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CHAPTERONE
Faye
“I feel like a failure,” I say, lying back on Lola’s bed and staring up at the ceiling.
Lola sighs from the other side of the room. She’s sitting on her computer chair. I know she’s leaning forward, probably staring pretty hard at me.
I know she wants me to stop being so self-pitying.
“It’s not fair for me to sulk,” I say, forcing myself to sit up. “I don’t have any debt from the one semester I took. Most people would kill for a stepdad who’d take care of that.”
Lola frowns. “There’s more to life than money, Faye. I think most people would prefer a parent who didn’t run away when things got tough.”
Coming from anybody else, this might seem cruel.
But I’ve known Lola since we were six years old, before mom died, leaving me only with Marcus… Marcus, who, when I turned eighteen, decided he’d rather live on the West Coast with his new girlfriend.
I guess this seems fair, but it left me with a problem. I didn’t want to leave the East Coast or leave Lola.
Or Felix, a voice whispers.
I push that way, way down.
I refuse to let my old crush resurface, let myself start thinking about Lola’s dad. He’s got these muscled arms, silver hair, and intense pale green eyes with that mixture of barbarian and artist thing going on.
“I know,” I sigh, smiling at Lola.
She smooths a strand of her dyed blonde into place. She’s got a lean build, her wrists covered in countless bracelets, giving her a punk look.
On the laptop behind her, a Word document shows the title of her essay.
The History of Biology and the Human Body, with Focus on the Development Cycle of Reproduction.
“At least one of us didn’t quit,” I murmur.
Lola wheels herself forward on her chair, giving me one of those looks. She’s often looked at me like that. All through school, and even on the day I left for college.
“Business management was never for you,” Lola says. “I don’t want to say I told you so.”
“But you did. I know. I just wanted to take the chance when it was offered. I wish Marcus had offered to pay for a photography course. But he hates art, anything that doesn’t have a clear path to a career. It’s a banker thing, maybe. But I’m still grateful.”
I’m speaking quickly, my heart beating too fast.
It’s like the word photographer makes me think of her dad, Felix, who’s returning to the city after six months away in Europe, where he was working on a project. I was eighteen when he left, still with my braces on my teeth, but I turned nineteen two months ago.
As if that will make a difference.
I seriously need to stop, not let myself think about this, about him.
I was supposed to have let this crush go a long time ago.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” Lola says. “I know you’re not a brat. Don’t worry.”
I laugh. “I’m officially not a brat now. Or, at least, maybe I’m only a little bit of one. Marcus said he’s going to cut my monthly allowance by two-thirds until I return to college.”
“Woah,” Lola says. “So, what are you going to do?”
I shake my head. “I can’t go back there. It’s a good course. The lecturers were great. But I felt like a freaking round shape trying to be wedged into a square hole. I’m going to get a job. Waitressing, a factory, maybe. Anything I can get, and then I’ll try to work on my photography stuff on the side.”
