Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
It was only a matter of time before everything exploded. This development shouldn’t come as a surprise.
Guess I was hoping not to be collateral damage in the inevitable fallout.
“I’m sorry, Fallyn.” His voice empties of anger, turning weary. “There’s not enough money in the account to pay your tuition this semester. Your mother and I were just discussing the situation, and we’ve come up with a solution.”
Air gets clogged in my lungs.
I’m almost afraid to hear what it is.
“You’ll take this semester off, move back home, and get a job. I’m sure one of my acquaintances from the country club will hire you as an assistant. Between that and financial aid, you could start back in the fall.” His voice fills with false buoyancy. “Or maybe you could transfer to the local college here and take a class or two this semester. We could probably scrape enough together for that. You could stay at the house. That would be quite a money saver.”
Even though he can’t see it, I shake my head.
No way.
There’s no way I can move back home.
Getting out the first time was difficult enough. It took a lot of coaxing, not to mention a few tantrums that I’m not proud of, for them to relent enough for me to go away to college.
This specific college.
There’s no way I can backpedal now.
When I remain silent, he says with forced jovialness, “Wouldn’t that be fun? Your mother misses you terribly.”
A shiver of dread scampers down my spine before pooling in my belly. It’s quickly chased by guilt. I love my parents, but after the accident, their attention was unbearable.
Suffocating.
Smothering.
They were so afraid that something would happen to me.
Just like—
“Fallyn?”
I shove those thoughts away and focus on the conversation at hand. It takes effort to keep my voice level so that he doesn’t realize how much I’m freaking out. “I have an appointment to speak with someone in student services tomorrow afternoon. Maybe there’s something they can do to help. I’m midway through my junior year. The last thing I want to do is drop out or transfer.”
That thought is like a sucker punch to the gut.
“I never said drop out,” he cuts in hastily. “At the most, it would be a short break to regroup. That’s all.”
Right. How many people say exactly that and then never end up going back to school? Life gets in the way, making it impossible. I refuse to become a statistic. No matter what I have to do, I’ll find a way to stay at Western.
“I guess we’ll talk after your appointment tomorrow and go from there.”
As soon as we hang up, I toss the phone on my bed. There’s a brief knock on the door before my cousin bursts in.
“Any interest in ordering pizza for dinner?” Viola asks. “I could really go for a pepperoni and extra cheese. Maybe mushrooms.”
I shake my head.
My stomach is a tangle of painful knots from the convo with my parents. There’s no way I’ll be able to keep down a single bite. Even the thought makes me nauseous.
It feels like a trapdoor just opened, and I’m now in freefall.
One look at my face has her brows snapping together in concern. “Hey, is everything all right? You look like you’re about to be sick.”
I force out a long, steady breath and relay the phone call.
Her mouth forms a shocked little O before she pads closer and drops down beside me. “What are you going to do?”
I jerk my shoulders as my throat closes up. It’s like I’m being suffocated from the inside out. “Talk with student services and hope that it’s not too late to apply for financial aid.” If I’m lucky, they’ll give me enough money to cover the entire semester.
Along with rent.
I really am going to be sick.
“Have you thought about getting a job? Madden mentioned that Sully was looking for a waitress at Slap Shotz. Apparently, the other girl quit during the middle of a shift last week, and now they’re short staffed.”
I stare for a second or two before laughter bubbles up from my lips, and my eyes widen as I press a hand to my chest. “Wait a minute…are you saying that I should apply for a job there?” There’s a pause before I add, “Where all the hockey players hang out? You do realize that I’ve spent the past couple of years avoiding them, right?”
“Actually, you’ve spent the past couple of years avoiding one in particular. If not there, then maybe a restaurant or store close to campus.”
I force a smile, appreciative that she’s trying to generate a list of possibilities. “You’re right, a job is definitely a good idea. I’ll scour the employment board tonight.”
Will I be applying to Slap Shotz?
Hell no.
There has to be somewhere else I can work.
“What about selling some of your stuff? Any high-end labels sitting in your closet or purses you don’t want anymore?”