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No, they haven’t. They each already have a glass of wine in their hands, and there are two empty bottles on the counter. Judging by the flush in Kora’s cheeks, that isn’t her first glass. And Mya’s gaze seems a little hazy as she stares at me with a welcoming smile.
“How’s the ankle?” Mya asks as she pulls me in for a hug.
“Better. I’m still taking it easy and wearing sneakers though.”
“What’d you do to your ankle?” Kora asks as she pushes Mya out of the way and embraces me.
“I slipped on the back steps when I was loading my car and scraping snow off my windows. Twisted it pretty good. Had to rest it for a few days, that’s all.”
Sharing a look with Mya, I hope she reads into my silent plea. The slight nod of her head tells me she understands completely. The sinister smirk she’s sporting, though … well, I’m going to have to come clean with her about everything. She’s not going to let me off easy either.
With a bottle of wine in each hand, Kora leads the way into the living room. We spend the next few hours chatting and catching up on the holidays. I hold back most of my story, not wanting to relive the past few days but also not wanting to bring the mood down.
Mya has nodded off twice, and Kora is yawning uncontrollably by the time we all head up to our respective rooms, Gia following me into mine.
“So what happened?” she asks as she closes my door behind her.
“I was honest with them, and they cut me off. Took away my credit card, shut off my phone, and threatened to do more if I didn’t bow to their demands.”
“What demands?”
Taking a seat on the edge of my bed, Gia slides up next to me and wraps her arm around my shoulder.
“The big gift they were raving about was a job. Working for my father. My own office. Right next to his. A fancy title. Great salary. And I couldn’t accept it. Not only because I don’t want it, but because it would require me to have a degree in graphic design. The degree they thought I was working toward. That’s what they planned for me.”
“But you changed your major years ago.”
“And I never told them.”
Gia let’s out a sigh as she rests her head on my shoulder, and I lean into her embrace. “What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. They can be mad; they can cut me off. I won’t have money coming in anymore, but I still have my trust fund. They can’t touch that now that I’m twenty-one. I’ll live off that until graduation, and then I’ll find a job that makes me happy.”
“I’m proud of you; you know that?”
“You shouldn’t be. I’ve been lying to them for years. That’s nothing to be proud of.”
Gia moves so quickly I almost tip over from the loss of her body next to mine. Catching my balance, I look up at my best friend who has her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face.
“I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. For going after what you want, what makes you happy. You’re livingyourlife, not the life they want for you. Sure, you lied to them, but only because you knew this would happen if you were honest.”
“That doesn’t make it okay that I lied.”
“No, but you did it for the right reason. Self-preservation. You put yourself and your needs first. You shouldn’t feel bad about what went down, Scar. They are the ones in the wrong right now. They’re the ones who should feel like shit for treating you the way they have, for trying to run your life. And one day they’ll come crawling back, begging for forgiveness.”
No, they won’t. But I don’t tell her that. There’s no use arguing a moot point.
My parents never admit fault. They don’t apologize.
What they will do is try to sweep the conflict under the rug after a while. Act like it never happened by sending me a new credit card in the mail or something.
And they’ll expect me to call and apologize for my role in all of it. Though, they will never reciprocate the words.
“What did you want to ask me about?”
I attempt to change the subject, but Gia brushes me off.
“It’s not important. I already figured it out anyway.”
