He shakes his head. ‘You really don’t. People like you.’
‘You’ve rarely seen me outside my back garden, how would you know?’
‘Because you’re magnetic,’ he says, looking very seriously at me.
My heart feels like it’s jumping out of my chest. I don’t know how to respond.
‘Anyway,’ says Ty, looking ahead. ‘As I said, I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
‘Like what?’ I ask.
‘My parents . . . have a lot of expectations.’
‘Is this about your dad again? About how he wants you to go to America?’
‘It’s more he . . . he just wants me to be successful.’ Ty is still not looking at me, only at the horizon.
‘Isn’t that what all parents want for their kids?’
‘Yes, but my dad has a very rigid definition of success.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘He thinks being successful is having a lot of money, being in charge, being powerful.’ He pauses. ‘You can see some of that thinking in Daze. His disregard for authority is him trying to look powerful.’
‘You don’t think it’s a good idea?’
‘I don’t know, it’s such a part of who he is. Because he was raised like this, because we were raised like this . . . How can we separate ourselves from the people our parents shaped us into?’
‘And what did your dad shape you into?’
‘My dad made me become this person who needs validation. Everything I do, I need to feel like I’ve done a good job. Even with my photography, I want to get so good at it I can enter competitions, rather than do it for the sake of doing it.’
‘I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wanting to be good at things,’ I say. ‘I’m pretty easy-going, but I want to feel like I’m doing well. It’s why I feel so self-conscious sometimes. That I’m not good enough.’ My voice cracks at the last line. I stare firmly ahead.
‘I guess that makes both of us. No matter what I do I can’t please him. I told him I was going to apply to US universities, but he wasn’t happy I’m not applying to The Ivies. Wasn’t happy I want to take photographs instead of study the stock market with him. Not happy I don’t care about golf or cars or any of the things he cared about at seventeen.’
‘Your dad was into golf at seventeen?’
‘Yeah, his dad took him. And he tried taking me as a kid but all I did was complain about how heavy the clubs were and how I couldn’t hit it far enough. Daze at least likes basketball.’
‘You think Daze is living up more to what your dad wants?’
Ty laughs. ‘Which is weird, because his attitude drives Dad mad. Eternally optimistic, defies authority, cares so little about school. He’s doing it his own way.’
‘And what would doing it your way look like?’
‘Taking my time to work out what I really want, not what he expects.’
‘To go to university in the UK?’
‘Yeah, and more than that. I told you I want to study Chemistry. And if my dad had it his way, I’d be doing Business or Economics. He says he doesn’t see a future in being a chemist, but that’s not the point. I don’t need to have figured out what I want to do with my life at eighteen.’
It feels like he’s mind-read me. ‘I get that. I feel so anxious having to even pick what I want to do in the future. Do you know which universities you want to apply to yet?’
‘I’m actually going to drive up and take a look around Liverpool on the first of November,’ he says. ‘Get out of London for a bit. Have you looked anywhere?’
‘No, I think I want to stay in London but haven’t decided yet. Like most things.’ I pause. ‘Wait, did you say you’re going to Liverpool for the first of November? That’s near Manchester, right?’
