Misdirected by Ali Berman

that?”
    â€œDad’s a talker.”
    â€œYeah. Well, we’ve been sneaking around and talking online. But we don’t get to talk about stuff in person very often and there are certain things you just don’t want to say online, you know?”
    â€œLike what?”
    â€œSo she’s Christian, but not crazy Christian like everyone else. I didn’t know how she felt about gay people. Then I made a comment about the Bible being homophobic and she thought I was calling her homophobic.”
    â€œDid you tell her you have a gay sister?”
    â€œI didn’t tell her until today cause I didn’t want to tell anyone until you had told Mom and Dad.”
    â€œWhile I appreciate your loyalty to me, here’s some advice. If you don’t know how she feels about something, ask her. If you think she’s trustworthy, then trust her. Otherwise you’re thinking for her and no one likes that.”
    â€œSo I should say I’m sorry?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThat’s what I thought. So how is married life?” I ask.
    â€œWe’re good. School is great. I love it here.”
    â€œYou’ll make it fun when I come visit, right?”
    â€œOf course. Although it’s probably when I’ll tell Mom and Dad. So I’m not sure how much fun they’re going to have.”
    â€œThey’ll be fine. Didn’t you just give me that whole speech about trusting people? Shouldn’t you trust them? I think they’ve earned it.”
    â€œIt’s just hard. I mean, I don’t want them to think about me getting it on with anyone, male or female, but when I tell them, that’s exactly what they’re going to think about. I don’t want them imagining me making out with my girl . . .”
    â€œStop talking! I don’t want to imagine it either, so just stop talking.”
    â€œSee! Totally embarrassing.”
    â€œSuck it up.”
    â€œI’ve got to go. Lots of reading to do for class tomorrow,” she says.
    â€œHave fun with that.”
    â€œWho doesn’t love Anne Carson? Of course I’ll have fun.”
    â€œWhoever that is. Later, Em.”
    Tess might not be signed into chat, but I bet she’s up in her room. I send her a text. I’m sorry about today. Can we meet tonight so I can explain? Please?
    Hopefully she’ll agree to see me.
    I look over at Margaret’s DVDs next to the bed. I haven’t been practicing much but I need to start. Otherwise, I’m going to look like a fool at the talent show. I’m really good at up-close magic, but in front of an audience? That’s a whole different set of illusions.
    I grab my fanning powder and give my cards a light fresh coat. Then I turn on the DVD to learn how the hell to do the kind of card manipulation that’s going to make people’s mouths fall open.
    I can do a few of the easier moves without too much trouble. Margaret taught me those in seventh grade. So I start with the harder stuff like Cardini’s cards, packet vanish and interlock production. I’ve seen Margaret do those but I haven’t worked on them so my hands are clumsy. Practice is the only way to sink this show. So that’s what I do.
    About an hour later I get a text. It’s Tess. I’ll see you at the shed at 11:30.
    A little cold but she’ll be there. I spend the next few hours watching McBride do things with cards I can only dream of. As I watch I write down a basic outline for which illusions I’m going to use for my performance. Then I start pounding away at them. It’s like doing layup drills during basketball practice. You’ve got to keep doing the same move if you’re going to get good at it. And I need to be great.
    At dinner I’m kind of quiet. When my parents ask me what’s wrong, I say nothing and keep eating my pasta. My mom sort of rolls her eyes and looks at my dad. They probably just think I’m being a