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I stumbled on the steps of the landing, trying to find a quieter spot with the music blaring from the house.
My dad scoffed. “Of course you are. I’ve spent a small fortune getting you into that school, and do you know what I found out today?”
“You won’t get a refund?”
“Oh, you think this is funny? You think wasting your time, wasting your potential, wasting my money, is amusing?”
I sighed, wishing I’d checked the screen before answering. The man was gonna kill my buzz.
“No, sir, it’s not funny.”
My phone buzzed again, and I pulled it away from my ear to see a text from Hudson.
Hudson: My room.
Instantly, my pulse kicked up. I didn’t need to be seen in his room alone, and especially not with a full house, but I couldn’t deny the temptation to get him alone. The amount of alcohol in my veins practically begged for it.
“Look, Dad, I’ll call you tomorrow—”
“Are you aware you’re failing one of your classes?”
I rolled my eyes. “Failing? That’s insane—”
“You are.”
“Should I ask how you know that?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s a good thing I found out. Failing is not an option, Drew. I know you’ve got your priorities twisted with partying and your social life, but if you fail, I don’t think you’re ready for the consequences that will have on your future.”
I’m sure you’re going to tell me,I thought before he did exactly that.
“Not only will you not have enough credits to graduate with your class, but your carelessness and lack of commitment tells me something very important. Not to mention it’s an embarrassment on me. On the company. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Not even drinking half my weight in alcohol could hide the implications of what my dad was getting at.
“No…you can’t do that.”
“It’s my company. I assure you I can. If you haven’t cared enough to take this seriously, I can’t trust E Group in your hands. Failing your class? Not graduating with your friends? Inexcusable.”
Fuck, this was bad. My whole career was centered on joining E Group and working my way up to eventually take over. There wasn’t a plan B.
Was I really failing? I knew I’d maybe slacked off a little with frat activities and wanting to spend every minute I could with Hudson, but it couldn’t be that bad, could it?
“I didn’t realize…” Gripping the back of my neck, I searched for somewhere to sit and dropped onto a patch of grass.
How did I let it get this bad? There had to be something I could do. Sweet-talk my professor? Do some extra credit?
“If I were you, son, I’d find a way to sober up and finish your final. Score well enough and you might be able to save your ass. If not…” He clucked his tongue, and I didn’t need him to say anything else.
I’d be fucked.
Wait, what final? I racked my inebriated brain to remember, and then it hit me. The ten-page literary analysis I hadn’t even started.
The one that was due in the morning.
Fuuuck.
“How could you let this happen?” my dad carried on. “Hudson has almost a perfect score in that class, and he has all the same responsibilities you do. Hell, he could fail the final and still be on top.”
