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“And I stand by it to this day,” he proclaimed, earning an eyeroll from me.
“Not to be that person, Dad, but this semester’s tuition is due in a week, and my credit card isn’t working,” I said, holding up the platinum card as evidence. “Usually, the money would be in the account by now. You didn’t send a check in the mail, did you?”
Sighing echoed through the phone, and I braced myself for impact. Tears welled in my eyes when I overheard him tell Celine he had to take the call in his office.
“Hey, Pumpkin. You know I love you, right?”
I swallowed roughly, burying my emotions. “Yep.”
“Daddy got himself in a little bit of a financial bind.”
What’s new?
“A financial bind? What does that mean?” I wasn’t stupid. I knew exactly what he meant, but my brain was still trying to process that I was royally screwed.
He’s gambling again.
“It means… it means I won’t be able to pay your tuition this semester,” he confessed. My heart stuttered in my chest, and it took me a moment to find the words I wanted to say to him.
“And my card?”
He glanced away from the screen, staring off into the distance before returning his focus. “It’s maxed out, baby.”
“Well, now I know why you’ve been ducking my calls. How long?”
“What?”
“How long have you known you couldn’t pay my tuition?”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks, huh?” I said in disbelief. “So, you’re telling me you used my tuition money to turn Celine into Botox Barbie?”
“You’re sounding a little entitled, honey.”
“You might be able to gaslight your girlfriends and get away with it, but you’re not doing it with me. This isn’t about me being entitled. This is about you being accountable. You’ve been paying my tuition like clockwork for the past three years, so naturally, I’d assume you’d continue to pay since we didn’t have a conversation stating otherwise. If you didn’t have the money, then the proper thing would’ve been to inform me as soon as you found out so I could figure out a Plan B. At this rate, I don’t even have enough time to apply and receive financial aid. I’ll have to drop my courses if I can’t figure something out. Jesus, Dad! You could’ve put Celine’s titties on layaway or something!”
Monica popped her head into my bedroom and mouthed, “Titties on layaway? What the fuck?”
I snorted as I attempted to calm myself.
“Baby… I’m sorry, and you’re right about everything. It’s just… a lot of things happened at once, and I had to pay back some debts, and—”
“And you prioritized your girlfriend’s plastic surgery over your daughter’s education and livelihood. I get it. I understand completely. Oh, and no shade to Celine, by the way. My problem isn’t with her; it’s with you. I have to get off now and go apply at a strip club or something,” I spat before hanging up the phone.
I’d barely hung up when I felt something cold nudge my shoulder, and I had never been more grateful to see an ice-cold beer in my life. “Thanks,” I muttered.
“You want to talk about it?” she asked as we cracked open our cans. She plopped down on my bed and curled up with my pink body pillow.
“After I have one or five of these.”
“If you’re looking to get shit-faced, that’s all you had to say.”
***
“Oh, God, that burned,” I complained after slamming back my shot of Jack.
“What are you whining for? You’d think you’d be used to this by now.”
