I wasn’t great at reading people, but I definitely caught her disappointment. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a musician?”
“Because we met eight hours ago. It didn’t come up.”
“Do you still play?”
Michelle’s posture stiffened. “I just finished my freshman year at Juilliard.”
“Well, shit...”
Her laugh was short and bitter. “Don’t get too excited. My parents donated a building.”
“Oh.”
The word landed wrong, and I instantly regretted it. Made it sound like I agreed she wasn’t good enough.
“I didn’t mean—”
“It’s okay,” she cut me off. “I already came to the conclusion myself. I quit.”
“Juilliard?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I was taking a spot from someone else who deserved it more. People whose parents didn’t purchase it. Someone like you, with natural talent.”
“I think you’re giving me way too much credit, and yourself not enough.”
“I know I’m good, Scott. I’m just not exceptional. And that’s what it takes at Juilliard.”
I could’ve kept arguing, but her face told me she’d already made her peace. I knew that look: the world pushing you to choose one thing when you’d already decided on another. At the end of the day, the choice was yours to live with. And hers was made.
“Did your parents freak?”
“They will when they find out. I plan to tell them tomorrow.”
My eyes popped. “I’m glad I’m not you.”
“It’s not going to be pretty. I think that’s why I came tonight. I needed a moment to breathe before my world totally collapses.”
I got the point, though I wondered if she really understood what a collapse felt like. I did. And it was barely survivable. Somehow, I figured her version of collapse would pale in comparison.
“Remember earlier when I told you I was running from an arranged marriage? It wasn’t a joke. My mother doesn’t believe in higher education. She thinks I should marry and carry on the family name. Pop out a couple of heirs. Juilliard was the only thing protecting me. And now…”
“That’s bullshit.”
Her head snapped toward me. “Excuse me?”
“It’s your life. No one has the right to tell you how to live it.”
“You don’t know my mother.”
“I don’t need to. We’re not living in the Middle Ages. She can’t force you into a life you don’t want. You’re the only one who decides that. And if you let her, that’s on you.”
“Ouch.” She winced.
“I’m not trying to be a dick. We only get one life, and no one knows how long it lasts. So live it as Michelle Lavelle… or live it your own way, but don’t tell yourself someone else decided for you.”
