Page 54 of Reggie and Delilah's Year of Falling

Dad opens the door halfway and takes a tentative step in. “Just wanted to let you know that we’re probably going to head out soon.” His face cracks into a smile, and he gestures toward the front of the house. “Well, soon as in: your mom is doing her last check of everything packed in the car. But you know that means there’s probably going to be at least one more recheck.”

“So like, ten minutes?”

“Yeah, give or take a few more ‘just in case’ additions.” Heshakes his head. “I was trying to move things along, but she wasn’t having any of that.”

As if on cue, my mom’s high voice carries in from the other room. “Winston, have you seen the extra cooler? I want to bring some more water bottles and ice just in case.”

Dad holds his finger up and smirks, likeSee?and we both crack up, our identical laughs blending together.

“Well, I better get to it. Even though we’re about to have enough water to send everyone at the barbecue home with a lifetime supply.” He backs up toward the door. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Sounded like you were, uh, talking to somebody...”

I definitely can’t tell him that the only “somebodies” I’m talking to are the D&D fans on the internet who might eventually read this essay I was in the middle of writing. I’m not trying to deal with the squinty-eyed stare that would earn.

“I was just getting some thoughts down,” I say, hoping he won’t ask any follow-up questions. I hold up my phone quickly, flashing him the screen. “You know that transcribing app that I use? It’s faster for me, so I don’t forget what I want to say.”

He nods, crossing his arms over the grass-green polo he’s wearing. “Oh yeah, that’s what Ms. Thompson brought up back at your IEP meeting. I guess I’ve just never realized that you use it outside of school, too. That and the other one. The text-to... to—”

“Text-to-speech,” I finish for him.

He snaps and then points at me. “Yeah, that’s right. Text-to-speech. She was saying you should try not using them? To practice, right? You, uh... think you want to try that?”

Whatever face I make must give away how I feel about that suggestion. “Afterthe summer, I mean,” he corrects. “When your senior year starts.”

I sigh. Do I want to get into all this right now? I know I’m not about to phase out anything—knew it as soon as Ms. Thompson introduced that idea like it was the next natural step. And I successfully brushed off her hints to go without my apps in the resource room for the rest of the semester, totally taking advantage of the fact that she’s got a lot of other students to help. But I’ve never actually told her, or anyone, the reason why.

“Why should I give them up if they make things easier for me?” The question is out before I’ve fully decided if this is the right time for this conversation—or if my dad is the right person. My pits immediately start sweating, as if they’ve already recognized before my brain that I’ve made a terrible mistake.

Dad doesn’t frown or squint his eyes at me, though. He leans in and claps a hand on my shoulder, which nearly knocks me over in surprise. And his words are even more surprising. “I get that. You know better than anyone what’s best for you, son.”

I fight the urge to pinch myself and make sure this isn’t some lucid-dreaming shit. Did he really just say that? I can’t remember the last time my dad didn’t approach me with concern, or at the very least confusion.

If this is a dream, though, it’s a good one. “Thank you.” He nods once and then squeezes my shoulder.

“Winston, did you hear me?” Mom says, barging into my room and interrupting whatever father-son bonding moment was justgoing down. “Can you carry a couple more cases of water for me to the trunk? I’m only waiting on that, and then I’m ready to go.”

“Yep.” He laughs and kisses her on the cheek. “You wanna help me with that, Reggie?”

“Sure.” I take out my other AirPod and go to put the case in my pocket, which makes Mom look me up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t need those where we’re going,” she says, already shaking her head. “You can talk to your family, Reginald. You only see some of them once a year!”

And that’s exactly why Idoneed my AirPods. Because the cousin I usually chill with, the only one Iliketalking to, Lenore, bailed to travel with her boyfriend this summer.

“It’s just a podcast. For the car,” I say.

“Mm-hmm.” Mom looks me up and down. We both know I’m definitely planning to use my AirPods to dodge all the aunties and uncles I don’t want to make awkward small talk with, too. “Now get a move on, you two! We’re going to be late.”

She swishes away, passing Eric, who takes her place in my doorway.

“You talking ’bout that dorky dragons podcast? The one about rolling?” He throws his head back, cackling.

So apparently everyone but me got the memo that my room is the new family meeting spot. And what is he talking about...

“You left out your laptop,” he explains. “I was trying to find the senior highlights video Coach Diaz posted on YouTube, and this video of all these white guys pretending to be elves and talkingall funny started playing. I didn’t realize you spent, like, hours watching people sit around and play this game, too. I mean, bro!” He snorts out another laugh, making it clear what he thinks about that.

And Dad seems to be on the same page as him. The squinty-eyed look has arrived, and it’s paired with a wrinkled nose, like he smells something funky. My whole body burns, and I can’t tell if it’s shame or anger. Probably both.

“That’s enough, Eric,” Dad says, his voice stern, and Eric’s laughter immediately stops, like someone hit the mute button. Dad turns to me and nods to the AirPods that are still in my hand. “But you should listen to your mom, Reggie. Talk to the family.”

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