Page 80 of Face Me Off

I open the email.

“Congratulations, Madison Grimes! Your submission has been selected as the winner of the Young Artists Competition. Your collection will be featured in our upcoming Los Angeles Museum of Contemporary Art exhibit. Details to follow soon. Congratulations!”

Holy shit. I actually won.

A disbelieving laugh bubbles up my throat. I can’t believe it! My hands itch to grab my phone and call Ryan. He’s the first person I want to share this news with.

But we haven’t spoken a word since the night of the Gala when I told him I needed time to think. The memory of his crestfallen face makes me wince. I thought he’d still reach out, but I guess asking for space was taken as a full stop.

My fault. I’m the asshole who left things up in the air. Sighing, I step out of the car and force myself to face the inevitable—my parents.

The mansion looms, a glittering facade wrapped in garlands and twinkling lights that feel as cold and sterile as the life waiting for me inside.

Each step toward the door feels like walking to the gallows.

God, I wish I had Ryan here with me. There isn’t any way my parents would agree to me seeing him, but I’m not much into caring what they think anymore. I’m done being the dutiful daughter and following the path laid out for me. But I’m also smart enough to know which battles to fight.

The fight with Ryan is on hold for now, no matter how much I miss him and his stupid big dick.

I approach the tall double doors, covered by oversized garland wreaths with white poinsettias dipped in gold glitter. More garland with twinkling white lights adorns the doorframe. It’s festive but certainly not welcoming. Not for me, anyway. I know what lies on the other side. For a moment, I contemplate turning around and leaving. But I have a purpose and won’t accomplish anything without talking to them first.

Stepping inside, I let the sterile, white walls greet me. Everything in this house screams cold, and the marble floors are no exception. But it feels different now, like a costume that nolonger fits. This isn’t my home anymore, but I fear the apartment won’t be either with Amanda gone.

I close my eyes and take a few calming breaths, patting the shell buried inside my pocket.God, I could really use your encouragement right now, Ryan.

The click of my heels competes with the hushed voices from the living room. I’d turn around and leave if addressing school wasn’t so important. I just hate that the dread of facing my parents supersedes excitement over the contest. Dentistry is the only acceptable future in their eyes. And dropping that bomb to switch my major to art? Yeah, I may as well have told them I’d joined the circus with the way they took it.

I pause at the threshold and take in the scene before me. My parents sit on the plush sofa as if waiting for me. Mom glances at Dad and gives him a subtle nod. I suddenly get intervention vibes.

Well, here goes nothing.

I step into the room with my head held high. “Mom, Dad.”

“Maddy, come sit down,” Mom says, patting the armchair across from them. “Let’s talk.”

I perch on the edge of the cushion, pulse hammering against my ribcage. “What’s up?”

“Did you see Amanda off?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised she had the funds to go home for both holidays this year.” My father’s voice is gruff. “I hope she isn’t depending on Blake’s money.”

I bite back a sharp retort, forcing myself to stay calm. “Amanda’s doing fine. She’s worked a lot of extra shifts.”

There’s no way I’m telling them her move back to Boston is permanent. He’d make me get another roommate, but that isn’t happening.

“Hmm.” Dad furrows his brow. “You two have been close for so long. I hope this doesn’t affect your focus on your studies.” He clears his throat pointedly. “Speaking of which...”

Here we go. I press my lips together, bracing for the lecture about my future in the thrilling world of molars and fillings. Inconvenient passions need not apply.

“Your mother and I were talking, and if dentistry truly isn’t for you, what about pharmacy? Or nursing? There are so many stable options in the medical field to consider.”

I shake my head slowly, digging my nails into my palms. “Actually, I have some news. Do you remember that art contest I entered a few months ago? I just found out I won.”

Mom’s eyes widen, but her smile seems forced. “Oh, Maddy, that’s … wonderful. But surely you understand, a contest is hardly a reliable indicator of a viable career path.”

“Your mother’s right.” Dad’s tone is measured but firm. “Art is a lovelyhobby, but it’s not a practical choice for your future. Dentistry offers stability and a good income. It’s a respectable profession.”

---