… But maybe I can leave her withsomething.
It’s midnight when I creep downstairs. I’m a night owl. Dad is too. One of the few things we have in common.
The TV is playing quietly from the living room. It’s the only source of light in the otherwise-dark house. I hover near the wall behind where Dad’s sitting in his recliner. The finale of the fifteenth season ofForest Feudis playing. The season he almost won.
The teenage version of my father runs across the screen. A girl with black hair darts after him. Jungeun Kim. The other member of Dad’s alliance. Finally, Garrett Moxley—the third member of the famous Final Three, andForest Feud’s new host—appears. He’sslow. It never made sense why the two of them didn’t drop him from their alliance. I would’ve asked why, but Garrett Moxley is a sore subject in this household.
Dad turns the TV off when the three of them get to the last fork in the obstacle course race. Right before Garrett betrayed them and convinced them to go down the left path, when he somehow knew the one on the right was the one that led straight to the finish line.
He never rewatches this part. We both know how the finale ends.
I clear my throat.
“Christ!” Dad jumps, looking back at me. “You almost gave me a heart attack. Why are you up?”
I take a seat on the sofa. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the invitation.”
There’s a long pause. “I haven’t told you something either.” He takes a deep breath. “The producers ofForest Feudreached out to me about the reboot a few months back. I told them about you, but they couldn’t guarantee you’d be selected, so I kept my mouth shut until I—”
My jaw drops. “You signed me up? What—why didn’t you tell them about Meredith instead?”
“Because this show isourthing.”
I stiffen at the vulnerability in Dad’s strained voice. I’m grateful for the dark so I don’t have to meet his eyes.
Dad sighs. “I shouldn’t have done it without asking you. I know—I’m sorry. But it just got me excited, imagining you doing the same thing I did at your age. I…” He laughs lightly, awkwardly. “I had this vision of when you go off to college, and we can’t have our weeklyreality show nights anymore, that I could turn on the TV and see you there. That way, it’d almost be like you’re still around.”
His words hit me so hard that my gut turns in on itself. It hurts to leave somebody who doesn’t want to be left alone. I want to give Dad something, too. I turn my eyes to the ceiling when they start to sting. I picture Meredith upstairs, snoring loudly in the childhood bedroom she outgrew a long time ago.
“I wanted to talk to you about Mare,” I say.
The recliner squeaks as Dad shifts uncomfortably. He knows what I’m going to say. “A big city like Portland is dangerous, it’s no place for a young girl on her own. I’m just looking out for her.”
Meredith is more than capable of looking out for herself. More than I am, frankly. It’s not fair how differently he treats us, just because one twin came out as a girl. I should tell himthat.
But the words get stuck in my throat, as they always do.
In truth, I don’t have the courage to break the safe, comfortable dynamic between me and Dad. We don’t have a lot. He and Meredith? They share nearly everything: their love for sports, their taste in food, their effortless charm. But me and Dad? We have trashy reality TV, conversations about Mom, and an unspoken understanding that I’m his easy child. I’m not the one who pushes his buttons. If I ruin that, what will we have left? Mom’s long gone, and pretty soon, he’ll be watching reruns by himself.
So, instead, I say, “I’ll go onForestFeud.”
He pauses. “Really?”
“Butonlyif you let Meredith move to Portland with me. You told her she has to fund the move herself, right? Well, if I win, I’ll use the money to get a place for the both of us out there. What do you say?”
Dad doesn’t respond for so long that I wonder if he got up and left without me noticing. I’m about to reach out blindly and feel around when his recliner squeaks and two meaty arms wrap me in a bear hug.
“Is—” I cough into his shoulder. “Is that a yes?”
He lets go. My vision adjusts enough to make out that he’s smiling. I smile, too, relief washing over me.
“How could I say no?Myson. OnForest Feud.” He sniffles. “Wait, hold on, I have something for you.”
He hurries out and is back a few minutes later. Dad flicks on the light and I shield my eyes, blinking until they stop burning. But when I catch sight of the hideous, battered,neon-orangesuitcase he’s wheeled in, they start to hurt again.
“This is the exact suitcase I brought to the show. I want you to have it.”
Dad puts the handle of it in my palm and folds my fingers over it like it’s a treasured family heirloom. The handle is oily for some reason.
