“Just living situations and life,” Sanders said. “Anyway, good party tonight.”
I shrugged. “It was okay.”
Sanders sighed. “School’s tough, and everyone’s stressed out. They’re either lashing out or hooking up. Pretty much the norm.”
Elise snorted, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Pretty much.”
She and Mackenzie started talking, as did the guys. I just looked around and figured that maybe I had found part of my place. Part of what I needed.
I hadn’t expected them or this, and I still wasn’t sure what I was doing, but I would find my way. I had to.
I didn’t want to become the person that Mandy thought I was.
And that meant I couldn’t hurt Elise. I couldn’t hurt my friends.
Somehow, I had to find a way to keep that promise.
Chapter 12
Elise
Me: I’m so not in the mood to go tonight.
Dillon: Just don’t let your parents see these texts.
I cringed.
Me: Dear God. I would never hear the end of it. But no, I will not let my parents see these texts. They will never know.
Dillon: That’s good. But I hope it’s not that bad. It’s just dinner, right?
I wasn’t exactly sure how to explain a lifetime of failing to live up to my parents’ expectations in a text. Dillon had gone through hell, literally in some cases, and had come out stronger. My petty grievances with how my family treated me weren’t even in the same realm. I didn’t know how to complain about my family without sounding like a petulant child. And maybe that was an answer in itself. That it was just hard to stand up to people who didn’t see me as an adult and who had never truly understood my choices.
Dillon: I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to trivialize anything you’re going through.
I let out a soft smile and shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. I didn’t understand how he came to understand me so quickly, how he understood everything so quickly. It wasn’t as if we’d been together long. It had only been a couple of months at this point, yet he knew how to calm me down when things got a little weird or complicated. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I hadn’t expected Dillon Connolly. Therefore, I had no idea what to expect next.
Me: My parents, hopefully, will be satisfied with merely dinner.
I sidetracked, but I knew he’d let me be. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to feel anyway. Not when it came to school, or Dillon, or going home to people who still saw me as the perfect thirteen-year-old they could mold into their ambitions.
Or maybe I was just thinking a little too hard about all of it and layering where nothing existed at all.
Dillon: Have fun. Text me when you’re done. You’re sitting in their driveway, aren’t you?
I cringed.
Me: Yes, but with the way the driveway is, you can’t see. They don’t know I’m creeping here.
Dillon: They probably know.
Me: Thanks. I’ll see you soon.
Dillon: I hope so.
I blushed, but did my best to push thoughts of Dillion from my mind. I needed to focus on my parents and this dinner. I loved them; I really did. They just expected so much from me and sometimes I had to wonder about the reasons behind their visions for my life and why their intensity had increased over time. They hadn’t always been like this.
I put my phone on silent, tucked it into my bag, and checked my reflection in my rearview mirror. I added a bit more concealer under my eyes since I hadn’t been sleeping much. Between exams, papers, and Dillon, I wasn’t getting as much rest as I should. My parents would notice at a glance. They were doctors, and they could always tell, but I could at least try to hide the worst of it.
I added some lip balm since it wouldn’t add a shine or color to my lips. My mother had strict guidelines for what she liked to see on her daughter. And, sometimes, I didn’t care. Other times, I just wanted to get through dinner without too many arguments, and that meant falling in line. As it was, I was going to disappoint them because I wasn’t switching majors as they wanted.
I might as well not stoke the fires while I was at it.
I put my bag over my elbow, got out of my car, and made my way down the long path towards my parents’ home. I had grown up privileged. I knew that. I was blessed and was well aware that I didn’t have to fight for many of the things others still did. My goal was to work in a field where I could help others and not just people who came from the same background as I had.
I wasn’t sure my parents would understand that, but I couldn’t change their minds in an instant, even though I’d been trying for years.
I rang the doorbell and waited for my mother to answer. Mother always answered the door, even though she was as much an established and prestigious doctor as my father. But there were certain norms in the household. Mother opened the door if there was no staff on hand, and Father would greet me by the mantel. It was what they had always done. It never made any sense to me, but I let it go.
My mother opened the door and smiled politely, the pearls around her neck glistening. She studied my face, her gaze moving down to my perfectly lovely cardigan I had paired with my dress, as well as my sensible heels. She gave me an approving nod after glancing at my eyes, and I was grateful that I had bothered to put on these clothes rather than something I was a little more comfortable in. She took a step back and gestured for me to walk into the house.
“Elise, I’m glad you’re on time.” No hello, no I love you, no how are you—just a quip about promptness. I had arrived early because I was afraid that traffic might delay me, and I’d stayed in the car and texted Dillon until it was time for me to go into the house. Being early was too inconvenient. Being late was never allowed. Being on time was somehow perfect. I usually liked to be early, so I ended up waiting around for my parents most days until the exact, promised time.
“Hello, Mother,” I said and kissed her cheek as she leaned down. She was three inches taller than me, and since she wore more elevated heels—at least for the day—it made for a more noticeable height difference. I knew she’d done it on purpose, for the same reasons I wore sensible heels around her. Or that I didn’t wear flats because my mother thought flats were for girls in ballet. I happened to like them, but I wasn’t going to get into that fight with her tonight.
“Your father’s near the mantel as always. Go say hello to him. I’ll get your club soda ready.”
I hated club soda and would rather have regular soda, juice, water, or God forbid something alcoholic, but I still wasn’t of legal age, and there was no drinking in our household. At least not for me.
My parents drank their normal martinis and whiskeys, but I wasn’t even allowed to acknowledge its existence for another three months.
I swore my parents were the WASPs of old living in Colorado, and I didn’t quite understand how they’d ended up here.
“Hello, Father,” I said and kissed his cheek as he leaned down.
“Elise. You’re looking well.” He narrowed his eyes partially.
“I noticed the bags, as well. Elise, darling, are you using the night creams I sent? When you own your practice, you’re going to need to make sure that you have the face to match. People won’t want to come to you for specialties if you look old and haggard.”