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Chapter Seven
TEN YEARS AGO
——
Where are you?
I stare at the text message I sent Westin nearly two hours ago. It’s not like him to not text me back, or return my calls, which I’ve made several of over the course of the last few hours.
When I woke up this morning, I was happier than I had ever been. Memories of Westin and my night together swirled around me like colorful clouds, threatening to carry me from Earth.
Now, my happiness has morphed into panic.
Where is he?
Why isn’t he answering me?
I push my way through the front door of my house, feeling defeated and honestly, a bit worried. When I look up and see my father waiting for me in the formal living room, the feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach only grows.
“Scarlett.” I cringe at the sound of his voice.
“Yeah.” I step further into the room.
“We need to talk.” He gestures to the chair to his left. Begrudgingly, I take a seat. I can only imagine what he wants now.
“What’s up?” I try to keep my voice light.
“I received a call from your principal today. She told me you quit the debate team.” He crosses one leg over the other and waits for me to explain.
“Why would she call you?” I swallow past the knot in my throat.
While it’s true that I quit the team, I didn’t realize that warranted a phone call to my parents.
“Ms. Patterson and I go way back, as you know. We speak frequently in regard to your education.”
“It’s not a big deal,” I immediately start, only to be cut off.
“Actually, it’s a very big deal. Being part of the debate team not only looks good on college applications, but it’s good practice for when you get inside a courtroom. You can’t sell yourself short before you’ve even begun.”
“I have no plans of ever stepping foot inside a courtroom,” I tell him for what feels like the millionth time over the last year.
He simply refuses to accept that I don’t want to follow in his footsteps.
“You’re going to law school, young lady. It’s already been decided.”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“Do not argue with me. This isn’t up for discussion.”
“Actually, you don’t get a say,” I fire back. “When, and if, I go to college, I’ll be eighteen and the choice will be entirely mine and there isn’t anything you can do about it. Now, if that’s all you needed.” I push to a stand.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To see Westin.” I turn, heading toward the door.
“Hasn’t been returning your calls today, has he?” His words halt my steps.
Slowly, I turn back toward him.
