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“A few days before Christmas,” he says with a grunt.
What?
My tongue darts out to moisten parched lips as I swing around and stalk the length of my room. Even though I try to keep my voice level, it continues to escalate. “But that was weeks ago. I was home during the entire break, and you never said a word.”
In hindsight, I realize that he was absent most of the time, locked away in his home office. When he wasn’t there, he was preoccupied and grumpy. I didn’t think much about it because the holidays are always difficult.
Why would this one be any different?
“I spoke with my lawyer, hoping to overturn the decision or force him out on his ass instead, but there’s nothing I can do. The sneaky bastard went behind my back and turned everyone against me.” His voice rises with each word he spits out until I have to hold the phone away from my ear. “After everything that family has taken from us, he does something like this!”
Now doesn’t seem like the appropriate time to mention that he attempted to do the very same thing a few years ago. Their once-close relationship became tenuous after the accident and then downright hostile when Dad tried to force him out.
It was only a matter of time before everything exploded. This development shouldn’t come as a surprise.
Guess I was hoping not to be collateral damage in the inevitable fallout.
“I’m sorry, Fallyn.” His voice empties of anger, turning weary. “There’s not enough money in the account to pay your tuition this semester. Your mother and I were just discussing the situation, and we’ve come up with a solution.”
Air gets clogged in my lungs.
I’m almost afraid to hear what it is.
“You’ll take this semester off, move back home, and get a job. I’m sure one of my acquaintances from the country club will hire you as an assistant. Between that and financial aid, you could start back in the fall.” His voice fills with false buoyancy. “Or maybe you could transfer to the local college here and take a class or two this semester. We could probably scrape enough together for that. You could stay at the house. That would be quite a money saver.”
Even though he can’t see it, I shake my head.
No way.
There’s no way I can move back home.
Getting out the first time was difficult enough. It took a lot of coaxing, not to mention a few tantrums that I’m not proud of, for them to relent enough for me to go away to college.
This specific college.
There’s no way I can backpedal now.
When I remain silent, he says with forced jovialness, “Wouldn’t that be fun? Your mother misses you terribly.”
A shiver of dread scampers down my spine before pooling in my belly. It’s quickly chased by guilt. I love my parents, but after the accident, their attention was unbearable.
Suffocating.
Smothering.
They were so afraid that something would happen to me.
Just like?—
“Fallyn?”
I shove those thoughts away and focus on the conversation at hand. It takes effort to keep my voice level so that he doesn’t realize how much I’m freaking out. “I have an appointment to speak with someone in student services tomorrow afternoon. Maybe there’s something they can do to help. I’m midway through my junior year. The last thing I want to do is drop out or transfer.”
That thought is like a sucker punch to the gut.
“I never said drop out,” he cuts in hastily. “At the most, it would be a short break to regroup. That’s all.”
Right. How many people say exactly that and then never end up going back to school? Life gets in the way, making it impossible. I refuse to become a statistic. No matter what I have to do, I’ll find a way to stay at Western.
