Lucas (Cold Fury Hockey 8)

"It was your goal too," I say, discounting her position.

"No," she says firmly while shaking her head. "It wasn't. Dad is always the one that pushed medical school at me, and well, I just never told him differently, that I didn't want to be a doctor."

"So you just decided not to finish the last semester of your undergrad?" I ask incredulously. "What have you been doing for the last two and a half months?"

"Working at a bar off campus," she says.

"And the money for your tuition and what Mom and Dad give you for living expenses?" I grit out.

"The tuition's been refunded; the check was sent to me. As for the living expenses...well, I've been using some of the money they put in my account each month to supplement my wages."

"They are going to fucking kill you," I mutter, but that's an exaggeration. They're not killers, but they are going to be extremely pissed at her.

"Look, Lucas," Simone says as she pushes off the couch and comes to stand in front of me. "The past three and a half years going to school have been miserable for me. I've hated it. It wasn't what I wanted. Can you imagine day in and day out being forced to do something you hated?"

I don't answer her because I'd have to agree with her, so instead I maintain a stony silence.

"Lucas," Simone says. "I need to be my own self. I've got to discover the real Simone Fournier and live my life the way I want to."

Fuck, that gets me too. Max, Malik, and I are all pursuing careers we are over the moon for. While Malik was an amazing hockey player in his own right and probably would have been professional league material, he chose to serve in the Marine Corps, as we all have dual citizenship since our mother is American. But he loves what he does so much that he's a career marine.

"Simone," I say as I put my hands on her shoulders. "Yes, you should be able to pursue your dreams and not have to settle for the dreams of others. But you know you went about this the wrong way, right? You should have told Mom and Dad all of this, and you should have done it ages ago."

"You don't think I don't know that?" she asks, tears welling up in her eyes. "The last thing in the world I'd ever want to do is to disappoint them. Especially Dad."

That's the God's honest truth. Simone as the baby of the family was doted on by both of our parents, but she was always a daddy's girl through and through.

"Okay," I say as I drop my hands from her shoulders and point at the couch. She sits and looks up at me with her hands folded in her lap. "You have three things to figure out. One, how you're going to tell them. Two, how you're going to make it right with them. Three, what you are going to do with your life."

She nods with earnest eyes and then punches me in the gut when she hesitantly asks in a quavering voice, "Will you help me, Lucas? Will you help me figure out this clusterfuck so I can lead the life I'm meant to?"

I blow out a huge gust of air because she's not completely deflated my indignation over her stupidity. "Yeah, sure. But we need to figure out one and two, like, right now. You've got to call Mom and Dad and tell them what's happening, and it has to be done now. You can stay here for a bit until we figure out three."

Simone flies off the couch and slams into me. My arms go around her and I squeeze.

"Thank you, Lucas. I love you so much."

I squeeze her again. "Love you too."

After a moment, I release her and pull out my phone with a sigh. As I prepare to call Stephanie, I mutter to Simone, "Take your bags into my room, then come back to the kitchen. We'll sit down and just get it all figured out."

"Okay," she says, all perky and bouncy now that I'm not kicking her out.

"And stay out of Van's way," I call to her as she rolls her bags down the hall. "He's grumpy."

She doesn't respond and I dial Stephanie. She answers on the second ring, and even though she knows it's me calling, she still has a formal greeting. "Hello?"

"Hey," I say as I look at my watch briefly. "Look...something's come up. Simone's decided she's not going back to school and she showed up on my doorstep about fifteen minutes ago. I've got to stay here and handle some things with her, so I'm not going to be able to make it over tonight."

She's silent for a moment before she says, "Not a problem at all. I could actually use a good night's sleep, and you, sir, take up my sleep time."

It's a funny and lighthearted comeback, but I don't hear it in her voice. I actually don't hear anything in her voice that would say she's pissed, sad, happy, angry, or indifferent, and that doesn't set well with me.

"I've got a game tomorrow night," I say hesitantly. "I wouldn't be able to come over to your place until pretty late."

What I'd really love is to invite her to the game and then have her come home with me, but this is Stephanie I'm dealing with. That would be way too much like a date, or it would acknowledge that the relationship is something other than just casual, which we both fucking know it is.

"Actually," she says quietly, and I note without any real disappointment in her voice, "I've got an interview for a job over in Greensboro after work. By the time I get back, I'm going to be whipped."

Shit. Greensboro was over an hour and a half away. If she got a job there, our relationship--casual or otherwise--is done.

"But you're still coming to the doctor's with me day after next?" she asks, and that makes me feel a little better. I'll at least be seeing her soon, although by the time the appointment rolls around, it will have been a full week since we'd been together, and well, that just sucks.

"Yeah," I say in a chipper voice. "Definitely coming to that appointment. I'll just meet you there, right?"

"Right," she says, and at least she sounds a little more enthused. "So, good luck with Simone."

I chuckle without any real humor. "Thanks, I'll need it."

"Okay...bye," she says softly, and I wonder if she was being true to her feelings would she say something like, "I miss you."

I wonder that because, fuck, I miss her and I want to tell her that, but I don't want to freak her out. So instead, I just say, "Bye, Stephy."

"Cancel a date?" Simone asks, and I hear the worry in her voice that's confirmed when I turn around to see her in the kitchen with concern on her face. "Because you should totally go on that date and we can talk later."

"It wasn't a date," I

mutter as I walk into the kitchen and pull out a chair for Simone.

She plops down in it and asks, "Was that with Stephanie?"

"Yeah, but not a date," I reiterate.

"But you like her," Simone guesses.

"Sure I do," I say evasively.

"But you don't like her, like her," she pushes at me.

"Our relationship is complicated," I mutter as I sit next to my sister. And fuck is it complicated, as it involves me having a baby with a woman I actually like very, very much, but I'm pretty sure she'll never feel the same way. "But I don't want to talk about it. We're going to fix your shit right now."

"Okay," she says, sitting up straighter.

"First, you're going to call Mom and Dad tonight and tell them you weren't enrolled this last semester and that you won't be graduating," I say firmly. Simone moves to interject something, but I hold my hand up and reiterate, "Tonight. Get it done, get it over with."

"But what do I say?" she asks with a cocked eyebrow.

"The truth. Exactly as you told it to me."

"Sounds so simple," she grumbles sarcastically as she looks away.

"That is the simple part," I tell her, and her eyes snap to mine. "You need to figure out how to make this right with them. They shelled out a shit ton of money for you to get an Ivy League education and you need to make it right."

Simone swallows and nods once. "I know, but I'm not sure how."

"You make it right by finishing," I tell her. "You finish next fall and you get that degree. Let it sit on a shelf for all I care, but you finish what Mom and Dad paid for you to have."

Simone shakes her head. "I'm not going back."

"Then what do you propose?" I ask, knowing that's really the only way she'll be able to make things right with them.

"I'll pay them back the money," she says with her chin lifted.

I bark out a laugh. "And you know how much money you're talking about? They've probably spent more than $250,000 on your education so far when you calculate tuition, books, and living expenses at Dartmouth."

"So it will be an extended-payment plan," Simone snaps at me. "But I'm not wasting another second of my life doing something that doesn't bring me happiness."