“Iris, must be nice running off to another coast all summer without a word. Classes start soon- or did you forget about our travel plans?”
After a month of silence, his usual confidence wavered slightly.
I still had nothing to say.
Then our dad’s voice took over.
“Sweetie! How’s the East Coast treating you? Henry just told me about your fight. Don’t be too hard on him- we’ll sort this out when you’re back. And guess what? His college letter came today! Yours must be on its way. When are you coming home to celebrate? I have something special planned…”
Since my mom married her six years ago, he’d always tried to be a perfect dad figure. I couldn’t bring myself to cut him off, so I listened.
“Actually, we’re keeping it low–key. I’m busy practicing my violin – we’ll probably just do a virtual celebration. I might not be back until
move–in…”
Henry snatched the phone back.
His breathing was heavy; I could feel his anger even through the static.
“I’m trying here, Iris. How long are you going to keep sulking? If you want to play it this way, fine. I won’t wait around for you to join me in California.”
When silence was his only answer, he added coldly: “Just don’t come crying to me with your violin when you regret this.”
I ended the call and blocked this number too.
Later, Mom called – my acceptance letter had arrived.
My Dad was stunned to see the Juilliard name where they’d expected UMN.
“Honey, when did you decide this? Without talking to us? Does Henry know? His grandma was just asking about your letter…”
Dad’s worried face appeared on screen. “Sweetie, that’s quite far from California. Are you sure about this? And you’ve never lived that far from
home.”
I tried explaining about the school’s reputation, about having my best friend there.
They weren’t buying it.
“Is this because of a fight with your stepbrother? You can’t choose a college over an argument.”
“What happens when you two make up? You can’t just transfer across the country.”
“You couldn’t even last two weeks at camp without calling him…”
I had to stop this.
“Henry has someone else now. Whatever we’re not blood–related, I need distance. Mom, Dad, I need to purse my dream, not revolve around his hockey dreams. Please support this. And please don’t tell anyone yet.”
They exchanged that parent look, fell silent, then finally agreed.
“Okay,” Mom said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “We just want you home soon. It’s your last summer here before college.”
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Chapter 11
Chapter 11
