Page 32 of One Lovely Lie

I went through classes like a zombie today, one subject to another, absolutely not present the way I usually am. I snagged a blunt from Avery earlier, and not even getting high is helping me clear my head.

I can’t believe Daniel and I fought like that. I know I let my temper get the best of me and Daniel was right. I know I was being unreasonable. I know I was projecting all my own fucked-up shit onto him, and I know I was in the wrong. I’m the reason we’re fighting and I’m the reason we still haven’t made up.

It’s just that my father has been calling more often, pushing Germany, not giving up, and being completely insistent about this new path I need to follow. Daniel had a point, though. I want my trust fund, so I’m putting up with it. I’ve earned that money through the treatment I endured growing up. I know that if I push just a little bit harder, I can talk my way out of Germany, but it feels like an invisible noose is being wrapped around my neck and I’m helpless to cut myself free.

Overall, I’m so fucking stressed. What I have going on with Daniel was supposed to bring us closer together, but it hasn’t. We haven’t fought like this in forever. I’ve never told him to fuck off.

I’m ruining everything, but I can’t stop. I’m afraid this is going to mess us up in the long run, but I just want him too much. I want him like…

Nope. Bury that shit. Bury all the shit that’s trying to crawl out of my head. Take another hit and just forget about it.

But I can’t. Maybe it’s because I’m high or maybe it’s because I can’t fucking take this anymore, but I find myself calling the one person I like the least in this world.

He answers after one ring.

“Father.”

“What did you do?”

I chuckle humorlessly as I shake my head, taking another drag of the blunt as I smile. “What makes you think I did something?”

“Well, you’re you, aren’t you? What have you fucked up this time?”

Ouch. That would hurt if I wasn’t high enough to brush it off. That would hurt if that wasn’t the least harmful thing he’s ever said to me. That would hurt if I wasn’t just so fucking numb right now.

“Look, I’m not going to Germany after I graduate. I don’t want to.”

He sounds exasperated on the other end of the line as if it’s a chore dealing with his only son. “Do you really think you have any say in this?”

“What about Harvard with Daniel?” I argue. “What am I supposed to do without that?”

“Daniel? He’ll be better off without you there to corrupt his college experience. Do you know that he’s actually excited to intern at Levingson this break?”

I grit my teeth and almost crush the blunt in my hand. “I heard.”

“Why can’t you be like that? Why can’t you be more like Daniel? He’s actually proud of his family.”

“I don’t know, Dad,” I groan because it’s the same conversation every time. “Maybe it’s because I’m such a screwup?”

“You can leave the self-pity for another time,” he sighs and I can almost imagine that he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, rolling his eyes, and glancing at his watch wondering how much longer this conversation will last.

I take a deep, calm drag of my blunt. I can do this. I can be like Daniel. It can’t be that difficult. I can have a pleasant conversation with my father. “So, what are we doing for the break?”

“We? Your mother and I are going to spend a relaxing vacation in Fiji.”

My eyes widen. “And what am I supposed to do?”

“Stay at the dorms, of course. We don’t trust you alone in the townhouse after that party you threw sophomore year.”

I can’t believe this. He wants to avoid me that badly? He’d rather whisk my alcoholic mother away to some deserted island than see his son?

This conversation is over. I shouldn’t have called him in the first place. I don’t know why I’m so fucking stupid.

“Okay,” I mumble, and then just for shits and giggles and to see what happens, I say, “Love you, Dad.”

He hangs up.

I pretend that my heart doesn’t crack just a bit at the rejection. I take another drag and hope that I can just whisk this under the rug and act like it doesn’t affect me.

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