Blake
“Ijust don’t understand. Why would you throw away a partial scholarship at a much better college to come here?” Now you’re tens of thousands of dollars in student loan debt to go to a worse school. All because you couldn’t get over some silly breakup.”
Briar’s mom’s voice carries through the whole house. Everyone stops talking and goes quiet.
“You won’t even be able to study abroad. All through high school, all you could talk about was studying abroad in Mexico or France,” her mom says. “You had the perfect opportunity to do it in Chicago, but now that you transferred, it’s too late.”
“Mom, I told you. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“Do you know how long it took your father and me to save money to send you to college in Chicago?”
“Yes, Mom. You take every opportunity to remind me.”
“Briar, don’t raise your voice to your mother. It’s disrespectful.”
“Oh, but she can raise her voice to me?” Briar’s voice trembles. She’s trying not to cry.
“I don’t understand you, Briar. You’re a smart girl, but you did something so stupid.”
Protectiveness surges through me. Her parents are ganging up on her. Her dad even said they weren’t going to pick a fight with her, but that’s exactly what they’re doing.
I march into the kitchen. When I see Briar standing there, her eyes watery with unshed tears, her lips quivering, that protective feeling sharpens.
I step over to her, grabbing her hand in mine. I look at her parents. “Don’t talk to her like that.”
They both lean back, clearly surprised at what I’ve said.
“Excuse me?” Rachel says.
“I said don’t talk to Briar like that,” I say, my tone hard and firm.
“Blake, son, this isn’t any of your business,” Henry says.
“It is my business. I care about Briar. I know what a good person she is. She doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like this by her own parents.”
Her mom stammers, clearly stunned at what I’ve said.
“Mr. and Mrs. Bennett, I like you. You’ve always been kind to me. But I’m not just going to stand there and let you berate your daughter,” I say. “That’s fine if you’re upset or disappointed that she left Chicago to come here. But you don’t get to talk to her like that. Not in front of me.”
Briar’s sniffles and wipes her face. Her eyes are big as she gazes up at me for a long moment.
“She’s thriving here at Hollis. Did you even notice that? Have you asked her about what her life is like here?”
Her mom crosses her arms, still looking angry.
“Briar is smart and hardworking. She’s capable of figuring out her life. You guys should give her the space to do that instead of taking every opportunity to criticize her.”
A tense silence stretches between us.
“You should go,” she says to her parents.
They look at her for a long moment, saying nothing. They walk out of the kitchen and out of the house without another word to anyone.
The front door shuts. The house is still quiet.
I wrap my arms around Briar and kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay,” I whisper.
She sniffles and leans up to look at me. “Thank you.”
