Wild (The Ivy Chronicles #3)(65)

She cocked her head. “You don’t seem very capable of doing that yourself these days, Georgia.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that this was my life. That she couldn’t dictate my future, but then she added in succinct tones, “Let me be clear: This is not a suggestion, Georgia. You’re done at Dartford. We are no longer paying your way unless you do this. Your tuition. Your living expenses. It’s all gone. Oh, and your car isn’t in your name. That’s gone, too. Insurance. Everything. If you go your own way, you’re paying your own way.”

I sat there, the air sucked out of me, stunned.

Mom tsked. “Don’t look so miserable. This is for the best. There was a time when you cared about what I thought. You wanted to please me and listened to me.”

I nodded. I still did, but pleasing her was harder. Impossible maybe. Nothing I ever did seemed to be enough. And she didn’t really mean listen . . . she meant obey.

She continued, “You’ll see, Georgia. Harris will be home in two years, and he’s already expressed to his mother that he can still see the two of you settling down someday. Isn’t that great? You’ll be here waiting for him after he graduates from Dartford.”

I stared at my mother in disbelief. This was who she thought I was. A girl who would live at home, waiting for Harris to take her back on his terms when he was ready?

Mom thought that was good enough for me. That I couldn’t possibly want more? Or deserve more?

She rose from the chair. Lifting it, she slid it back beneath Amber’s desk. “I’ll let you think it over. I know you’ll come around.”

Because she had just taken away my freedom. And what freedom was that really, anyway, if it could be seized with a snap of her fingers? I never really had it to begin with, I realized. I was at the mercy of her whims.

The enormity of returning to Dartford and supporting myself—covering tuition, room, and board all on my own—overwhelmed me. Oh, and without a car or insurance. If I left here, I’d be on my own. An orphan, essentially.

“I’ll think it over,” I agreed, my lips hugging the words numbly.

“Of course, you will.” Patting my shoulder, she turned and walked from the room.

As soon as she left, I fell back on the bed, every part of me suddenly as heavy as lead.





Chapter 21

THE DAY AFTER MY conversation with Mom she left the application forms on my bed for Muskogee Community College. It was her not-so-subtle way of moving things along.

A week passed before I forced myself to start filling out the paperwork. Something withered and died in me with every swipe and scratch of my pen across the paper. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to sign my signature on the last page. Instead, I shoved the application forms in a drawer in my room.

But out of sight wasn’t out of my mind. I couldn’t forget they were there. Nor would Mom let me. She reminded me every day that there was a July twentieth deadline.

“Maybe you don’t want to finish college,” she suggested over breakfast one morning.

I looked up from my cereal, watching her warily, wondering if this was some new tactic, because surely she wanted me to finish college. She was an educator for God’s sake. A principal.

Mom shrugged. “You can live here and work at the bank. Of course, I’d like you to complete your degree. I tell all my students that, but college isn’t for everyone. Even I know that.” She lifted the coffeepot to refill her mug. “And how important will it be for you to have a degree once you marry Harris anyway? I’m sure you’ll stay home after the wedding. Start a family.”

Oh. My. God. I looked down at my bowl and spooned another mouthful of Cheerios into my mouth so I didn’t have to tell her just what I thought about that idea. When had my life turned into this world of suck?

I HELD BACK MY tears through the phone call with Pepper. I didn’t need her to know how upset I truly was. I tried to sound practical.

“I can’t afford tuition, Pepper . . . and all my other expenses on top of that.”

“You can live at Mulvaney’s. You don’t have to pay rent, and we can float your utilities for a while. You use so little anyway and it’s all rolled into the business.”

“I appreciate that.” And it really was generous, but that still left tuition and all my other expenses. I could get a job, but that still left tuition and books. It was a lot to wrap my head around. Mom knew that. She expected me to fall in line. I rubbed the center of my forehead where it was beginning to ache. I’d taken a run after breakfast but the endorphins had done little to alleviate the pressure building up in my skull.

“Look. I’m not saying I’m not coming back. I just need time to figure out a plan . . . how I can make it work without my parents supporting me. I might not be coming back until the spring.”

“Georgia, you know if you drop out it will be harder to get back into Dartford. Have you called Dr. Chase?”

“Yes. I explained I had a family emergency and wouldn’t be back for the summer. He was very understanding.”

“Maybe he can help you, if you explain . . .”

“We’ll see,” I say, the ache in my head unbearable now. I rubbed harder, beating the heel of my palm to my head a few times as if that might kill the pain. “I have to go. It’s dinnertime.”