Page 8 of Terms + Conditions
“It’s not that hard to understand.”
“Josh, you were in an arranged marriage.” Michaela puts a large emphasis on the arranged part as if I’m not aware of what I’ve been going through for the past ten years. “That’s not—it’s not something that just happens!”
“Howdidit happen?” Finn takes a tug of his beer.
Now that’s a long story.
CHAPTER FOUR
THEN
November 2015
A SOFT KNOCK ON the classroom door diverts my mom’s attention from the paperwork in her hands, and a smile replaces her concentrated frown. She jumps from her chair and rushes to embrace me, squeezing me extra tight. I may only be three hours from home, but I haven’t come back much since starting at Chadwick, embracing my newfound freedom in more ways than one. Each time I make it back to Bridgeport, I come with stories of my adventures, making sure to keep the stupid things out of them—you know how it is. But this time, I have no choice. I have to come clean about the stupid thing I did.
A very, very stupid thing, indeed.
“Joshua, what are you doing here? You’re not on break, are you? Oh dear, did I miss something?” Mom shoots question after question before glancing at the calendar on the wall.
“No, Mom. No, I just missed you.”
Her warm hand cradles the side of my face. “Oh, Josh, you’re sweet.” Her lips lift briefly in the corners before she drops her hand. “But I know that’s not the real reason you’re here.”
I chew on my bottom lip, refusing to meet her stare. I find the painted cement wall much more interesting.
“Come on.” She leads me toward her desk, making sure to shut the door behind us. She sits down and motions for me to sit in the wooden chair to the side of her desk—it’s the same chair I used to sit in at the end of the day in middle school. I would do my homework while Mom finished grading papers or putting together the next day’s presentation…It used to be a comfortable place, but now it makes me sick to my stomach knowing what I’m about to tell her. Mom leans back in her chair, twiddling with the pencil from her gradebook. When she speaks, her voice is calm. Whatever I’m about to tell her can’t bethatbad because her son could never do anythingthatbad. “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?”
“Joshua Isaiah Davis, it’s a mother’s job to know when something is bothering her children, and something is bothering you. So, you’re going to sit there and tell me what it is.”
I sigh. “I fucked up.”
“Language, Josh.”
“Well, I don’t know any other way to describe it.”
She laughs. “Oh come on, Josh. Surely, it can’t be that bad.”
“I’m about to be expelled.”
Mom sits up a little straighter. Her smile falls. Her face stoic and unreadable. Honestly, the lack of a bigger reaction is worse than anything I imagined. “Expelled?”
“I got into some trouble and—”
“What kind of trouble, Josh?”
I take a deep breath. “The fraternity. Some of the guys got a little carried away with initiations and…” I tug at the ends of my hair. “I know it was wrong, but we all went through it. All of us. But this year…things got out of hand.”
The disappointment in her eyes makes me sick. “I raised you better than this.”
“Mom, I know…”
She narrows her eyes. “What didyoudo?”
“I wasn’t part of the worst of it. I promise. I just had one of them as an errand boy; I couldn’t bring myself to do what the others were doing. But when they did the paddling…” I can still hear the initiate’s screams echo around me The first hits never seem that bad, and then you let your guard down. “I never did it.”
“Josh, how could you do this?”
