“Whatever. Like I said, I’ll go to school. I’m not going around applying for jobs.”
“Lucky you, you don’t have to,” Dad says, the first thread of irritation working its way into his voice. “I got you a job at Dr. Mulaney’s.”
As if.
“Oh yeah, that soundsgreat,” I drawl sarcastically. “Me and my nursing degree will do such a great job. Do you think this will count towards my clinical hours for that medical degree I’ve always wanted?”
I can damn nearhearDad’s annoyance bubbling up, his teeth grinding so hard his jaw bulges in frustration.
“God help us all if you ever become a doctor,” he spits harshly. “You don’t have the drive, thankfully.” The words hurt more than I want them to, especially since I’ve never once in my life thought about becoming a doctor. Would it kill Dad to pretend like he believes in me? “It’s a secretarial position. It’s easy work compared to anything else you’ll find around here. Dr. Mulaney’s secretary is going on vacation for a week and a half with her husband to celebrate his retirement, so they need someone to take over her position while she’s gone. It’ll give you plenty of time to decide on your major.”
I whip my head to the side, finally directing my attention to him instead of the TV. A smug smirk sits on his lips, bushy brows twitching with amusement as he watches the realization set in.
He’s serious about this. Like, actuallyserious.
He got me a fuckingjob.
Oh, you’ve got to be kidding! He never pushed this hard with Oakley or Bo, so why does he have to meddle so much with me? What makes their dreams and goals any more real than mine?
I sit up straight, fear tensing every muscle in my body.
“Wait, but you—” I cut myself off, hysteria threatening to bubble up my throat as my mind spins a million miles an hour. “That wasn’t the deal! You said I could go to school!”
“Of course you can go to school, Magnolia,” he says, infuriatingly reasonable. “But the next semester doesn’t even start for a month and a half, and there’s no reason for you to sit around with nothing to do. You’ll go stir crazy, don’t you think?”
I gape at him, utterly flabbergasted that he’d stoop so low. He’s been a hardass my whole life, but he’s never pushed this hard.
“That’s not fair!” I argue, shoving up from the couch so he’s not looking down at me with that smug fucking grin. “You said I could go to school and get an allowance, and now what? I just have to live under your fucking thumb and do whatever you say?”
“You live inmyhouse,” he reminds me, dropping his pleased grin to glower at me. “You’re already an adult, as you love to remind everyone. I could kick you out and leave you to fend for yourself, but instead, I’m helping you set up a life for yourself. If you want to act like the adult yousayyou are, you can do whatever you want with your paycheck from this job and go to school when that time rolls around. I’m not going to keep babying you. You start Monday at eight, and if you don’t show up, you won’t be getting a penny from me, understood?”
He turns and marches toward the door before I can even draw a breath to argue, leaving me in the living room, gaping after him as the front door slams closed.
Thoughts swarm me like furious, buzzing bees, all of them flying by too fast for me to grasp onto any single one. I don’t want to be up that early, and I don’t want to answer fucking phones, and I don’t want to fucking work at all!
If this is how he’s going to act, maybe I’m better off doing exactly what he said and getting the hell out of here. It can’t be that hard to get what I want, even without the cushion of my trust fund.
Fuck him, I’ll figure this out on my own.
I storm out of the living room, leaving the stupid fucking binder on the couch. Mom’s keys hang in their normal spot by the door, and I grab them after lacing up a pair of sneakers on my way out. She didn’t say anything about making house calls today, and if she needs to go anywhere, she can borrow Dad’s truck. I’m too pissed off to bother asking for permission to take her car, so I just jump in. I place an order for pizza on my phone before taking off, knowing that this bitch session won’t be complete unless we have food to go with it.
A cloud of dust forms behind me as I tear off down the driveway, my (mind still hem in your swanky L.A. apartment.”who are we talking about? very confusing bridge here..
The doorbell rings before I have a chance to answer her, and she looks at me questioningly.
“I ordered pizza,” I say, answering the unspoken question. “I’m nowhere near done complaining, and I need comfort food to stop me from blowing my lid.”
“I assume you want me to go down and get it?” Penny says with a laugh, already slipping from the bed.
The pajamas she’s wearing are part of a matching set we bought together, and I regret not bringing mine over. We could have had a proper girl’s night. Maybe I’ll have to snag something comfortable from her dresser so we can cozy up and watch movies when I’m done complaining.
I hum in agreement, making a show of burrowing into her warm comforter. “Pretty please? I’msocozy.”
She laughs at my antics and flips her middle finger up at me before disappearing down the stairs. My mind wanders as I hear her descend the squeaky stairs and open the front door. As much as I keep saying that I don’t care what Dad wants, I also really don’t want to make my own life any harder. Sure, it would be a big ‘fuck you’ to the old man if I really did just dip and figurethings out on my own, but it all seems absurd when I have a trust fund justwaitingfor me.
Maybe it’s smarter to just go along with everything for now.
I can go to this stupid job for a month and save my money. I’ll stash everything away and just move to California without any help.
