Page 664 of Filthy Elites

I expect them both to come in and rip me apart, but she alone comes in, and Cal closes the door leaving us both inside my room, which feels so much more like a prison now.

Silence fills the space between us. Not the type of reverent silence you’d find in a church on a Sunday morning while the patrons say their private prayers. But more like the silent hush before an execution.

She looks at me. I look at her. And I feel ashamed.

I sold my body to a boy for a hundred grand so I could get away from her.

What do I say?

What can I say?

Should I say anything?

Mom looks as if she’s been crying. I would cry too if my daughter did something so low to embarrass me.

I swallow hard and gear up to say something. I want to start with sorry, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

“I heard what happened at school today,” Mom confirms.

Tears tip over my lids at the confirmation, and I know to start with that apology.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, Mom.”

She stares back at me and dabs the corners of her eyes. She looks more haggard than I’ve ever seen her, and I wish I could fix everything.

“I’m assuming the money was for L.A.? You were going to leave?”

I nod. This isn’t the time to lie or try to be a smart mouth and defend myself or my independence. I fucked up, and I have to accept it.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen, and it wasn’t like I was some kind of whore. I promise you it wasn’t. This was a guy I liked.”

Mom bites down hard on her back teeth and blows out a ragged breath. “Were you careful?”

“Mom—”

“Billie,wereyou careful?” she asks with more insistence keeping her gaze nailed to mine.

“Yes.” It feels like a lie. Although it’s not technically. I took my pills, but Chad never wore a condom. I believed him when he said he was clean and assumed, like the fool I am, that he was sleeping with just me. That’s not being careful.

“I drove you to this,” she mutters, shocking me down to my core.

I wasn’t expecting her to say that.

“But this is all me and my own stupid fault.”

“Yes. It is your fault, and Billie, I’m furious that you would do this and sell the most precious thing you have. But I can’t be angry when I know it’s my fault too.” She pauses for a beat. “This is what happens when you try to control someone who’s a grown adult. I don’t know what made me think I could control you when I was already seeing your father when I was eighteen.”

I always forget that. Mom had me when she was nineteen. Maybe that’s why we clash so much, because she’s not even forty yet and I’m a year shy of being half her age.

She steps forward, coming closer, and I’m thrown when she sits next to me and takes my hand into hers.

I search her eyes, unsure of what’s going on, but then she squeezes my hand and drags in a deep, measured breath.

“You can go to UCLA. If that is where your heart is and you’re not going there to be closer to your father, you can go. I will pay for whatever you need to get the education you want so all your dreams can come true.”

I gaze at her wide-eyed, not sure if I should be relieved. “Really?”

“Yes. You have my word. But I think the time has come for me to tell you certain truths.”

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