Page 15 of Only With You

Still, my brain and body refuse to understand that because nerves prickle at my skin. Despite my tumultuous feelings, asmall part of me clings onto hope that the conversation won’t be so bad today.

Blowing out a shaky breath, I answer and prop my phone between my shoulder and ear, wiping my sweat drenched palms on my thighs.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hello, how are you?”

The pep in her voice somewhat alleviates my nerves, but still, I wait for the inevitable. Unlike Dad, who’s curt and straight to the point, Mom likes to be passive-aggressive.

“I’m…good. I just finished studying. How are you?”

I eye my open laptop, the notebooks, and array of highlighters and pens scattered on my desk. I studied for approximately two hours, but it was pointless, because nothing stuck.

My thoughts couldn’t stop straying to what Sienna said earlier today, my test grade I’ll be getting tomorrow, and the conversation with Mom or Dad.

“Natalie and I just got back from speaking with the wedding plan—” She stops mid-sentence and in the background, I hear faint clicking. I don’t have to ask what she’s doing to know she’s on her laptop. If she’s not on it, she’s on her iPad or phone or she’s using them all at once. Because of her job, she stays busy and that means during our once-a-week call.

“You lookedoddin the picture Sienna posted on Instagram. You looked really exhausted.” The change of conversation isn’t new to me, but it still gives me whiplash.

If it were up to me, those pictures wouldn’t have been taken, but it’s part of being in the sorority. Pictures are constantly taken and posted on all social media accounts.

I force my smile to stay put and not burn under the pressure building in my head.

“I—”

She cuts me off. The clicking in the background stops. “Look, I understand you have a lot going on with school and the sorority, but if you want to stop, I will speak with your father.”

I thickly swallow, bracing for impact for what I know is about to come out of her mouth.

“School isn’t for everyone, and I know it’s reallyneverbeen for you.” She wistfully sighs. “But look on the bright side. At least you’re beautiful. Your brains may not get you far, but your beauty will.”

I bite the inside of my cheek hard, hating how the bridge of my nose stings. Pressing my lips together, I stare up at the ceiling and blink a few times.

She means well. She loves you. She’s the reason you have it made. Get over yourself. It could be worse.

I tell myself and force my gaze back down, not willing the tears that have gathered at the corner of my eyes to fall.

“No, Mom, you don’t have to speak to Dad. I’m confident I’ll do well this year.” I grasp onto the last bit of positivity I can before it eludes me and clutch onto it as hard as I can.

“You sound very self-assured for someone who’s failed quite a few times,” she passively replies.

“I know, but this time, I?—”

“I have to go, but I really hope you don’t disappoint us again. It’s embarrassing not only to me, but to your father as well. Do better, Julianna. Love you.”

“Yes, Mom, I promise I’ll do better. Love you.”

She hangs up and my room fills with silence once again, but the silence lasts merely a second before her words echo in my head.

It’s really never been for you.

Your brains may not get you far.

Don’t disappoint us again.

Licking my dry lips, I lift them higher, refusing to let the quiver trap my bottom lip. I stand up straighter, not allowing myself to throw a pity party.

After setting my phone on the bed, I wipe my palms on my thighs and pick up the remote. I go to YouTube and I’m immediately greeted with my favorite YouTuber, Haptic.

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