Her mother barked an explosive rebuke in Armenian.
Sophie didn’t want this to devolve into a family feud over the ever-touchy subject of money. “Daddy, I promise I’ll get a job before Christmas even if it’s like the graveyard shift at a gas station.”
This time her mother’s hectoring warning ripped out in a long string of sounds so fast that her fractured knowledge of Armenian couldn’t keep up.
“That’s not necessary. I just don’t want you to spend all of your time holed up in your room or with that new boy,” her father said sternly, a placating hand held up to his wife. “I want you to get used to working, even if it’s a few hours a week. Of course, your studies come first.”
“Exactly.” Her mother beamed.
Sophie hesitated. “Do you know something?”
“Hm?” Her father’s spoonful of stuffing hesitated between plate and lips.
“I have really, really good hearing. Almost— I don’t know. Superhuman.”
Her parents exchanged a look. “We’ve always said that,Sers,” her mother replied.
“I used to think people were insulting me and talking about me all the time, right in front of me, like I wasn’t even there. Jesse helped me realize that I’m overhearing a lot of questions and curious remarks that aren’t meant to be rude. Maybe they still are, but I’m not as upset by them anymore.” Sophie shrugged. “I mean, hey, we used to ask ourselves the same things all the time. Why do I look like I’m made out of milk? Who’s paler, me or the mashed potatoes?”
“Stop it,Ewa,” her father chided, fork stabbing viciously into the turkey on his plate.
“I’m starting to hear people talk about me in a good way, too. I’m starting to hear a lot of things I never noticed in orchestra, the way sounds fit together...” she tilted her head, eyes closed, as if hearing strains of music, “even my conductor notices.”
Sophie opened her eyes to see her parents involved in an intense staring battle. “I’m not hearing voices, geez, guys. I was trying to explain that it used to be hard for me to think about taking a job where I knew people would stare at me and maybe talk about me, maybe right to my face. But I don’t have that problem anymore. I still don’t look forward to it, but I’m not dreading it. I promise I’ll apply when I get back.”
Her father’s broad jaw unclenched slightly as he nodded.
“What if her job makes her work over Christmas break, Sam? Then she won’t be home for the holidays!”
“I’ll try to find a job on campus!” Sophie interjected as her mother’s large, liquid eyes began to blink rapidly, signaling theonset of tears. “I’m sure that’ll follow the academic calendar. Mom! Don’t cry. Dad, do something.”
“Alidz, don’t. Sophie is happy! Hrm. We can brave the city for a jersey for this ‘boyfriend’. But if he breaks your heart, I break his nose.”
She had a sudden image of her father towering over the already taller-than-her Jesse, Jesse’s eyes comically wide and panicked. “I don’t think you have to worry. We care about each other but we’re not serious.”
“But he loves you!” her mother exclaimed.
“What?”
“That poor turkey. You don’t have to kill it twice,” Sophie muttered as her father stabbed his plate again. “Think of it more like friendship with extras. No! Not that, Mom, that’s friends with benefits,” she cut off her mother’s horrified squeak. “Think friendship with a side of romance. We know we’re both young people in college. This might not last. Chill.”
Her parents exchanged another look and then burst out laughing.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“For the last thirteen years we’ve been trying to getyouto ‘chill.’ I think I will like this boy,” her mother chuckled.
“I’M PASSING THE SCENICOverlook sign. Are you back yet?” Sophie spoke through the bluetooth setting on her car’s radio, the phone perched in her cup holder. The reception in the heart of the mountains was poor and the roads were treacherous. She knew she should wait to call, but she couldn’t. At the last redlight before the overlook, she’d given in to her desire and called.
Jesse’s voice crackled over the patchy connection, but it was relieved and warm. “I just got back twenty minutes ago. Um. Do you wanna meet up? I know it’s late.”
Was it late? Sophie realized it was almost nine. “Sure.”
His voice popped and broke. “You can come over here if you want.”
She’d never been to his dorm, or to anyone’s dorm for that matter. “Okay.”
“Basement level of Ramsey, 104.”
