“You bet.” I smile an apology to Casey’s and Emory’s parents and follow Ash into the TV room, where he’s already set up the game. To be honest, I’m glad of the reprieve from all the questions.
Emory and Casey join me a few minutes later. They sit beside me, Casey hugging me, Emory resting his cheek on my shoulder, as they watch me and Ash play. It’s a cooperative game where you play people made out of string, one blue, one red. It’s cute.
“Your parents are amazing,” I whisper.
To be fair, Ash is so absorbed in the game that he probably wouldn’t take in anything we say anyway.
Emory chuckles. “You said that yesterday and the day before. Several times.’
“I know, but I wanted you to know I mean it.”
“Then why do you look sad?” Casey asks.
“Because being with them these last three days and seeing the relationships you have with them is a reminder of what I’ve never had with my parents. Sorry. It’s Christmas. I shouldn’t be getting melancholy.”
“You’re allowed to get melancholy whenever you need. I’m sorry that you have reason to,” Emory says.
“Yeah, me too.”
“Have you told your parents how you feel?” Casey asks.
“About my degree? Yes. Several times. They don’t listen.” I spit the words out through my clenched teeth.
“I meant about not getting to spend time with them. Not having an affectionate relationship with them.”
I shake my head. “The boat’s sailed on that one. I wouldn’t want it now, even if they suddenly tried. They don’t deserve my love or affection.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and hand the controller to Emory. “You play for a bit.”
He takes over, barely missing a beat.
Ash looks over his shoulder. “I wanted Auggie to play.”
“He’s taking a breather. Besides, I’m the better player.” Emory grins at me.
“True.” Ash shrugs and turns back to the game.
I press my head against Casey’s shoulder as he cuddles me. “You have great families. Treasure them,” I whisper hoarsely.
Casey rubs my back. “We do. And you’ve got us.”
“I won’t if I don’t pass this year with a two-one grade average. Right now, I’m barely scraping a third. I can’t turn it around in two terms.”
“You can,” Emory says.
“And if I can’t? My parents will make me go home and work a shitty job at Dad’s shitty company.” I press my hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I hiss, staring at Ash’s back.
“I don’t think he heard,” Emory whispers.
I breathe out as I lower my hand.
“They can’t make you,” Casey says.
“They’ll cut off my money and take the house away from me. What choice would I have?”
“If he does that, you’ll move in with us,” Emory says like it’s the obvious solution.
Maybe it is, one I didn’t dare to consider.
Casey nods in agreement. “Your parents don’t get to control your life. You’re the only one who gets to do that. Maybe you should do what Mum said and talk to your tutor about swapping to another course.”
