Page 13 of Spades

Dad is celebrating ten years of being mayor, and he’s been very popular. He’ll run for a fourth term in two years, and he’s a shoo-in to win.

I’m slated to go to Yale in the fall to study political science. I doubt they even looked at my application. They probably saw the name “Maddox Hathaway” on the top and admitted me right then and there. I spent a lot of time studying for the SAT and ACT, painstakingly wrote the perfect admissions essay, and did years of community service and extracurricular activities to pad my résumé, but my name alone is all I needed.

I didn’t earn my place there.

So I’m not going.

I’m going to tell them all tonight.

And it’s not going to be pretty.

I spend the cocktail hour shaking hands and receiving checks from family friends. I haven’t looked at any of them yet, but I know each one is good for at least a grand, if not more.

After I make my announcement, I’ll offer to give the money back.

Dinner is served—first a wedge salad, and then New York strip with garlic mashed potatoes as the main course, all my favorites—and then I’m expected to make a speech before they cut the birthday cake.

I slowly walk to the podium in front of my cake, which has been placed at a perfect height to frame my head and shoulders as I speak. Everything in this room has been intricately tailored to be a damned photo op. The photographer diligently takes his place in front of me.

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of my father and the Hathaway family at large, I want to thank you all for attending my birthday party.”

My speech has been written for me, and a teleprompter is there to make sure I get it all right, of freaking course.

But fuck it. I’m going off script.

“Eighteen is a weird age. You’re legally an adult, but there are days when I still feel like a scared little kid. My brain isn’t even fully developed, but I’m supposed to decide right now how I’m going to spend the rest of my life.”

A few nervous chuckles resonate through the audience. My father narrows his eyes. He wrote my speech himself, and he knows I’m already straying.

“As you all know, I’ve been accepted to Yale, my own father’s alma mater, this fall, to study political science, continue the family’s legacy in the city of Chicago and the state of Illinois.”

Several people nod as murmurs fill the room.

“But…after weeks of thought, I’ve realized that I have no desire to go into politics.”

Gasps. Various women clutch at their necklaces.

Dad gets to his feet. “Friends, you all know my son is a bit of a joker sometimes…”

“No, Dad,” I interrupt, speaking clearly over his voice. “This isn’t a joke. I appreciate the work you’ve put in to lay a straight path in front of me, but it’s not a path I want to follow.”

Dad walks up behind the podium, pushing me out of the way. He nervously chuckles into the microphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen, clearly I need to have a word in private with my son. In the meantime, we’ll cut the birthday cake. Please enjoy it, and we’ll be back shortly.”

Dad grabs my arm and yanks me out of the ballroom into the mansion’s foyer.

He glares daggers into me. “You want to tell me what the hell that was about, Maddox?”

I whip my arm out of his grasp. “Dad, you never once asked me whatIwant to do with my life. You just assumed I was going to follow in your footsteps because I’m a Hathaway. Because that’s what we do.”

“Yes, Maddox. Itis.” He gestures around the lavish decorations. “Do you like all the bells and whistles? The pomp and circumstance? That doesn’t come for free, son. Our name commands respect, power even. It’s our duty to use that for the common good.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Dad. You don’t care about the common good. You care about collecting checks and paying for your luxurious lifestyle.”

“A luxurious lifestyle that has kept you in the best clothes, the best schools, the best upbringing that money can buy, Maddox,” Dad says. “I’m afraid this choice is out of your hands.” He grabs my shoulders and turns me around. “Now you are going to march right back in there and tell the invited guests that you were making a joke, one that fell flat on its ass.”

I turn back around, glaring at him. “No, Dad. I don’twantthis life.”

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