Rooted (Pagano Family #3)(78)
Jordan was uncharacteristically quiet. He had been most of his break, but as January began to age and it was time for him to pack up and head back to Orono, he was almost sullen—and that was not a mood his youngest son normally expressed. Theo got the sense, too, that Jordan was avoiding him, which was hard to do in a house of this size.
In the middle of the last week of break, a few days before both Theo and Jordan were set to return to their respective campuses, Theo sat in his office, creating PowerPoint slides for his first day of classes. He didn’t really like PowerPoint, but he’d found that students paid better attention if he gave them something interesting to look at while he talked—something more interesting than him. So he found images of the authors they would be reading and matched them with quotes that were funny or relevant in some way.
He was wasting time online, actually, when Jordan knocked on his door and then opened it a few inches. “Dad, do you have some time to talk?”
“Sure, kiddo. Come on in.” Theo noticed that Jordan looked a little pale—not sick, but not happy. “I hope this is you wanting to talk about why you’ve been down lately.”
Jordan sat on the old, floral sofa that had been cast off to Theo’s office years before. “Yes. Yes, I do. I’m not sure exactly how to say it, though.”
“Just say it, Jordan. The way you usually do. Bold.”
He sat up straight and primly and took a big breath. On the exhale he said, “I’m not going back to school.”
Theo closed his laptop at that. Before he could turn fully around again, Jordan added, “Wait—were you looking at cribs? Is there news?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“No—if there’s news about Carmen, that’s more important.”
“There’s no news. I haven’t spoken to her since Christmas.”
Jordan sighed theatrically. “You’re both stupid, just so you know.”
“Jordan, no. You came in here and dropped a bomb. You don’t get to change the subject. What do you mean you’re not going back to school?”
“I’m not. There’s no point. Why am I getting a degree in theater? Why am I doing stupid campus productions of Peer Gynt or whatever? Why am I not in New York, auditioning and getting roles that pay? They don’t care in New York if I have a degree! They only care if I can act and sing and dance—and I’m fantastic at all those things!”
“You thought all this out when you decided to go to college in the first place, Jordan. You decided the education would round out your experience and make you a better actor. You wanted the meaty roles and the variety from campus productions on your résumé. Aren’t you getting that?”
Jordan sighed and threw himself back to slouch on the sofa. “Yes, but…”
“Look. This is a choice you have to make for yourself. You’re twenty-one. You live your own consequences. You have a good head on your shoulders, so I trust you to use it. If this is the choice you want to make, then we’ll go up on the weekend and clear out your dorm room. But I’m surprised. You’ve loved college until now. Is there something else going on?”
Jordan looked down at his lap, and Theo knew there was something. “What is it, son?”
“I’m so tired of it, Dad. I’m just so tired of being The Fag. I’m tired of pretending like it doesn’t bother me. I want to live in Chelsea and be someplace where I’m normal. A state school in Maine is not a place where I’m normal.”
Both Eli and Jordan could have gone to Colson College, where Theo taught, for free, but they had both wanted to spread their wings and live away from home. Eli had done well in school and had played varsity football well enough to garner some regional news attention. He’d gotten a scholarship to a different private college with a fair football program. Jordan had spent his school years being fabulous and hanging out with the arts crowd, not studying. His academic success had been middling. With no scholarships forthcoming for him, his choices were his father’s college or the state university. He chose the big school, thinking that it would be easier to fit in or blend in with a larger student body. But he had never fit or blended well.
Still, this was the first Theo had heard of any major trouble Jordan was having at college because of who he was. “Has it been going on the whole time, or did something happen this fall?”
“Dad! It’s been going on my whole life! I don’t fit here. Maybe being in Europe for a few weeks made it more clear—maybe that’s why it sucks more now. But I’m so over it. Maine is too small for me. In more ways than one. I literally just cannot anymore.”
“Okay. But Chelsea isn’t exactly a cut-rate neighborhood. How are you going to afford it?”
“Chelsea is the dream. In the meantime, Eli and Rosa said I could stay with them in Brooklyn until I find a day job and maybe a sublet or a share or something.” He smirked. “Or a sugar daddy.”
Ignoring that last remark with a wry eyeroll, Theo asked, “You talked to Eli and Rosa, but not to me? Why not?”
He shrugged. “I thought you’d make your disappointed face. I hate your disappointed face.”
“If I’m disappointed, it’s not in you, Jordan. Never in you. I’m disappointed that the world is a hard place. People in general disappoint me.”