“You think she’ll like it?” I ask.
“It’s literally all her favorite things. She’ll love it,” Fee assures me.
Her bathroom has been transformed into a mini-spa, and her fridge is stocked with all her favorite treats, including dinner and dessert for her and her friends.
“Good. I want to be worth the headaches I’m causing.” And I’ll start by taking care of her any way she’ll let me.
CHAPTER 36
TALLY
Istare at the paper in my hands. Fifty-three percent. It’s not a fail, but it’s close. And it’s worth twenty percent of my mark. I should have asked for an extension instead of pushing through. But I didn’t, because explaining that I’m having trouble focusing because I’m dating a professional hockey player and my life is public fodder isn’t anyone’s fault but my own.
I wanted this, even though I knew this would probably happen. But what if it continues indefinitely? What if I fail an assignment? What if I lose my place on the dean’s list? I fight the rising wave of panic.
I manage to keep it together, but when class is over, I quickly pack up my bag and duck out of the lecture theater. I pull my hood up and keep my head down. Reporters have stopped trolling me on campus and at my apartment. Flip confronted them outside of my apartment, and later gave a very emotional, heartfelt interview. Both went viral.
It’s been more than a week, so I figured it would be safe to check my socials today. I was very wrong. The masses are divided. Half think I should be left alone, the other half stillbelieve they’re entitled to a piece of Flip. We made our beds, now we should lie in them.
My phone rings, scaring the crap out of me. I’m jumpy as shit these days. And my appetite is garbage. My mom calls daily to check in. She’s caught in the middle, navigating the impact of this on my sister and brother while trying to be supportive. It’s a hard line to toe. I don’t know how to be just her daughter and she doesn’t know how to be just my mom. We’re learning under pressure, and it’s tricky.
It’s my sister calling, which isn’t typical. Normally she texts.
“Hey, Fenna. What’s up?” I scroll through my calendar to make sure I haven’t missed something important.
She hiccups.
“Fen? Are you okay? What happened?”
She sniffles. “Dad came over. I thought he was staying for dinner because Mom made a big chicken pot pie. But I don’t like chicken pot pie.”
“It’s too many textures and flavors at the same time,” I finish for her. If Dad came by, it means the team is back in Toronto.
“But Dad didn’t stay. I was practicing cello when he arrived and I had to finish the piece, so I didn’t even get to see him.”
“Was he dropping something off?” Sometimes Fenna gets hung up on the details.
“I don’t know. They were fighting, though.”
“What were they fighting about?”
She’s silent for a moment.
“Fen? What were they arguing about?”
“You and your boyfriend. I didn’t mean to listen, but they were being loud. People are saying mean things about you, and I don’t want them to be true.”
“Are people saying mean things to you about me?” I ask.
“You can’t tell Mom, Tallulah. Sometimes she’s sad and she cries, and I don’t want to make her more sad.” She huffs. “And I know that Dad always worked, and wasn’t here all the time, but Istill miss him. Are you moving home when you’re finished university?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“If you don’t, it will just be me and Mom.”
“Fen—”
“Will you move in with your boyfriend?”
