The Truth About Love

twelve

Despite Steve clearly being unhappy with the decision you had made to get a second job, you did it anyway. You ended up getting a second job at a 24-hour diner. You took the overnight shift, with the promise from the owner that you'd be able to do homework on the slow times.

Steve really tried to respect and support you in your decision, but as he watched you become more exhausted than he knew a person could be, he knew that he couldn't stand by and watch you destroy yourself. (Especially when you ended up working a straight 36 hours due to Thanksgiving.)

It was the first day of December and tuition was due in a week. Steve had seen your budget spreadsheet and saw that you would be just shy of making your tuition and knew that you wouldn't get paid in time to pay it in full. Steve decided that you could use your savings to pay for the semester after next and he would cover this semester. With the decision made and having not talked to you at all about it, Steve when to the finance office at the college and paid for your tuition. He felt good about it but spent the rest of the day thinking about how to tell you what he did.

After locking up the coffee shop, you turned and smiled at Steve, who sat in his car waiting to take you to the diner.

"Hey," you greeted as you slipped into the passenger seat.

"Hey," Steve pressed out a smile.

You tilted your head as you furrowed your brows, you could tell that something was off. His smile wasn't real and his hands seemed to be nervously gripping the steering wheel. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah," he cleared his throat, "why wouldn't everything be?"

"Well, yeah, you're just acting a bit strange."

Steve sighed, knowing he couldn't fool you. "Just, please, don't be mad."

"What did you do?"

"I saw your budgeting spreadsheet and I know that you still won't make tuition for next semester."

"Steve, if you—"

"I paid your tuition for next semester. Now, you can quit your job at the diner and save for the semester after."

Your anger was growing. How could he? Did he really think you were that helpless? That poor? That you couldn't do it on your own?

"Stop the car," you demanded, in a scarily quiet tone.

"Y/N—"

"I said stop the car!"

Steve pulled over and you quickly got out of the car. You started marching down the street toward the diner, while it began to snow.

"Wait! Y/N!" Steve called after you, having parked the car to follow you on foot. "Please! Can we talk about this?"

"No! I can't be late for my shift," you were angry, clearly. Tears of anger and frustration were even beginning to form and trickle down your face.

"Y/N—" Steve had caught up. He reached for your arm to turn you around but you quickly yanked it away when you felt his fingers brush against your arm.

"Leave me alone, Steve! I need to work and process what you just did."

He rushed around you, placing himself in your path and forcing you to stop. "I paid your tuition to try and help you. You're wearing yourself out."

"Don't you think I get a say when I'm worn out? I am used to working hard—twice, even three times as hard as everyone else. It's how I was raised, it's what I've had to do to survive. And, it's honestly something I know that I am good at. I am a hard worker. I pride myself in that. And you... you just took that away from me. You just paid it like it was nothing because you have all this money and I don't! I don't need every nice thing just handed to me. I don't need the easy way out!"