Page 53 of Pucking Forbidden

“Thanks, Dad,” I start, my voice wavering a bit. “Actually, that's kind of why I called. I wanted to tell you…I had a job interview this week.”

“Oh? An internship,” he interrupts, the satisfaction in his tone practically radiating through the speaker. “For law, I presume. Tell me, is it with one of your professors? Or did you finally reach out to that firm downtown I mentioned? My daughter, the future attorney. I knew you’d see the light.”

“No, Dad,” I reply, trying to cut him off before he spins the fantasy any further. “It’s not an internship. It’s just a part-time job at an ice rink near…”

“Nonsense,” he snaps, his voice turning cool, slicing through my sentence without a shred of hesitation. “No daughter of mine needs some mindless, part-time job. You have one job right now, Hadley, and that is to excel in your studies so you can get into a top-tier law school. If you need extra spending money, just ask me. This is not something you need to, or should be, doing. Now, a good law internship, on the other hand…”

“But Dad, please just listen to me for a second…”

“You don’t need a job.” His voice is flat, and I know he means for his words to be final.

Usually, I’d fold at the sound of that particular voice, but I’m not going to this time. This job is too important to me.

“I know I don’t need one,” I agree. “But I want…”

“Hadley,” he cuts me off. “I’m paying for your education so you can focus on it. Not so you can waste time working at a rink.”

My grip tightens on the phone. “It’s not a waste of time.”

“It is if it distracts you from what actually matters.”

I close my eyes for a second. Here we go. Time to sell it.

“It wouldn’t,” I insist. “I can handle both.”

He lets out a frustrated huff of breath. “That’s not the point.”

This feels pointless. I’m not getting anywhere. It was a mistake to even try to talk to him.

“Okay,” I murmur. “I have to go, Dad. I have some homework to finish.”

“Good,” he replies, like this is a settled matter. “Focus on that. Everything else is just a distraction.”

My anger makes me bold, and I do something I’ve never done before. I hang up without replying. I stare at my phone long after the screen goes dark, my frustration sitting heavy deep in my stomach.

Fuck, what was I actually hoping for? That he’d suddenly decide to listen and give a shit about my opinion? About what I actually want?

I didn’t realize I was still so naive.

With a groan, I slump back against my couch, letting my head rest on the back of the couch to gaze up at the ceiling. What the hell am I going to do now?

Suddenly, my phone buzzes, breaking the suffocating silence of the apartment. I fish it out from the couch cushion, my heart doing a little leap when I see Julian’s name on the screen.

Julian: Hey, stranger, how was your day?

Usually, I’d fire back something quick and playful, matching his energy, but right now, with the sting of my dad’s words still fresh in my mind, I can’t bring myself to fake it. My fingers hover over the screen before I tap out a brief response.

Hadley: Ok I guess.

It takes him less than a minute to reply.

Julian: Wow. That great, huh?

I stare at the screen, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. I want to tell him everything about the interview, about my dad, about the terrifying step toward independence I’m trying to take, but doing it over text feels too monumental, and honestly, too exhausting.

Hadley: Meh...just a lot on my mind.

A few agonizing moments pass while the typing bubbles appear and disappear. When his message finally pops up, it’s like a lifeline thrown right into my pity party.