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“Mmm. Touché, ma belle.”
Athelia sighs as we step up into the gazebo. “I adore my parents. They were some of my closest friends in high school—Mom especially. God, I know that sounds lame, but I love them.”
“But?” I prod.
“But they have their own set of expectations of who they want me to be. Of who they think I am. I’ll always cherish my relationships with them, but I don’t want to disappoint them. I’m not as traditional, not nearly as conservative, and not as risk-averse as they are. I understand they just want to make sure I’m safe and secure, but it can feel restrictive. Sometimes I feel like I’m disappointing them, you know?”
“I do.” Leaning against the railing of the gazebo, I draw Athelia into my arms. “My parents aren’t that strict—never were, really. They want me to do well, but they don’t much care what I do, as long as I’m happy. My grandparents try to put a lot of pressure on me, though. I think they see me as lazy. Wasted potential.”
She makes a sad sound before resting her head against my chest. “I’m sorry, Kellan.”
“It doesn’t bug me as much as it used to. I’m slowly building a life for myself, much like you are. Their opinions don’t matter to me the way they did when I was a kid.”
Athelia sighs. “Maybe I’ll get there one day with my parents.”
“Maybe so.”
We stand there for a few minutes in silence, which I don’t mind. With classes, studying, and work, it’s hard to get alone time with Athelia unless she’s sleeping with me for the night. I was hoping for a few moments like this over break, and I’m glad we’re getting one so early on.
“You want to know what I realized while looking at all those photos of you?” I ask after a few minutes.
“What?” She looks up at me and narrows her eyes. “If you’re going to make some joke about how awkward I was as a teenager, shut it.”
“No,” I murmur. “Nothing like that. It made me realize I was wrong about you.”
Nervousness flashes in her eyes. “Oh?”
“You were worried that Kammes changed you for the worse, and I said you were wrong—that you hadn’t changed.”
She goes stiff. “You disagree now?”
“Not entirely, but some. You’re definitely still you—you’ve got the same smile, the same laugh, the same taste in music. You still hate waking up early, and you’re still infuriatingly stubborn. But you’re different, too.”
Athelia’s gaze drops, and her voice is heavy as she says, “So I was right.”
“No. I don’t think you’ve changed for the worse, Thelia. I think you’ve changed for the better.”
But she shakes her head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does,” I tell her gently. “You have a lot of hurt to work through still—much of it caused by us, not him. But after hearing the stories your mom told, and after looking at all of the pictures of you… yeah. You’ve changed. You stand up for yourself more now. You’ve learned a lot. But you’re stillyou.”
“I don’t feel like myself.”
“I know,” I say gently, placing a bent knuckle under her chin and lifting so she’s looking at me. “But take it from someone with an outside perspective. Maybe Kammes changed you some, but you’re still foundationally the same person. And…”
“And what?” she whispers.
I smile. “I like who you’ve become.”
“You do?”
“Mmhmm. You’re growing up, Athelia. We all are. And you—well, you’re turning into a strong, independent woman who fights for what she wants and takes no shit.”
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, no, I definitely don’t feel that way.”
“Never said you’re all the way there yet.” I run my fingers through her hair. “But you’re getting there. Just look at where you were a month ago compared to now.”
She’s silent for a moment as she thinks. When she meets my gaze again, her eyes aren’t quite as sad as before. “I think you’re right. Iamfighting for what I want. And… maybe Kammes didn’t change me as much as I thought he did.”
