Page 19 of Tell Me When It's Over

It’s Mia who cuts back in. “If you two are staying, maybe I can show you around the campus. It isn’t that big, and the uniforms aren’t so bad. They’re white and green.” She gives me a comforting smile. “You’d look great in one.”

Harry turns his focus to her. “Perhaps we shouldn’t plan too far in advance. We don’t know what will happen.”

Mia frowns. “Dad, if they’re staying, they’ll need to enroll her into school, o

r she’ll get behind.”

He sighs and puts down his spoon, pushing his soup away. I don’t think that’s a good thing, so I remain quiet while Mom chooses to intervene. “She’s right, Harry. If you want to get to know your daughter, we should talk about the next steps. I think I’ve found a job nearby that would allow us to move out of the hotel we’ve been staying at and into a place not too far from here.”

My eyes widen at the news. “What?”

She ignores me. “I’d hate for her education to be delayed after everything she’s done to keep her grades up. She has dreams of attending Stanford, you know.”

I gape at her. I had no idea she even remembered that. Sure, I told her at least three times whenever I would hear people talk about college at school, but I never thought she actually listened to me.

And what job is she talking about? She only has experience waitressing, and I doubt any of her previous employers would give her good references because the longest position she held was a year and a half. She bounces around too much to make likeable connections.

“Stanford, huh?” Harry sounds a little interested in that, which makes my tense shoulder ease a little. He wipes his mouth off and leans back in his chair. “What are you considering studying?”

I only hesitate a moment. “Well—”

The front door opens abruptly, and slams shut, echoing in the large foyer. All our attention is drawn to the noisy entrance of Kyler as he appears in the archway.

His eyes instantly land on me for a moment, unreadable, before turning to everyone else that’s staring at him. “What’d I miss?”

Harry’s eyes narrow. “I asked you to be home half an hour ago. Where have you been?”

Kyler smiles and walks to the seat on the other side of the table. “I’m here now, isn’t that what’s important?” He plops down onto the chair and ignores the glare from his father and frown from his sister.

Mom says, “Leighton was just about to tell us what she’s interested in studying at college.”

His eyes go back to mine, narrowing slightly. “Isn’t it a little early for you to be thinking about that? Shouldn’t you be having fun while you’re young or something?”

“Just because you were never keen on having your life together doesn’t mean she can’t,” his father snips coolly. My eyes widen at the harshness to his tone, making me sink further into my seat. Isn’t that unfair? I know as much as any fan of Single Division does—Kyler Bishop is a huge name, with sold out tours everywhere even as a solo singer. He’s hardworking, seemingly always busy. What more could his dad want?

Kyler is quiet for a stretch of time, bathing the room in awkward silence. Nobody is eating, and even Mom is watching the former boy bander with raised brows until he chooses to speak again. This time, his eyes are on me in a way that doesn’t make me completely uncomfortable, feeding into the conversation his father approves of. “So, what do you want to go to college for?”

An apology is ready to escape my lips, but I know it wouldn’t be wise to say it in front of his father, who’s clearly still fuming over his son’s remark. “I’ve been thinking about public relations or journalism.”

I’m not sure why surprise colors Kyler’s features, but his brows arch. I’d be self-conscious over his thoughts if the corners of his lips didn’t curl up slightly, like he was entertaining the idea. Maybe even impressed like his father is over my Stanford dreams.

“PR, huh?” Mr. Bishop asks, his focus no longer on his son. His eyes are still sort of hollow, so I don’t hold them for long. “What makes you want to study that?”

Mom answers for me. “Oh, we used to have a neighbor who talked about working PR for some big child actor back in the day. Personally, I think she made it all up, but Leighton ate up every story.”

Face heating, I grip my spoon tighter. “I don’t think Ms. Wynona was making it up. She had pictures and everything.”

Mom sighs in exasperation. “Yes, but what was the actor’s name? Nothing memorable, certainly.”

Mr. Bishop chuckles, but it isn’t in amusement. I recognize the condescension in his tone when he says, “Clearly, she wasn’t very good at her job then. Hardly someone to aspire to be like.”

When I glance up, I notice Mia’s frown directed at her father. Her eyes find mine and fill with sympathy, but I don’t want it. She shouldn’t feel sorry for me because of his opinion. I’m used to people not approving of me.

It’s Kyler who cuts into the conversation again, his voice surprisingly comforting. “If there are any colleges that offer great PR programs, you’ll find it here.”

Blinking, I offer him a grateful, yet surprised smile. Maybe he doesn’t hate me as much as I think he does. Or maybe he’s just telling me that to get to his dad. That seems more likely. Smile slipping, I refocus on my soup.

“Well, maybe it is too soon for that,” Mom relents, shifting the conversation. “We should really think about where she finishes her schooling here first. I’ve looked into some of the public schools, but I’m not impressed.”

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