The Boys are Back in Town

The Boys are Back in Town: Twenty-Four

On the third day of spring break, my dad came home early from work and sat me down for a talk.

Well, I was already sitting down with a book and a cup of coffee, and he sat down across from me and cleared his throat until I looked up.

I closed my book and sat upright, crossing my ankles. "Yes, father?"

"Don't give me that crap, Matthews," he said.

I laughed and relaxed, putting my feet up on the coffee table. "What's up, dad?"

"Senior year goes by fast," he started. I tensed slightly, already anticipating where this would go. "Have you given any thought to what you'll do after?"

I tapped nervously on the rim of my coffee cup. "College?"

"Sure, if you want," he said agreeably.

"If I want?"

My dad shrugged. "Some people want to take a gap year—travel, see the world, that kind of thing."

"Is that an option for me?" I asked hesitantly. "Shouldn't I go to college first?"

"Honey, you can do either. What do you want to do?"

I shook my head. "I don't really know," I said quietly, relieving the same talk I had with Alek only weeks before. "That's the problem."

"Come on," my dad said, tapping his temple. "You're talking to a college professor. I've dealt with this hundreds of times."

I chuckled. "Dad, you're a history professor, not a counselor."

"The point is," he stressed. "I know a thing or two about giving advice to the young ones."

"The young ones. Psha," I grinned.

"Hey," he said sternly, holding back a smile.

"I mean, it's not like I haven't thought it over," I said. "I have. A lot. But I just don't know what I want to do yet."

"Well," he contemplated. "What do you know?"

I shrugged. "I know that I want to go to college. I don't know if I want to do it right away, since you gave me that option. Maybe I want to take up literature or fine arts. I haven't decided."

"See? You already have an idea of what you want. That's better than nothing, honey. You have a whole year to decide."

"No offense, dad, but why did you have to bring it up now?" I grimaced. "You're kind of ruining my spring break vibes."

He looked pointedly at the book on my lap. War and Peace. "Yeah, I'm the one bumming up this hot party."

***

"War and Peace?" I asked skeptically, when Alek handed me the book. It was a small, fat, Penguin Classics edition with a girl's face on the cover. "Really?"

"I just finished reading it," Alek said, his face bright with the kind of emotion I associated as book infatuation. "Trust me."

There was no one who's taste in books I trusted more. Reese Witherspoon came second, and Emma Watson third, but they didn't know my reading tastes like Alek did. We shared all our favorite books because we loved to talk about them. Besides, there was something lonely about keeping a book to yourself.

"Okay," I said, flipping through the book. He'd starred some of the passages. "I mean, I do have all of spring break."

***

"It's Alek's book," I said. "I was dubious, but he asked me to try."

My dad smiled knowingly. "You guys are getting pretty serious?"

I made a face. "Dad."

He shrugged. "I mean, maybe while we're at it, we should have another talk."

"Please don't," I begged.

"Honey, I just want you to be safe," he said. "Now, your mom and I—"

"I'm leaving in three seconds if you don't terminate this conversation," I said loudly. "Three...two..."

"Okay, okay," he said placatingly. "Listen, I trust you guys. And I've known Alek since before his voice broke. Just... don't give me grandkids too early alright?"

"Please," I dropped my head on a throw pillow and resisted the urge to kick my feet in frustration. I was mortified and I did not want to have this talk with my dad.

"I'm still considered a 'hot prof' in my department," he continued, ignoring my silent tantrum. "And to be honest, becoming a grandpa would kind of put a damper on that."

I picked up my book and stalked upstairs, slamming the door to my room.

"Good talk, honey," my dad shouted. "Love you!"

***

"It's not funny!" I complained. "I swear, he was this close to telling me what kind of contraceptive he and my mom use."

Alek and I both shuddered at the thought, though he was still chuckling. He was sitting on his desk, finishing up an assignment, and I was on his bed with his copy of War and Peace.

"By the way, Jason sent me a message asking me when we're free to have dinner with him at Little Italy."

Alek looked affronted. "How did he get your number?"

"He didn't. He added me on Facebook," I said. "Why?"

He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like termite, and I smiled. "So, when do you want to go?"

"I'm free tomorrow night," he said. As I typed out a message to Jason, he closed his laptop and squeezed in next to me. Alek laid his head on my stomach and closed his eyes. "Power nap," he murmured.

I smoothed his hair back and picked up my book. My talk with my dad and thoughts of the future and all the decisions I would have to make still lingered in my mind, but for now there was Alek, and his arm around my torso and the comfort I felt in knowing I had this one sure thing.