Even Angels Fall

Chapter 15

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Christina~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Christina, it's time for dinner," Daddy said from the doorway of my bedroom.

I looked at him and finally allowed myself to stop working for the first time all night. I'd been furiously trying to get everything done ever since I got home. I managed to finish all of my homework and the project for the yearbook. I'd done the rough draft for my English paper and had a good start on the one for History. I'd even gotten one of my articles finished - thankfully it wasn't as involved as I'd thought it would be. I was currently working on the second article and, thanks to Mike, highly aware of how much I really didn't like doing it. Part of me wanted to be annoyed that he'd clued me into the fact that I was miserable - I couldn't get it out of my head now.

Luckily I'd always been able to zone everything else out when I was doing homework. But in between stuff, it became much harder. And articles weren't really homework. Not to mention they were the main things that were helping me get to where, I now realized, I didn't want to go.

It had been very difficult to get those thoughts out of my head to be able to finish the first article. It was proving almost impossible for this second one, and I was getting frustrated that I couldn't write as well as I knew I should be able to. More than that, I was frustrated that I was even doing it.

"Okay, I'm coming." I sighed and put my pen down.

My dad turned to leave and I impulsively decided to broach the subject. He wouldn't really want me to be unhappy, right?

"Daddy?" I called, stopping him. He looked back, waiting for me to continue and I suddenly had second thoughts about bringing this up.

Well, good idea or not...

"What if..." I faltered. "What if I don't want to do all this anymore?"

Daddy moved into my room, giving me his undivided attention. Which didn't make this easier.

"What are you talking about?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I mean." I glanced away. "I do all this stuff." I gestured to my desk. "But what if I didn't?" 

He just watched me, waiting for an explanation.

"What if I don't want to be a journalist?" I asked. "And what if I don't want to go to Harvard? I'm doing so much and-"

"Christina, don't be ridiculous," he said more calmly than I'd have guessed. "Of course, you're going to Harvard. And you'll be a wonderful journalist. Isn't that what you've worked so hard for?"

"I know." I nodded. "But what if I want to do something else?"

"Like what?" 

I looked down thinking. "I don't know exactly but-"

"I think you're just getting nervous," he interrupted me. "You have a solid plan that you've worked very hard on, and you'll be fine. Now, your mother is waiting for us." Deciding that was the end of the discussion, he turned and left me alone.

I stared at the empty doorway in disbelief. He didn't even let me finish! He thought I was just nervous? No wonder he didn't seem too upset - he wasn't taking me seriously.

I never had a plan. It had always been his plan. I just went along with it because I wanted to make him happy. Didn't he even care about what was going to make me happy?

'Of course you're going to Harvard.' Even if I don't want to? Even if it was going to make me miserable? Even if I'd regret it for the rest of my life?

This was far from over, I thought. I hadn't been prepared just now. I'd bring this up again later, once I had time to really think about what I wanted to say. I'd make him listen to me.