AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No! I’m being serious,” I continued, finding my voice again. “He slapped her ass hard enough to leave a mark, and then he grabbed her. Tate has already been through hell before, so I wasn’t about to sit back and allow him to put her right back there because he thinks he can do anything he likes and get away with it.”
Dad’s tension-filled shoulders finally loosened, falling from around his ears and settling back into their normal position. “While it’s commendable for you to want to stand up for your friend, it’s not your job or duty to be Tate’s protector.”
My hands sat in my lap, my fingers twisting, turning, and interlocking as I attempted to keep my wits about me and not completely lose it. “He was hurting her?—”
“We didn’t raise you to be violent, Stella,” Mom cut in, circling the island to stand beside Dad, pressing her hand to his back in support. “You could have used your words.”
“You mean like I’m trying to do right now?” I threw back, climbing off the barstool I was sitting on and slamming my laptop closed. “If you haven’t noticed, Mom, I stopped using my words with the two of you long ago because it seemed like no matter what I said, you never heard them.”
The shock on their faces was almost comical.
For a long time, I’d been the good girl.
I may not have been born with the brains they would have liked, but I’d always been caring, honest, and respectful. I’d embraced values I’d hoped they would be proud of, putting hard work and determination above everything else, which was why Tate was really the only good friend I had left.
The rest got sick and tired of me canceling on them all the time because I had to study or I wanted to spend a few extra hours at the gym trying to get my tumble right before a big competition. I’d only recently started taking more time for myself now that the school year was ending and all my college applications had been sent off. That time was now either spent with Tate or Jaxon because they were the two people in this world who had stuck with me.
Jaxon and I had been dating for a little over six months, and during that time, he’d been the one on the sidelines at games and competitions, watching me cheer when my parents got caught up at work. He’d been the one who quizzed me the night before a test and invited me over to his place for a home-cooked dinner with his family because I’d been living on ramen and pizza for days.
My parents would swear black and blue that they were working so hard to provide for me and send me to the best school so I could have the best chance at a future.
What they’d never admit was that they were failing.
Miserably.
In fact, I was surprised they weren’t already ranting and raving about how the situation today was a result of me spending so much time around Jaxon and his ‘criminal family.’
“Look,” Dad started after taking a couple of breaths. “I know your mom and I have been busy recently, but?—”
“Recently!” I all but screamed. “You’ve been busy my entire life!”
Dad gritted his teeth, my words obviously hitting their mark. “But that does not excuse your behavior today. Like Mom said, we didn’t raise you to be violent. I can’t help but think maybe all this time you’re spending with Jaxon is causing more problems than we thought.”
Looks like I spoke too soon.
There it was.
Deflection.
Excuses.
The inability to see their own mistakes.
“Or maybe, just maybe, I’ve spent my entire life just trying to earn a little bit of attention from the both of you,” I started, fighting back the tears. “And now I actually have someone giving me everything I’ve always craved, I don’t feel like I need to keep my mouth shut and swallow my words anymore to try and keep the two of you happy.”
The fountain of words poured from my mouth.
There was no stopping them.
Today, I seemed to be running on a cocktail of fury and finality.
There was no more messing around.
Whether the answer was me going to Chicago in less than two weeks or staying here in Athens—one thing I knew for sure was that I would be leaving this house.
“Our jobs are important, Stella,” my mom tried to reason, though I could see she was getting frustrated, her hand resting supportively on Dad’s back, now grasping tightly to his arm. “How do you think we can afford a house over your head? The clothes on your back? The car you drive? How do you think you got accepted to the University of Chicago?”
My mouth dropped open, and the world stopped. “How did you know I got accepted to Chicago?” I whispered, though every syllable was enunciated with the sharpness of a butcher knife, and by the way my mother’s eyes grew wide like dinner plates, you would have thought I had it pressed against her neck.
