[Highest ranking: #72 in General Fiction]
Spring semester is here!
Classes are back in session but will the girls be able to handle the struggle or will they get taken down like 'hay fever'?
College wasn't easy before but throw in a proposal, newbo...
Trevor slowly lowered his body on the navy loveseat with suspicion clouding darkening his downturned eyes. He threaded his hand through his tangled locks watching his father stand in front of the floor to ceiling windows with his back to him and arms tightly folded. Trevor's hand fell to his lap as he shifted his gaze to his mother sitting near him in a white upholstered chair with her black pant covered legs crossed and her fingers fiddling with the gold button on her seersucker top.
"Ah..." He scratched the corner of his eyebrow. "I thought you guys were supposed to be in..." He snapped his fingers remember what state they were in for the month. "Utah for some film festival."
"We were." Mr. Voss turned around smoothly on the heels of his polished oxfords with the blood drained from his face. "But we decided to come here for some R&R before production started up again."
Trevor nodded. "Okay. That sounds fun." He placed a hand on his chest. "I hope you guys have fun...we'll just head over to the guest house." He jerked his thumb towards the door.
"This girl...Lela." Mrs. Voss bunched the loose fabric of her shirt in her bony hand. "We didn't even know you were dating." She glanced at her husband then back at her son with narrowed eyes.
Trevor rolled his eyes with a curve to his lips, "You don't even know what kind of car I drive or the book I'm reading." He pushed his back against the plush sofa. "It's not the first time you guys are the last to know."
"Don't start that again, Trevor. We provide for you...very well." Mr. Voss gave him a dismissive wave causing Trevor's eyes to become steely upon him. "Plus you're not ready for a commitment as serious as marriage."
"Especially with that girl?" Mrs. Voss sneered, fidgeting with the cuff of her shirt.
"That girl." Trevor abandoned his relaxed state—inching to the edge of the sofa leering at his mother with indignation storming in his eyes.
Mr. Voss took a step closer to them and interjected, "What your mom means is Lela...however lovely she could be is not the type of girl we see our son marrying."
"How can Lela not be the type of girl you see..." Trevor stopped, his hands froze as his brain caught up and finished processing his parents' words. "Is this because she's Black cause—"
"Don't look at us like that." Mrs. Voss cut him off.
"Like what," Trevor outburst as he leaped off the couch too angry to stay seated.
"Like we're racist." She added with a hand on her chest. "Because—"
"Because we aren't." Mr. Voss jumped in. "I employ and fraternize with many people of color."
"People of color. You have got to be fucking kidding me." Trevor curtly spat out gripping his hands around the sofa's hard frame. He leered at his parents as if they were transplants from a distant era. An era where confederate flags were treasures and men that burned crosses were noble. He lowered his head taking a deep breath. "Scratch what I said earlier." He refocused on his parents with soberness. "We're not staying here." He backed away from the couch with rage reddening his cheeks. "I don't want her anywhere near ya'll."
"Son." Mrs. Voss quickly called out to him as she rose to her feet.
"Don't son me." Trevor stabbed his finger in his parents' direction. "When have ya'll ever parented me. Esmeralda raised me." The name ignited more anger in his belly. "When I went off to college you let her get deported."
"Don't bring that shit up again!" Mr. Voss roared nearing his son. "She did her duty. Her immigration status was no longer our concern."
Trevor gasped with disgust. "You two claim to be Christians." He clenched his fist. "Maybe you should stop listening to the preacher and open the Bible...." He swallowed the damn sitting on the type of his tongue. "Instead of being hypocrites."
"These hypocrites foot your bills." Mr. Voss snide with his shoulders squared.
"I thought you learned when I was eleven that you couldn't buy me." Trevor roughly rubbed his hand down his face knowing the next words he was going to utter would change his life completely but he couldn't swallow them, "Fuck you and your money."
Trevor marched out the living room, ran up the stairs, and regained his gait once he reached the hallway. He stopped at the closed bedroom door to catch his breath and still the rapid beating of his heart. He swung the door open to find Lela sprawled across the bed with her phone attached to her ear.
Lela covered her hand on the bottom of the cellphone, "Harmony told Cai how she feels..." She scrunched her buttoned nose. "It didn't go so well."
Trevor nodded then snatched his empty duffle bag off the floor.
Lela sat up with concern taking hold of her face, "What's wrong?" She sat on her haunches. "Are you okay?"
He yanked the dresser door open, "I'll be better when we get the hell out of here."
"Harmony, I'm going to have to call you back," Lela affirmed then ended the call as she watched him throw clothes in his bag. "Baby...tell me what happened."
Trevor stopped then gazed at her with misty eyes, "When we're gone." He leaned over the bed and gingerly kissed her forehead. "Pack your bags."
Do you think Trevor was right to say what he said to his parents?
Will Trevor tell Lela how his parents feel about her?
What does this argument mean for Trevor's trust fund?
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