Which is not something Dad and I do very often. We don’t exactly have much in common.
But on the road, he asks, “How’s your portfolio thing coming along?”
“Okay I guess.” I did my best with it over break, since Dr. L basically abandoned me.
“When do I get to see it?”
“Whenever you like.”
We fall into silence again. Dad reaches for the radio and turns it on—he usually listens to NPR—but then he turns it off again. He asks me how rehearsals are going. And reminds me he wants tickets. And I ask him how the hospital is.
As we stop in the student drop-off, he turns to me.
“You know, your amou Sina and I got into the worst fights growing up. So bad I thought we’d never talk again. But sooner or later we forgave each other. Just give it time.”
Time? Dad doesn’t understand.
I don’t think there’s anything that can ever fix this.
“Thanks, Dad.” I grab my shmoodies and head inside.
There’s a crowd around the Theatre Board when I get upstairs, and it’s covered in twice as much paper as it was Friday. I don’t have time to deal with someone vandalizing it again.
But as I get closer, people start to notice me. The chatter gets quiet.
Paige spins around and stares at me, and there’s something in her eyes. I don’t know what it is. But I don’t like it.
There’s a familiar pair of shoulders near the front. Liam, standing right next to Dr. Lochley, her scarf half-unwound as they both stare at the board.
It’s covered with my breakup lists.
42
There’s the one for Cam. And the one for Philip. The other guys I’ve had crushes on. All the teachers who spoke slowly to me because they thought me being deaf meant I wasn’t smart enough to follow along in class. Braden. Paige. Dr. Lochley.
Worst of all: Liam.
He keeps staring at it. Jasmine’s added an item, in bright pink Sharpie:
CHEATER
And right in the center of the board is a fresh list entirely in her handwriting.
JACKSON GHASNAVI'S BREAKUP LIST:
SELFISH
CYNICAL
HATES EVERYONE
CONSTANTLY BACKBITING
JEALOUS
COWARD
And biggest of all:
