Page 30 of The Other Half

I huff a quick laugh. “Seriously? Yeah they do. All the guys there smoke weed. Some of them even do cocaine and other stuff. Just because they have money doesn’t mean they aren’t idiots.”

She rolls her eyes. “Well, I know they wouldn’t bring it to school.”

I heard plenty of stories at that school about people bringing water bottles of vodka to class, along with other stuff. Just because it was a catholic school doesn’t mean everyone there was a saint. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes. “I forgive you. I’m just worried, you’ve never given into peer pressure like this before. I don’t want it to become a habit.”

“I know. It was stupid, I just wasn’t thinking of the consequences.”

She nods and gets off the bed. “I won’t tell your father about this, but if anything like this happens again I will.”

“Thank you.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding and she leaves the room, with the stub of a joint still in her hand.

* * *

Every Sunday we have family dinner. When I was a kid we sat down together every night, but eventually it dwindled down to once a week, which is fine with me. It’s usually awkward anyway. It mostly consists of forced conversations between my dad and I, and him and my mom giving each other dirty looks across the table. The only time they seem to enjoy talking to each other is when they’re about to buy something new, like a new boat, or a new property they can rent out.

I grab a plate and load it up with quinoa and green beans, the only other option is steak which I don’t like. My parents don’t really like to cook so we almost always have takeout, which isn’t bad but it gets old. I carry my plate into the dining room and set it down. My parents always sit on either end of the large, oak table, and I sit in between them. The table is ridiculously big for a family of three that rarely has company.

“You don’t want steak?” My dad grumbles as he takes a bite of his.

“No, I don’t like it.” I’ve told him this at least twenty times.

His eyes scan my plate of food. “You don’t need to eat that much rice.”

My mom butts in, “it’s not rice, it’s quinoa. It’s healthy.”

My dad shakes his head. “It’s still carbs.”

Oh yes, God forbid I eat carbs. My dad has a beer belly but he never watches what he eats, I don’t know why he’s so concerned with my diet. “We need to talk about your new school, Oakley,” he says after swallowing his food.

My heart rate begins to pick up. “Okay…”

“I don’t know if it’s the best place for you. Your mom tells me you’ve been dealing with some peer pressure?” He raises his eyebrows condescendingly.

I thought she wasn’t going to tell him? He doesn’t seem very mad, so she must have kept it vague. I look over at her, but she doesn’t make eye contact with me, of course. “There haven’t been any problems,” I say.

“Well your mom says some of your friends have been trying to get you to do things you shouldn’t.” He levels me with a stern look.

I take a deep breath, trying to figure out what to say next. “I stopped talking to that person. It’s fine.”

He nods. “I just want you to make good choices so you don’t hurt your chances of getting into Angelwood. Next year you can do all the partying you want, and I’m sure you will.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, relieved that he isn’t more angry. “Yes, sir.” I don’t really plan on doing any partying. Both of my parents have asked me throughout high school why I don’t throw a party at our house. Neither of them have any qualms about underage drinking, in fact they encourage it. They offer me alcohol all the time. But I guess maybe he’s worried about me doing other drugs?

I quickly finish my dinner and thank them for the food.

“We’re proud of you, Oakley. Your grades have improved,” Dad says as I get up from the table. Did I hear him correctly? He almost never compliments me.

“Thanks,” I reply.

He nods and gives me a hint of a smile. “Just don’t let anything, or anyone, get in the way of your plans, understand?”

I nod, “yes sir.” He turns his attention back to the phone in his hand and I walk into the kitchen to put my plate in the sink. I wonder how much my mom knows, and I wonder what all she told him.

Chapter 26

Oliver

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