You laugh.
Yeah, the week has sucked so far. And yeah, you wish you could go back and not do what you did.
But you like Brody. He gets you. And being his friend takes the sting out of everything.
You breathe a little easier as you grip the straps of your backpack and wait for your dad.
PART 2november
8FARSHID
At breakfast, your father sits at the table right next to you, not in his usual spot closest to the coffeepot. That’s if he even sits at all; most days, he fills his thermos, wishes you and Jina a good day, kisses Maman, and heads for the garage.
But today Baba drops into the chair next to you as you eat your scrambled eggs. They’re a bit rubbery; you still tend to overcook them. Maman thinks you have the heat too high, but you don’t need them to be fluffy and perfect, you need them to be high in protein, which they are, whether they’re golden clouds or burnt yellow pebbles.
Baba’s hair has started thinning in the back lately, and he seems to have decided to offset it by growing a beard, which you can’t remember him ever doing before. He’s losing his summer tan, you both are, desert-brown skin fading to a lighter shade of earth.
“Farshid,” he says, like he’s pronouncing judgment on you, but you haven’t done anything wrong recently, other than the fact you keep fighting with your mom. You haven’t done much of anything except school, and homework, and the new gym you begged Baba to sign you up for, a boxing-gym franchise that’s a mile away, so you can jog to it every day.
He seems to realize he sounds too serious, too, because heclears his throat and tries again. “You’re growing up, baba,” he says.
Please, please don’t let this be anothertalk.
You don’t know if you can survive another one. The last one, after he noticed you’d left the lotion on the sink counter instead of its usual spot in the cabinet, was enough to make you want to throw yourself into the Missouri River.
“Yeah?” you ask, shoveling another forkful of eggs into your mouth. You’ve still got to shower before school.
He nods and sets a plastic Target bag on the table.
“Your mom and I want you to feel confident,” he says, switching to Farsi. You’ve noticed he does that whenever he’s uncomfortable with the subject. “So we got you this.”
Please, please, please…
You don’t know what it is you’re dreading, exactly, but thankfully it’s not that.
What itisis an electric razor.
Your ears start to tingle as you stare at it.
“It’s time you started grooming. If you want to. But your mustache is getting…”
He hesitates.
The Persian language is one of poetry, of metaphor, of obliquely saying what you mean. But apparently even the language of Rumi and Hafez is failing Baba, who finally switches back to English. “Scruffy.”
You drop your fork and reach for your upper lip. The hair up there has been getting darker, you suppose, but not, like, amustache. It’s just peach fuzz. From a slightly darker peach.
“It’s your choice,” he says, reaching over to ruffle your hair, buthe stops himself, because it’s damp from your morning workout. You hate getting up at five in the morning for the early class, but you like being able to get eight rounds in before school, and making it home with enough time to eat and shower. Then you can go back after school, catch another class, lift weights, and run home for dinner.
Baba pats his thighs and stands. “I’ve got to get to work. Love you, baba.”
“Love you,” you say as he leaves. You shovel the rest of your eggs into your mouth, stick your plate in the dishwasher, and run to the bathroom, which Jina has thankfully vacated.
You stare at your face in the mirror. You didn’t think it was that obvious, but now, you can’t help noticing how uneven all the hairs are, some longer, some shorter, some darker, some lighter, denser in some places than others. Youdolook scruffy. And though you’re getting some gains in your legs from all the squats—they’re solidly B-tier now—your arms are still too gangly, and your shoulders haven’t broadened like you want them to, despite all the boxing and the protein shakes and the eggs every morning.
It turns out you should’ve been more worried about your upper body genetics than your lower body, but you’re doing your best to compensate.
You’ve also got a fresh pimple coming in on your chin, plus an old one healing on your nose.
