Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe (Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe #1)

by Benjamin Alire Sáenz

The problem with my life was that it was someone else’s idea.

I mean, guys really made me uncomfortable. I don’t know why, not exactly. I just, I don’t know, I just didn’t belong. I think it embarrassed the hell out of me that I was a guy.

But now, at fifteen, well, things are a little awkward. My voice is doing funny things and I keep running into things. My mom says my reflexes are trying to keep up with the fact that I’m growing so much.

So what if I don’t look exactly like an American. What does an American look like, anyway?

“I don’t think I’m so nice.” “Are you in a gang?” “No.” “Do you do drugs?” “No.” “Do you drink?” “I’d like to.” “Me too. But that wasn’t the question.” “No, I don’t drink.” “Do you have sex?” “Sex?” “Sex, Ari.” “No, never had sex, Dante. But I’d like to.” “Me too. See what I mean? We’re nice.” “Nice,” I said. “Shit.” “Shit,” he said. And then we busted out laughing.

“The genes I got from my mom and dad. And my luck, well, I don’t where that came from. God, maybe.” “You a religious guy?” “Not really. That would be my mom.” “Yeah, well, moms and God generally get along pretty well.”

God, I thought, the therapist has shown up. I just shrugged. I closed my eyes. Okay, I knew when I opened my eyes, they would still be there. Dante and I were cursed with parents who cared. Why couldn’t they just leave us alone? What ever happened to parents who were too busy or too selfish or just didn’t give a shit about what their sons did?

I don’t want to upset him, but I do. I always upset him. And other people too. I guess that’s what I do. And I upset you too. I know that. And I’m sorry. I’m doing the best I can, okay? So if I don’t write as many letters as you do, don’t be upset. I’m not doing it to upset you, okay? This is my problem. I want other people to tell me how they feel. But I’m not so sure I want to return the favor.

“I think you should confront your parents. You should just sit them down and make them tell you. Make them be adults.” “You can’t make anyone be an adult. Especially an adult.”

I don’t know, life isn’t logical, Ari.

“We don’t always make the right decisions, Ari. We do the best we can.”

Maybe the difference between being a boy and being a man is that boys couldn’t control the awful things they sometimes felt.

And loved my father too, for the careful way he spoke. I came to understand that my father was a careful man. To be careful with people and with words was a rare and beautiful thing.