• dynasty • | gnr | kiss | bon jovi |

•3•

"God, this Merlot is just divine. Did you have some of the wine, dear?"

Mother's posture is unnaturally perfect as she swirls the deep red liquid in her glass. It happens to match the tone of her lipstick and her dress, as well as the thick steak sitting on the table in front of her.

"Yes, it's wonderful," I agree and raise my glass to Jon. His brow is furrowed in concentration, but once he notices my gaze he smiles.

"So son," Begins Jon's father from the opposite end of the table, "when's the first practice of the season? I'm sure you're anxious to get back on the field, since you're back from camp."

Jon nods, politely swallowing what's in his mouth and folding his cloth napkin. "Of course, I'm sure I'll take us to state again this year. Our line up is impeccable."

Jon's mother smiles sweetly, tossing a ringlet of brown hair over her shoulder. "And I'm sure you're excited to start cheering again this season, sweetheart?"

I fight the urge to frown at her and pick at my steak a little. "Elated. I'm just worried that it won't be enough for Harvard, you know how they like their students to be involed. I think I need another extra-curricular, but I'm torn on what."

Daddy is sitting at the head of the longtable, and though it seats up to twenty at once we're all seated on one end. He smiles at me approvingly, leaning back so that our housekeeper, Liza, can pour him more wine.

"You're an intelligent girl, you'll come up with something." Daddy's stern features frighten me more than a little, but as long I keep within his expectations, no harm will come.

Jon takes another bite of steak. "Well, you're the smartest girl I know. Why don't you go to the tutoring center at school and see if they need any more help? With all the... new students coming in, I'm sure they could use you."

Jon's mother frowns and sets her wine down. I sigh inwardly, pushing my plate away. I'd hoped the conversation wouldn't turn to this, but it was inevitable.

"Yes, how dreadful," Mrs. Bongiovi began. "All those... hoodlums coming here to corrupt our children. St. Marcus's is no place for these people!"

"I think that's a good idea, Jon," I clear my throat and stare at my hands.

"Eat, dear," Mother urges me. "You skipped breakfast."

That's because all I can think about is Brookyln, Mr. Rose, and Stan's mocking laughter.

It would be easier to forget about him if he wasn't there every time I turned around, surrounded by his group of scantily clad rocker friends. It would be even better if he weren't in half of my classes, but unfortunately I'd gotten stiffed.

Mr. Bongiovi stops eating to look at me. "Don't worry your pretty little head about Harvard, Calliope. Even if they don't accept you, what's the matter? All you'll ever have is already yours, is it not?"

And, here we go again. It's no surprise that my parents have my future planned out for me, but it just makes me angry that Jon buys into it too. Doesn't he wanna be something more than... a guy in a business suit? There has to be more to life than business meetings and banging secretaries.

"I suppose so, sir," I say quietly.

"But of course we won't be married for a while," Jon says, smiling at me. "I'll want to be enrolled in Dartmouth by the time we even begin to make plans, and Callie will be at Harvard."

I've explained to him before why talk like this makes me uncomfortable, but he still doesn't understand.

"May I be excused?" I ask my mother quickly.