The Guy on the Left (The Underdogs 2)

“I’m sure you’ll know when you hear it.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“And your dad?”

“He was…” she twists her lips, “well, he existed in a universe of his own where the party never ended, and champagne and women flowed like water. He was a producer out in Hollywood, where he met my mother. She was going to be his next big star before she died. And when she did, he took a job in Austin as a promotor. I think his intention was to settle down and give us a more stable life. I guess you can take the guy out of Hollywood…” she sighs. “Anyway, I moved here to attend Grand and never left.”

“Did you have plans to leave after you graduated?”

She shrugs, and I can see in her eyes, our discussion is over.

Guilty, I lift a pile of Dante’s laundry in question.

“Second drawer from the top of his dresser.”

Walking down the hall toward his bedroom, I freeze when I hear his voice sound on the other side.

“Yo, what’s up, guys. Today for the first time on Legit Life, I’m going to answer all my comments. That’s right, haters, get ready.”

Freezing, I stand outside his door with a handful of his clothes as Clarissa runs into my back.

“Did you hear that?” I whisper.

I glance back to see her hand over her mouth to muffle her laugh, her eyes wide. Dante speaks up again.

“Let’s do this, so the first comment is from DeanBohanon700 of Rip audio. ‘I’m confused on what happened to the mailman.’ I know, buddy, I know. It was ridiculous. He got struck for nothing.”

I turn to Clarissa. “Do you have any idea what he’s saying?”

She shakes her head with a smile. “No clue. Techie stuff?”

I shrug.

Dante’s voice interrupts our confusion. “Okay, there’s another comment on the same video. LawrenceOppen243 says ‘ye.’ Uh, okay, dude. Ye, to you too.”

Clarissa grips the back of my shirt, leaning in.

“This one is on my video about my new merch. Comment says, ‘I ordered.’ Liar, I never got email confirmation. The next comment is, ‘I love Legit Life videos.’ Thanks for the support, bud.”

Clarissa is in hysterics at my back, her laundry dropped at my feet while I shush her.

“This next comment is for the kid who says I should use iMovie. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, kids, I’m never going to use iMovie, not in my lifetime.”

Clarissa’s still muffling her laugh in my back as I try to hold in my own.

“Okay, some kid said my sniffing during my video was disgusting. Hey bro, that shirt you were wearing on your video was disgusting. Burrrrn. So, guys, if you don’t like my videos get off my channel.”

Clarissa hums along with her music at the stove while I chop vegetables at the table, watching Dante while he plays in the yard with his drone. It’s been the perfect Sunday and more than I could have hoped for. Dante and I watched all three Spiderman movies back to back while Clarissa stretched out in her recliner grading papers. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, being such a present part of their lives, and I hate the fact that I’m about to have to leave. And when I do, I’ll once again be watching from afar in my bedroom when she tucks him in tonight.

But I’ll take what I can get. I’ll toe the line. I’ll do whatever it takes.

The holidays are coming up, Thanksgiving mere days away, and it’s time to talk about how that’s going to go down. I lift the cutting board full of vegetables, hauling them into the kitchen ready to finally broach the subject when I hear Dante call from the porch.

“Who are you?”

“Dante,” Clarissa groans, turning the heat down on the stove. “This kid is the neighborhood watch.” We share a grin as she crosses the living room to get to where Dante stands at the door.

My whole body tenses when I hear the reply.