You Asked for Perfect(37)
*
Later that night, after all the guests have left, my family is collapsed in the living room. Dad snores in the armchair, too tired to make it upstairs. One of his slippers has fallen off.
“Oy gevalt, remind me to never host the High Holidays again,” Mom says, yawning. Her feet are propped up on a pillow on Rachel’s lap, and Rachel is massaging them for her.
“You say that every year,” I respond, while reading AP Gov notes off my phone. So far, thanks to the detailed presentations our teacher posts online, I haven’t had to open a textbook for the class, and I am so not complaining. “And then every year you say you’ll have a low-key dinner, and you won’t make a big fuss, and then you end up inviting the entire tribe, and we end up here, with your ten-year-old daughter rubbing your feet.”
“I don’t mind!” Rachel says. “I will always rub feet for matzo ball soup.”
I tap away from my notes and pull up my calendar. The Harvard application is looming closer, but at least I’m back on the right track. I’ll use my last day off school to practice for my violin solo, and I can also get ahead in my reading for Spanish lit.
“Thank you, mamaleh,” Mom says. “Ariel, did your friends enjoy the soup?”
“They always do,” I answer.
“What about Amir? Did he like the soup?”
I freeze. She knows. How does she know? “Um…”
“Amir’s mom mentioned he hadn’t tried it before. He had some tonight, right? Do you know if he liked it?”
“Oh,” I say, clearing my throat. “Yeah, he did. I mean, I think so. It’s your soup. Everyone likes it.”
“That’s good. And how long have you two been dating?”
Oh shit.
That was good.
“Um.”
“You’re dating Amir?” Rachel squeals.
“Well, we…how did you….”
“Mrs. Naeem and I always said you two would be cute together. Now when did this start? I noticed you talking at Rachel’s game. You know we support that you’re gay, right?”
I clear my throat. “Bisexual.”
“Yes, right! I’m sorry. That’s what I meant—I don’t care that you’re bisexual. I mean, I do care. In a good way.”
I give her a soft smile. “I know.”
My parents were pretty great when I came out in ninth grade. There was a lot of hugging and thankfully not a lot of questions. Mom took a while to understand the guys and girls part, which to be fair, took me a while to get myself. I know she’s trying, though, and I know Amir and I are ridiculously lucky to have parents who want their sons to date.
“So.” Mom nudges me. “How long have you two been going out?”
My face flushes, but I guess it’s better to rip off the Band-Aid. I should’ve known she’d figure it out sooner rather than later. “We’re not going out, but yeah, we’re talking or whatever…it’s new.” I rub my face. I’m so not prepared to define the relationship, much less with my mom instead of Amir. “Can we maybe leave it alone for now?”
Mom smiles. “Yes, yes we can. For now.” She sighs and settles back into the couch. “Rachel, could I bother you to grab the lotion from my bathroom?”
“That depends.” Rachel has a scheming look in her eye. “Can I bring leftover soup for lunch Wednesday? My teacher will let me use the microwave!”
“Deal,” Mom says.
My phone buzzes as they shake hands. It’s a text from Amir. Warning: the parents know
I laugh. Yep. That didn’t take long. We’re great at secrets
He responds: Basically, we should be secret agents
It only makes sense
“That Amir?” Mom asks in time for me to realize I have the most ridiculous smile on my face.
“Mom,” I groan.
She laughs and extends her foot to nudge my leg. “Love you, tatala.”
“Love you, too,” I mutter, cheeks red, still smiling.
Eleven
Wednesday morning rushes by in a blur of catch-up assignments. I always ask my teachers to provide the work ahead of time, but few prepare to help the handful of Jewish students in their classes. By the time I get to English, I know it’s going to require a late night to get all of it done. And my family is going to Amir’s house for dinner, so I won’t even get started until after eight. At least I’ll see Amir. Maybe we’ll have time to sneak off for a few minutes.
Sook is bubbling over as I slide into my seat. “Guess what?” she asks.
“One of your YouTube videos went viral, and you’re going to be whisked off to LA tomorrow.”
“If only,” she says. “But you know my new great friend Clarissa?”
“You mean your Tumblr mutual?”
She waves her hand. “Same thing. Anyways, she liked my post about the gig we’re playing and then said”—Sook reads from her phone—“‘Sounds cool. I’ll be in town. See you there.’ Can you believe it? Clarissa! Clarissa of Carousels! At our show!”
We have a gig coming up at a café known for its live music. It’s a small spot, but they always feature great new bands, so it’s pretty awesome they asked Dizzy Daisies to play. Sook said talent agents are even rumored to drop by sometimes.