“Honey, it’s not a matter of you apologizing. It’s you telling us what’s wrong. All we want to do is help. Do you miss Cambridge? Help us understand what’s going on.”
I scoff. “I don’t miss Cambridge.”
“You don’t? You seemed … happy there.”
“Cambridge is fine. I like it as much as I would any school. I told you and Dad for years that I didn’t want to go to college. You never listened. So, I’m getting the super-important degree, okay? I won’t be the least educated Kensington.”
“You could have gone anywhere,” Dad says. “If you’re not happy at Cambridge and you want to transfer, we can discuss alternatives.”
Mom nods in agreement. “If you’re still interested in UCLA, there are?—”
“I can’t go to UCLA.”
Mom’s forehead furrows with confusion. “Why not? That’s where you were supposed to go.”
I exhale a long breath. I’m so tired of keeping this from my parents. And it’s not like my grandfather can retroactively let Sawyer drown. “Because it wasn’t on Grandpa’s list.”
My parents exchange one of their patented looks. The sort where they’re watching what they say now but will discuss it with each other later.
“What list?” Dad questions in his low, serious,I’m an important CEOvoice.
“Grandpa did me a favor a couple of summers ago. There wereconditions for his help, and one of them was that I choose a college from his approved list.”
“Arthur didwhat?” Mom exclaims.
“Hannah,” Dad says quietly, then focuses on me. “What was the favor, Wren?”
I blow out a breath. “There was a bad storm … Sawyer was out during it. The marina wasn’t doing much. I figured Grandpa would know someone important to call, and he did. I couldn’t donothing.”
“And your grandfather required you to switch colleges in exchange for making a phone call?” Mom sounds pissed. Incredulous.
“I wasn’t that enthused about UCLA anyway. I’m probably happier at Cambridge than I would have been in California. Most of my classmates have never heard of Kensington Consolidated.”
“Most?” Dad questions.
Mom shoots him an exasperated look. “Really, Oliver?”
“You should have told us, Wren,” Dad tells me. “Your grandfather had absolutely no right to insert himself in any part of your life. It was … reprehensible for him to use your feelings as a pawn to get what he wanted. I will speak to him as soon as I’m back in the city.”
“Don’t.” I lift my chin. “We made a deal. He was clear about his terms. I accepted.”
“Terms, plural?”
I should have known Dad had been in too many negotiations to miss that slipup.
“He had me break up with Sawyer too.”
“Yourgrandfatherknew about this boy?” Mom asks. She sounds stunned. A little hurt too.
The espresso machine shuts off with a gurgle. I reach for the mug, taking an eager sip despite the steaming temperature.
“I told you, he’s not a boy. And, yes, Grandpa found out … accidentally. He didn’t approve. And it probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway since I was leaving. But, yeah, that was the other condition.”
Mom exhales. “I have a meeting I can’t miss. We’ll talk about this more later, Wren. Drink lots of water today, okay?”
I nod, sipping more coffee. “After I finish this.”
She walks over, kissing the top of my head. “I love you.”
