Page 64 of Overachiever
“Are you sure it’s okay to bring a girlfriend?”
“Ha!” He puts his hands on my shoulders, grinning down at me. “Mom has called twice today and then texted me to remind me to invite you. And Mom never texts.” I’m left with a quick kiss before he walks back toward his truck. “If you back out, she might show up here.”
“So that’s where you get your stalker tendencies. Does she think she’s funny too?” I tease.
“No, that’s Dad. Be ready for all the Dad jokes.”
Once he leaves to spend the day with the guys, I make the short drive to the college. It feels great to be back on campus. With all the time I’ve spent here, it’s like a second home. The place is pretty empty except for the student services building that houses the advisor’s offices and financial aid department. It’s buzzing with students registering, making their tuition payments, and getting their schedules.
My attention is drawn to some of the younger ones who are obviously coming in as freshman. The expression of excitement and trepidation on their faces makes me smile because I remember being in their shoes. After pointing one girl in the right direction to find the financial aid department, I step into the office and scrawl my name on the sign-up sheet for my advisor.
My name is called quicker than I anticipated, but it isn’t to see the advisor. The clerk, an older lady with a kind voice, pulls me aside. “You’ll need to reschedule your appointment once you get everything worked out with financial aid.”
Her words confuse me for a moment. “Financial aid? For what? My tuition’s been paid. I buy my own textbooks.”
Her lips press together in reluctance. “By our records, your tuition hasn’t been paid.”
“That’s…there must be some mistake. It’s set up on auto payments from my education account.”
“The payment was returned due to insufficient funds. You’ll have to visit the financial aid office and they can give you further options to explore to fund this semester. I’m sorry.”
My mind is racing, but I’m not in a panic because this must be a mistake. “I understand. It’s probably a bank error or something. I’ll get it straightened out. Thank you.”
Exiting the building, I wander over to a picnic table and pull out my phone. Dad and I talk so rarely—by his choice—that I hate having to call him, but there’s no other option. He handles the education account and payments. My calls to him usually go to voicemail. That’s what I expect this time too, but instead he picks up.
Without a hello of any sort he says, “I wondered when I’d be hearing from you.”
That familiar angry tone drops a rock into my stomach. “I was just calling because there’s some mix-up at school with the tuition payment.”
“There’s no mix-up. I denied the payment.”
Ice crawls down my spine, and my next word comes out in a whisper. “Why?”
“What did you do this summer, Remee?”
“I-I was in Florida.”
“Your mother told me you’re seeing some boy and you lost a lucrative grant because of him. Do you think you can just throw away a grant worth thousands of dollars because I’ll pay anyway?”
“No, it wasn’t like that.”
“I don’t want to hear it. You want to be like your sister, you can pay your own way like her.” The derision in his voice makes me ache for Rachel more than for myself when he spits out the words. “Find some waitress job.” You’d think she was prostituting on a corner. The thought pops in my head of what he’d think about her selling nudes if he sees waitressing as demeaning, and a giggle slips out of my mouth, despite the circumstances.
“I’m glad you’re so amused. I’ve closed down your education account. You won’t see another penny from me.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he sneers. “Is that all you have to say?”
He wants me to grovel and beg him to reconsider. Maybe promise never to talk to “that boy” again, but that’s not going to happen. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. One chance, that’s all you get with him. Part of me has always known this day would come. I’ve never been under any illusion he loved me or Rachel. Even conditional love seems to be a stretch for him and Mom. For the first time I can remember, instead of that making me want to try harder for their approval, it makes me angry. Just like Rachel, he won’t bother communicating with me again after this, so this is my only chance.
“No, that’s not all. Someday when you’re old and alone, remember me and Rachel. Think about all the times we tried to love you. And when you think about picking up the phone in the hopes of reconnecting, do me one favor. Don’t.”
The only response is a click in my ear.
The realization of what just happened pours over me, but I don’t let myself melt down until after I’ve talked to the financial aid office. It isn’t until then that my options become clear. Go over my head in debt with student loans, or take a year off to work and save money to go back next year. I’m glad I have enough in savings to cover my rent and necessities for about six months, but all those extra classes, all that hard work to get ahead. All for nothing.
It’s my worst fear come true.
