Schooled

Chapter 8

By the next week things were finally starting to settle into a rhythm. I was regaining my sense of control post-summer. Jake hadn't texted lately and I figured he'd gotten the message that I had no interest in rekindling a friendship. Or anything else.

My class schedule was perfectly organized. I built in about three hours of study time daily, and still managed to find time to work on the business plan most evenings and weekends. The odd day I even made it to the gym or to the beach with friends. My world was slowly starting to make sense again.

Even Dylan was becoming part of the rhythm. He continued to make appearances in the mornings and I usually caught a ride at least once a week. I enjoyed his quiet company and was intrigued by the sense of humor that seemed to sneak out when no one was looking. To his credit he'd also held up his end of the bargain so far, ignoring what had happened between us at the party.

The third week of September my mom called out of the blue. It was the first time we'd talked since school started. The message I'd left on their machine confirming my safe arrival from New York probably didn't count.

"We've bought a new house," she said by way of introduction. "In Park Hill."

I hadn't even known they were looking. The house I'd lived in throughout high school was Grant's house. It was only the second home I'd ever had, the only one after Dad had left us.

Mom was going on about the new place. "It has a hot tub, and a dance studio for Chelsea."

"Why are you moving?"

"Since Grant made named partner we need more space." Why, did the firm make partners keep their files in the garage? What Mom probably meant was that she deserved more space, and all the other partners had big houses.

She added that they'd be moving in November and wanted me to come home and clean out my stuff. "We have storage at the new house. If you need to keep a few boxes they can go in the new garage." Maybe behind all the files.

Mom had met Grant through work when I was twelve. At least, that was when she had started bringing him around. They were both patent lawyers, but he had been further up the food chain. Apparently, given his latest accomplishment, he still was. Grant was well-known and respected in the legal community, and had just come off a divorce with his wife at the time. He and Mom had gotten married six months in, which felt like a whirlwind to me.

If the relationship between me and my mom had been strained before Dad left, it was fractured after. They had fought for a year before he took off. Some of their arguments had been about me. The gist of it was that my dad never wanted kids, a revelation I'd struggled to process at age nine—especially as he'd always been kind and loving. I thought he was the best dad in the world. And that was why my mom blamed me for him leaving. Those years were the worst of my life.

But somehow things changed with Grant and his daughter, Chelsea. Instead of being belittled I was mostly ignored. I had been the prototype daughter, a mistake acknowledged on holidays and when tuition was due. Chelsea was the refined model, to be indulged and celebrated.

"Why don't you come home this weekend and go through your room?" I knew better than to think it was a request. If I didn't comply, my belongings would likely become the property of Goodwill by the next time I visited. While part of me wanted to protest that things were too busy, school was only going to get more demanding with midterms and assignments. So I agreed.

It was clearly a sign from the universe when my car wouldn't start Friday afternoon on my way to meet up with Jane for a study date. "Perfect." I banged my hand against the dash.