“Forget it,” he replies, putting words in her mouth. They sound fast and hard, like shots from a pistol. They hit me right where it hurts, but I refuse to flinch. If I show weakness, I’ve lost.
“Dad, may I remind you that Mom can do whatever she wants with her own money?” My smile is more like a grimace.
“Not if it comes from our joint account.” His mask of control is slowly but surely crumbling. But he’s holding out longer than I expected.
I turn to Mom again.Seriously?She transferred my tuition fee from theirjoint account? It’s no wonder Dad noticed it.
“You have exactly two options, Jase,” he continues. He only needs a few seconds to regain his composure. “Either you come live at home and go to Harvard, with our full financial support, or you decide against Harvard and your family and deal with the consequences by yourself.”
“Rufus—” Mom says, but Dad silences her with a sweeping gesture.
“We’ll talk later, Victoria.”
I get up and shove my hands in my pockets as Mom gives me an apologetic glance. I look at Dad like I don’t care, but actually, I’m sick to my stomach. “Then I guess I’ll live with the consequences.”
Dad’s mask shatters like glass. His face goes bright red. “Don’t be a fool!”
A harsh laugh escapes me, but my eyes are burning. “I’m not the one acting like a fool here, Dad. You’re determined to get your way? Fine by me. Then cut off the money if it makes you feel better! I’ll be fine.”
That’s a lie, and we both know it, but I’m not going to back down. I can’t. It’s not about Harvard; it never was. It’s about me not being who he wants me to be. And yes, I came here for money, but deep down, I know there’s another reason. On shaky legs, I head for the door.
“Jason Alexander Winslow, you’re not going to leave now.” Dad’s voice has become ominously quiet, but I don’t stop.
I’m not afraid of him. Because no matter how angry he can get, he’d never hurt me. Or Mom, or Lia. My dad is a doctor, heart and soul. He doesn’t hurt people; he saves them. He just couldn’t save the one person who meant more to him than anything else in the world.
My heart is racing as I walk out of Mom’s office and then the clinic. Did I really think I could fix the whole thing so easily? Ask Mom for money and everything would be fine?
Obviously, I was wrong. I’m not going to get the money, and that means I’m totally screwed.
Chapter 10
Zoe
Which parts of the world do you want to see most?
London. Verona. Edinburgh. Paris. Rome. Barcelona. Lisbon. After graduation, I would love to travel around Europe all summer and see every theater.
—P
I spend the rest of the day hiding behind a fake smile, even though I’m constantly nauseated and feel like I’m going to lose it at any moment.
The conversation with Francesca was difficult mainly because I had to lie, and I’ve never been a good liar. She wasn’t thrilled with my behavior, but because it was my first day and nerves are normal at the beginning—her words, not mine—she let me get away with it. However, she also made it clear that she won’t tolerate any more scenes like that. I have to get a grip on myself.
Somehow, I manage to get through lunch break with Mae. Kaya, Jessica, and two other girls from our class sit down with us, but I only register a fraction of their conversation. The afternoon goes only marginally better. I take notes during theory lessons,writing down the dates of exams, when we’re going to cover which topics, and which books we’re supposed to buy, even though most of them are already on my desk. I’m present and functioning, but I’m not reallyhere. I can’t think of anything but Jase and that damn pas de deux class. I keep feeling his hands on my skin and the panic that hit me totally out of the blue.
I don’t understand where it came from. My last panic attack was months ago. I went on dates and danced with other boys to prepare for the entrance exam. I really thought I had myself under control. Obviously, I was wrong.
I should probably talk to someone. My parents. Caleb. Dr.Somers. But if I did, they’d make a bigger deal out of it than necessary. They’d jump to conclusions, and in the worst case, they’d pressure me to leave school again because they’re worried. They’re always worried.
I’m so tired of it. I’m tired of the worry and the panic. It’s over, and that’s how it’s going to stay. Today was an isolated incident. A tiny, insignificant loss of control because I had to dance with Jase, of all people. Nothing more. It won’t happen again.
For two days, I manage to convince myself of it. For two days, I manage not to go crazy, even though Mr.Conrad and our other teachers touch me several times to correct my posture. Until the next pas de deux lesson on Wednesday, when Francesca assigns me a new partner. Ches is nice. He’s taller than Jase, and thinner, with a friendly smile and a warm look in his brown eyes.
But the second he puts his hands on my waist—hands that feel so different from Jase’s—I realize I’ve been lying to myself over the last forty-eight hours. I didn’t panic because the hands on my body belonged to Jase.
It was because they were large and masculine, with a grip that was firm and confident. My chest tightens again. I can feel my heart beating out of rhythm. I hear Francesca’s instructions like I’ve got cotton balls in my ears, but I can do this. I must. If I fail, my dream will be over, and I can’t allow that.
Pull yourself together, Zoe.
