just talk online, game sometimes.”
My mom fiddles with her ID badge, and her eyes search the room.
“Aaron, I’m not sure you should be—”
“Please don’t tell me not to talk to her anymore,” I plead, standing up. “Jason is already pushing me away.”
“How’s it going to look on college applications with your name in the news and—”
“Mom, I’m already in the news! On the blogs! And I’m not going to be a doctor!” I shout. I grab my phone off the desk and charge by her. “Who the fuck cares?”
“Aaron, don’t use that language with me,” she says sternly. I can feel myself breathing heavily now, my chest tight, and I know the rage isn’t just about D1V and my mom’s disapproval and what she wants for my career, but I don’t care.
“You’re going to medical school, or we aren’t paying for college—”
“Will you stop hanging that over me already?!” I roar, almost to the door. “I’ll take out student loans! I’ll go into horrible debt! I’ll work shitty jobs like...like Dad did for years, if that means I can get away from all this and you and live the life I want. It’s bad enough you keep Dad locked up in here. You can’t keep pushing me to do the same thing.”
“Aaron.” My mom suddenly starts tearing up. “Is that what you really think of me? Of this family? I don’t put your dad here and make him do anything. He’s here because I love him, and he loves me. He likes being an active part of his family.”
I’m balling my fists, trying so, so hard not to say something that will shatter this entire family right now. It would be so easy. They’re just words. And then D1V flashes through my mind, reminding me of the way words hurt. The gaping wounds they leave behind. Even words from strangers. Forget them being from family.
Mom takes a step forward, her eyes wet, her mouth trembling in a way I don’t think I’ve ever seen before.
“You ask your dad what it was like for him back home. Ask him,” she says, pointing at me. “You ask him about his old jobs before we got together. The restaurants. The manual labor. All that stuff he hated. I don’t want that for you. And I know he doesn’t want that for you, either. That’s...that’s all parents want. Something better for their children.”
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I hold it up.
“I’m not going to stop talking to her,” I say.
“And I’m not going to stop pushing you toward a better career,” my mom fires back, a watery little smile starting to trickle in at the edge of her mouth.
“I’m not going to stop telling you I won’t do it, though,” I counter. “It’s not what I want for my life.”
“That’s fine.” She shrugs. “You’ve still got your senior year to figure out, and for me to keep convincing you.”
I glance back over at the desk and huff. The PC, all of Dad’s secrets, barely hidden there, a tiny corner of a folder on the desktop. Mom could easily find that, if she wasn’t so busy. Catch the odd pixel out of place down there. A secret agent hiding secrets my dad is not.
The door into the office from the house swings open, and my dad peeks in, as if he’s been summoned by my thoughts. His eyes dart between the two of us, his face awash in concern. I have to struggle to not glare at him as I glance back at the computer, filled with evidence.
I need to read those other letters. I need to find out who he’s talking to. Or has been talking to, all this time.
He steps in and closes the door.
“Mira and I can hear you all way across the house,” he says quietly. “Everything okay? Need me to come back and fill in? I can—”
“You shouldn’t have to—” my mom starts.
“I want to,” my dad insists. “It’s okay.” He turns to me, a small smile on his face. “There’s only a couple patients on the schedule. Go. Enjoy your summer.”
I lower my head, forcing myself to unclench my jaw. He keeps smiling back, oblivious to what I’ve found. A number of emotions swirl around inside me—relief that I can escape all of this, but so furious at what I’ve discovered.
I have to turn away, back to my mom. I give her a hug.
“I’m... I’m sorry,” I say. I’ve been so hard on her, and she doesn’t deserve any of this.
“It’s okay,” she says. “Get going.”
And I’m out the door. I don’t look back.
12
DIVYA
There’s a package on my doorstep.
It’s day three...maybe four? Whatever the case, it’s been a minute since I’ve actually ventured outside, or turned on my computer, or bothered with anything. And now, there’s this.
It’s ridiculous. This shouldn’t be the place I’m in right now, in my life. Glaring at packages like they’re something out of a New Jersey Transit public service announcement poster about mysterious, unmarked bags in a train car.
But here we are.
Whatever it is, it’s upside down. I look down the street from my apartment building, one way, and then the other, and then across for any odd cars. No one with tinted windows. No one sitting by and waiting to see the results.
“Ah, fuck it,” I huff, and kick the box over.
My name and address are written on the front, in neat, lovely handwriting. And the return address... I squint for a moment, then squat down to read it. I don’t recognize the address—it’s from out in California someplace—but the last name...