Totally busted! I stared opened-mouth at him as my brain seemed to slow to a glacial pace. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beth snicker into her hand. She’d been right about the desperation.
“I guess I think we should eat first,” I said slowly.
Okay, so they could both see right through me. But maybe that was a good thing. Tonight was going to be about my senior year. We had a lot to talk about.
I’d been trying all winter break to think of ways to tell them about my big art project and now was the perfect time. Honestly, I wasn’t sure why I’d waited so long.
I guess a part of me was worried they’d think it was a distraction from school. Or that they wouldn’t be as excited as I was. Maybe, when I finally showed them the plans I’d drawn up with Mrs. Drew, and the sculpture that was forever going to grace the lawn of Rock Valley High with my name etched at the bottom, they’d be on cloud nine.
Trina Frye’s name cemented in history.
A tiny piece of immortality.
They’d love that. Maybe as much as they loved the idea of future me curing cancer or some other disease. With a little bit of food in their bellies, they’d be even more likely to be excited at my news. And with that done, we could finally get onto fixing my class schedule.
Easy as pie. Not that I’d ever made a pie before...but how hard could it be?
“Perfect, I’m starving.” Dad rubbed his hands together vigorously. “Bring on the food bribery.”
My cheeks burned as I cut the lasagna and placed it on the table. They already knew this was a setup, but I dished the squares out with as big of a smile as I could muster. It was all about the display.
When we were finally seated, including my baby sister with the told-you-so eyes, silence fell over the room. I watched as they dove into the food and made pleasant humming noises in response. My hand remained hovering over my fork, the nervous grumblings in my stomach making it impossible to even think about food in that moment.
Instead, I thought about that statue. About my classes. And even Mason Finnick, with his ridiculously permanent scowl. There was no room for anything else inside my head. Bite after bite they shoveled into their mouth as the anticipation in my belly grew. And when I could take it no longer, I pushed my plate back from the edge of the table and cleared my throat.
“I’m sorry, but this can’t wait.”
Three sets of eyes blinked at me. Mom finished chewing what was in her mouth and then very daintily dabbed at the corners of her mouth with her linen napkin.
“Yes, Trina?”
I swallowed hard, wishing my stomach would stop trying to jump up into my throat. This was going to be a nonemotional discussion. I just had to stick to the facts.
“Today there was a mix-up with my schedule at school. They told me my Advanced Art class had been changed to Research Methods 101. Do you guys know anything about that?”
Mom’s gaze locked onto my dad’s and she frowned. “Did you forget to tell her?”
“Oh, yeah.” He plowed his hand through his hair and grimaced. “Sorry about that, bug. That was our fault. We asked them to change it, but then I got carried away with a project and forgot to send you a text.”
I stared down at the lasagna, the tiny hope bubble I’d carried in my chest suddenly bursting. So it hadn’t been a mistake. They really had changed my schedule without telling me.
Mom cleared her throat. “Trina, I know you’re disappointed, but we have to look toward the future—”
“But my art class—”
“Just listen to me.” She held up her hand. She didn’t like to be interrupted, not when she had something important to say. “Your dad and I’ve been talking to your teachers and we reached a conclusion yesterday.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. She was talking like a doctor, not like a parent. Sometimes, I doubted she knew the difference.
“Yeah?” I asked, looking up at my dad.
“Honey, we were looking at your schedule and we realized there’s room for improvement,” he said matter-of-factly. I didn’t mistake the look of expectation in his eyes. It was the same look he got whenever they were talking about my future. “You know, it’s never too early to be thinking about your med school applications. And if you take a college level course like Research Methods this semester, that’ll set you ahead.”
I frowned at him and then looked at my mom. So much for my art project. If they had their way, I’d never sleep, let alone get time to work on the sculpture. “But I can’t. My class schedule is full.”
Mom smiled and reached over to pat my cheek. “Don’t worry. As it turns out, you’ve already fulfilled your extra-curricular requirements, so you don’t need to take Advanced Art. Now you have time to take Research Methods as an independent course. It’s all settled. It’s all part of the plan.”
The plan. Oh, how my parents loved to talk about the plan. My gaze landed on Beth sitting across from me. Her eyes were slanted downward in sympathy, her lips forming the word sorry. She knew it was useless to try and fight back, not that I ever would. Misery flooded my gut for a long moment before I did my best to shake it off.