Good Girl Complex(Avalon Bay #1)(78)

“Hey,” I greet them, draping my purse strap over the chair. “Sorry if I kept you waiting. I was having lunch with some friends in town—”

I halt when I read the expression of impatience on my father’s face. He’s dressed in a suit, one sleeve pushed up to expose his watch. I get the message. Loud and clear. He’s missing meetings and who knows what other world-altering events to tend to his errant offspring. How dare I make him deign to parent.

Then there’s Mother Dearest, who’s tapping her manicured nails on her leather Chanel clutch as if I’m also holding her up. Honestly, I couldn’t say what the hell she does all day. I’m sure there’s a call with a caterer somewhere in her schedule. Her weeks are an endless haze of decisions like chicken or fish.

For a split second, as the two of them glare at me with annoyance and disdain, I see the template of their lives superimposed on my future, and it stitches up my side. My throat closes. A full-blown panic explodes through my nervous system. I imagine this is how drowning must feel.

I can’t live this way anymore.

“I’m glad you’re here,” I start, only for Dad to hold up his hand. Kindly shut up, the hand says. Okay then.

“I believe you owe us an apology, young lady.” Sometimes I wonder if my father uses the term because, for a moment, he’s forgotten my name.

“Really, you’ve gone too far this time,” my mother agrees. “Have you any idea the embarrassment you’ve caused?”

“Here is what’s going to happen.” Dad doesn’t look at me, instead scrolling through emails on his phone. All of this is a prepared speech that doesn’t include my participation. “You will apologize to Preston and to his parents for this episode. After which they’ve agreed to the resumption of your relationship. Then you’re coming home for the weekend while we evaluate how to proceed. I’m afraid we’ve allowed you too much latitude lately.”

I stare at him.

When I realize he’s being serious, I cough out an incredulous laugh. “Um, no. I can’t do that.”

“Excuse me.” My mother adjusts her scarf, a sort of nervous tic she gets when she’s acutely aware she can’t snap at me in front of quite so many witnesses. “Your father isn’t giving you a choice, Mackenzie.”

Well, at least one of them knows my name. I try to imagine them picking out baby names. If ever there was a moment in time they looked forward to a child, it was then, right?

“I won’t get back together with Preston.” My tone invites no argument.

So, of course, I get one.

“Why not?” Mom wails in exasperation. “Don’t be a fool, sweetheart. That boy will make a loyal, upstanding husband.”

“Loyal?” I snort loud enough to draw gazes from a few neighboring tables.

Dad frowns at me. “Keep your voice down. You’re attracting attention.”

“Trust me when I say Preston is not loyal to anyone but himself. I’ll spare you the details.” Like how he was a cheating prick who was probably messing around since the moment we got together. How in some ways he saved us both, because I was no saint either. “But suffice it to say we don’t have a connection anymore.” I hesitate. Then I think, fuck it. “Besides, I’m seeing someone else.”

“Who?” Mom asks blankly, as if Preston were the last man on earth.

“A townie,” I reply, because I know it will drive her nuts.

“Enough.”

I jump when my father smacks his phone down on the table. Ha. Who’s attracting attention now?

Realizing what he did, Dad lowers his voice. He speaks through clenched teeth. “This disobedience stops now. I will not entertain your provocations any further. You will apologize. You will take the boy back. And you will fall in line. Or you can kiss your allowance and credit cards goodbye.” His shoulders shake with restrained rage as I now have his complete attention. “So help me, I will cut you off and you can see exactly how cold and dark this path can get.”

I don’t doubt him for a second. I’ve always known he was ruthless where I’m concerned. No coddling. No special treatment. That used to scare me.

“Tell you what,” I say, pulling my purse off the back of my chair, “here’s my counteroffer: no.”

His eyes, the same dark shade of green as my own, gleam with disapproval. “Mackenzie,” he warns.

I reach into my bag. “Do what you must, but I’m tired of living in fear of disappointing you both. I’m sick of never living up to your ideal. I have had my absolute fill of killing myself to make you happy and constantly falling short. I’m not ever going to be the daughter you want, and I’m done trying.”

I find what I’m looking for in my purse. For the first time my life, my parents are speechless as they watch me fill out a check.

I slide it across the table to my father. “Here. This ought to cover what you spent for the first semester. I’ve decided my interests lie elsewhere.”

With nothing left to say—and certain this burst of madness and courage will not last—I hold my breath as I get up from the table and walk out, not sparing a glance behind me.

Just like that, I’m a college dropout.





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE