“Yeah?”
“Are you going to get up?”
“No.”
“We’re waiting on you for tea.”
“I’m not thirsty.”
“You have to come have tea with us,” Laleh complained from the door.
I was not in the mood for tea.
It was the first time in my life I had ever not wanted tea.
“I don’t feel like it.”
Dad dodged the Dancing Fan and sat beside me on the edge of the bed, generating a gravity well to try and pull me out.
Standard Parental Maneuver Alpha.
“You need to get back on a proper sleep schedule. Come on. Get up.”
“I will. In a little while.”
“Now, Darius.”
“Dad...”
“I’m serious. Let’s go.”
Dad grabbed my blankets, but I clenched them harder to stop him.
“Dad,” I whispered, “I’m, uh, naked.”
I did not think I could survive any more penile humiliation today.
Dad cleared his throat. “Laleh, why don’t you go on?”
“Secrets don’t make friends!” she said.
Sometimes my sister was very nosy.
“It’s not a secret, Laleh. It’s just none of your business.”
“Hey! That’s not nice.”
“So?”
Dad interrupted us before we could devolve into an argument.
“Go on, Laleh,” Dad said. He glared at me to be quiet. “We’ll be right there.”
I waited for theflap-flap-flapof Laleh’s bare feet on the hallway floor to recede.
And then Dad said, “Better not pick a fight if you’re not dressed for one.”
“I wasn’t trying to pick a fight.”
