Page 11 of The Bro Date
The parmesan risotto is heavenly, but the sea bass steals the show. The food is delicious, just like it always is when the chef stops by and preps everything in advance, leaving right before my mother’s guests arrive. She likes to pretend it’s her cooking, but we all know it’s not.
“So, have you thought any more about switching majors, Tobias?” Mom suddenly asks, immediately spoiling my appetite. I set my fork down and prepare to be lectured. “Violin is a wonderful hobby, but it’s not a career, darling. It’s time to grow up and choose something that will make you money. Like real estate. Right, Matthew?” She looks at my dad for backup.
“Yep. Finance or business is the way to go, not this fluffy music theory crap.”
Fluffy what?
Something nudges my foot under the table, and I glance up from the spot I was staring at on my plate, completely disassociating from the conversation. Fathomless dark eyes meet my gaze, and I’m instantly pulled into the black hole that is Shane Carmichael.
My parents drone on and on about how important it is for me to choose something else—something they approve of—while I continue to get lost in Shane’s intense stare. I feel safe with him, and that’s the only thing getting me through this dinner from hell.
I was really hoping they wouldn’t do this tonight.
“It’s highly unlikely that you’ll ever become a wealthy violinist, Tobias,” my mother says brusquely, leaning back in her seat and finishing off the last of her wine.
“I’d say it’s a long shot,” Dad adds dismissively, placing his napkin on top of his plate like he’s finished with dinner and the conversation.
“Be realistic, Tobias. You’re not a child any longer.” Mom rolls her eyes, and that’s what finally bursts the dam of how much shit I can take.
I’ve had enough of them roasting me.
“Be realistic?” I huff, completely agitated by their asshole behavior before we even make it to dessert. “I’ve only got one chance on this Earth, just like you. So, why would I waste it on some soul-sucking job I hate? No, thank you. I’m gonna chase my dreams.”
Fuck. I need to get out of here before the panic sets in.
“Your mother and I just want you to make smart choices for your future because it all starts now. Time to grow up, Tobias.”
“Even Shane chose a respectable major. You can do so much with a business degree,” Mom says matter-of-factly. “You really need to switch paths, darling.”
That was the most backhanded compliment I’ve ever heard, and I can feel the embarrassment coat my skin like a glaze of shame. I glance over at my best friend, sitting stoically in his seat, completely unfazed.
“Mrs. Livingston,” he replies evenly, as if she didn’t just insult and compliment him all in the same breath. “With all due respect, Toby is the first chair violinist. It would be a blow to the entire music department if he left.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, it still doesn’t change how I feel about the situation,” she snaps before turning to me. “You’re throwing away your future, Tobias.”
“And my tuition money,” Dad grumbles under his breath.
There’s no point in arguing with them any longer.
I’m done. Checked out. Fucking finished.
Because if this is how they feel about my major, what are they going to think of me when I tell them I’m gay?
“Cheesecake, anyone?!” Mom suddenly asks with a forced smile, standing from the table like some sort of Stepford wife in her vintage flowered dress and soft blonde curls.
“Thank you for dinner, Mrs. Livingston. It was truly a five-star experience, but I think we’re going to skip dessert and head home. Classes start tomorrow, so we need our rest.”
My knight in shining armor.
Again.
I need to get out of here, and I’m so thankful Shane can recognize that.
We exchange hollowgoodbyesandsee you soons, but I don’t plan on it. Why would I want to be around people who don’t support my decisions or even like me?
“Gah! They’re absolutely infuriating!” I whisper-shout after we finally escape and step outside into the cool evening air. “And she wonders why I stayed with Gran and Bo for spring break.” Desperate to leave, I rush down the steep stairs from hell as if the house itself exorcised me.
“Toby, slow down!” Shane calls out behind me.
