Page 31 of Don't Love the Boy Next Door
“Mom, Dad,” I say in the lightest tone I can. “How many times do I have to tell you my live streams are not a waste of time? I’m building a following and I can have a future in this.”
They exchange a glance. “What you’re doing is nonsense,” Dad says. “You need to go to college and get a degree, graduate, and have a good job.”
This time, I do roll my eyes. Because it’s not the first time we’re having this conversation. I kind of forgot that this is one of the reasons I moved my live streams over to Katie’s. Mom and Dad just don’t get it. They’re so old fashioned they think all jobs are nine to five, in a stuffy office. They don’t know there are so many more options out there. I mean, I tell them all the time, but they don’t get it or care enough to understand.
I stand. “Thanks for the talk, but I really need to get to school.”
“Genevieve.” Mom stops me at the door.
I stifle a groan. I’ve told her over and over not to call me by my real name. I hate it.
Turning around, I find both parents with that same strict look on their faces. “Yeah?”
“We don’t want to hear you staying up late again or we’ll take your toys away,” Mom says.
I seriously want to tear my hair out. “They’renottoys. But you know what? You won’t find me staying up late anymore. I’m going back to Katie’s.”
“Genevieve—”
I hold up my hands. “You just don’t get it. And that’s fine. Just please don’t try to stop me from doing something I love.” I turn toward the door.
“Genevieve.”
“It’s Phoenix.” I face them. “I’ll try to visit you and the kids as much as I can. Sorry, but I think I just need my space now. See you guys later.” I walk out the door.
I thought things could change, that my parents would actually accept that I’m trying to build a future for myself here. But nope. Not yet at least. Maybe one day.
***
The school halls are packed with kids, which is normal, but I’m feeling suffocated this morning. Maybe because I keep thinking about what my parents said. But whatever. I’m not going to let them or anyone hold me back from doing something I love. Maybe they’ll come to understand it one day. Maybe not. I just hope this doesn’t strain things between us.
Katie’s rummaging around in her locker. I make my way over to her, pushing through some kids blocking my way, when a paper is shoved in my face.
Lifting my eyes, I take in the owner of that paper. Ethan Palmer. He’s wearing a bright smile on his face, which just makes my blood boil. What’s he so happy about?
“Move,” I say through clenched teeth.
He waves the paper. “I added something to the report. You might want to read it before we present it to the class.”
I shove past him. He follows. “We’re not adding anything to the report.”
“I already did, and I’ll be handing it to Mrs. Holden. So unless you want to look like an idiot in front of the entire class, I suggest you read it.”
I stop and glare at him. “The report wasperfect.”
He leans against the wall, over me, and I get a whiff of that jerk smell again. Seriously. What’s with that? And why does it smell so freakin’ good?
“It’s perfect now,” he says. “Definitely A+ material.”
I open my mouth to respond, but he bends close and I yank my head back. “If you would have worked on the report with me like we discussed, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
I push at his chest to get him away from me, but he’s like a stone wall. “There’s no mess. We’ll be handing inmyreport.”
“Nope.” He squints, thinking. “I wonder what Mrs. Holden will say when I tell her you didn’t cooperate. She might even fail you.”
Jerk.
Even though I don’t really care about school, failing is a whole other story.
