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"Dad," I start

"What?"

I can’t really look at hi uy He has that whole, y’know, boy-girl thing going"

"You’ve forgotten to take off your sunglasses"

"I haven’t forgotten" I take the a couple of tilory?"

"Well, I’ve been keeping tabs on you" He taps the folder ohts drift back to that conversation we had last su to school?"

"Oh shit, Dad," I groan "I went to Caraduated from Camden I don’t even knohat I majored in"

"Experimental Orchestra, as I recall," Dad says dryly

"Hey, don’t forget Design Analysis"

My father’s gritting his teeth, dying for a drink, his eyes roaetown, at Columbia, at NYU for Christ sakes It’s not as difficult as you ht think"

"Oh shit, Dad, have I ever used you?"

"I’m concerned about your career and-"

"You know, Dad," I interrupt, "the question that I always dreaded most at Horace Mann henever my counselor would ask me about my career plans"

"Why? Because you didn’t have any?"

"No Because I knew if I answered hi sent hoebra class"

"Dad, I’" I sit up alittle for e to hear if I have a part in Flatliners II"

"This is a movie?" he asks dubiously

"No-it’s a sandwich," I say, stunned

"I hs "Victor, you’re twenty-seven and you’re only a model?"

"Only a model?" I say, still stunned "Only a model? I’d rethink the way you phrased that, Dad"

"I’ that-"