‘Yeah, a rowdy bunch of teenagers,’ I grumble. ‘She said it’s part of her work for the council.’
‘And she said she was looking for an assistant coach …’ Deen raises an eyebrow at me, and even though he doesn’t say it outright, I know what he means.
‘No. No way,’ I say.
‘Why not? You were her star football player, if I remember correctly,’ Deen says.
‘Yeah, an entire lifetime ago. And it’s not like it led anywhere …’ I almost think back to those days.
Toher.
I shake my head, clearing my mind of those thoughts. ‘That was my past, and in case you don’t remember, I didn’t exactly have success in football. So, why would I be a good coach? All I can teach those girls is failure.’
‘That’s dramatic,’ Deen mumbles, before turning to me with a determined look in his eyes. ‘You didn’t fail, Dina. Plus, having someone who has life experience as a coach can be good. I mean, it’s not like Jen was a mega-successful football star. Did that make her any less important to you as a mentor?’
When Deen puts it like that, it almost makes sense. But no, there is no way I am going to go back to football. Not after it chewed me up and spat me out.
‘I’m not doing it. She would have tried to convince me to take the job if she wanted me, but she didn’t, so obviously she doesn’t think I’m good enough either.’
‘Or … she remembers what happened and she didn’t want to ask outright in case you were still sensitive about it,’ Deen points out. ‘Which, in case you were wondering, you are.’
‘I’m not sensitive about it,’ I say darkly, which probably isn’t helping prove my point. Maybe Iama little sensitive about it, but I’ve earned the right to be.
‘Look, Dina. Dreams die in our family. Ma’s dreams of being an actress failed. Baba’s dreams of this restaurant died with him. But you still have time to make something of your dreams,’ Deen says. And I realise that he’s being extremely serious about all of this from the way he holds my gaze. He really thinks that, somehow,I’mthe member of our family who can go out there and achieve my dreams; end our cycle of settling for a life that we’re ultimately unhappy with.
‘What about you?’ I ask.
‘Me?’ Deen asks, as if he has never even factored himself into this equation.
‘What about your dreams of the restaurant? The new menu? The new decorations? Sprucing it up, bringing in new customers? Really doing the cooking thing?’
‘That was just … talk.’ Deen waves his hand dismissively.
‘You talk to Ma about the menu, and … maybe I’ll apply for the coach position.’ I shrug, going back to clearing the tables. I expect that to be the end of the matter, because there is no way that Deen will actually brave that conversation with our mother.
‘You know those two things are not the same,’ Deen says after a moment. ‘But … I’ll consider talking to her.’ I stop mid-cleaning and turn to Deen.
‘Seriously?’
Deen shrugs, acting as if the idea of talking to Ma is not a big deal, and not something he’s been avoiding for months and months now.
I stand up straight, looking Deen square in the eye. He seems sincere in his intentions. Maybe hewillseriously think about it. Maybe he’ll actually do it.
But knowing Deen, and knowing our family, I don’t have much hope.
‘OK. Then I’ll think about applying to be a coach,’ I say.
Deen’s face breaks out into a grin. He knows this is the most he can hope for, and I know that it most likely won’t amount to anything.
But at least the two of us are happy living in our denial.
Chapter 2
Maya
The dinner table is almost completely silent, save for the sound of chewing and the occasional scrape of cutlery. When I look up from staring down at my plate, I realise that Amma and Abba are exchanging meaningful glances between each other, like they’re having a silent conversation.
Probably one that’s about me.
