Placing a hand on my chest, cool air fills my lungs, and I realize I'm breathing fast and heavy. My skin is clammy, and every muscle in my body is buzzing.
Gathering myself, I take a few slow breaths to calm myself down, and go back inside. I barely get through the door before I'm cornered by my parents.
“We heard what happened,” my mother snaps under her breath. “I'm not going to make a scene, but I won't let him embarrass us. I don't know exactly how you got mixed up with that guy, but it's done and over. I'm not stupid. I can see the way you look at each other. He's not good enough for you, and he's certainly not welcome at our house. I want him gone by morning.”
My father just glares at me with his teeth clenched. He doesn't need to say a word for me to know what he's thinking. In his eyes, I fucked up big time. It isn't disappointment, it's straight up anger.
I don't even get to defend Mark. They both spin on their heels, noses up in the air as they storm off.
Standing alone, I watch the room move like a well-oiled machine, and it hits me that no one even notices or cares about my absence. My parents go right back into society mode, working the room with handshakes and fake smiles.
I feel out of place. A shadow on the wall. A silent presence. A puzzle piece that just isn't fitting in place.
Forcing a smile, I slip back in my seat. No one asks where Mark is. No one even bats an eye. It's like he was never here. It's like I never left.
Listening to the conversations around me, I realize I've heard them all before. The same stories, the same punch lines, the same old on repeat.
Nothing ever changes. These people never change. It doesn't matter who they are, they're all the same.
All these people care about is keeping up appearances. They care about the number in their bank account. They care about what fortune five hundred magazine does a spread about them, and if they make the cover.
They couldn’t care less if the donations actually go to anyone. They could give two shits if they change someone's life. None of it matters at all.
This world doesn't really care about anyone. Not even me.
But Mark cares.
11
Siobhan
Flopping on the bed, I let the thick pillows absorb my head. My brain is running wild. Thoughts pass through my mind like white water rapids, churning so hard it's giving me a headache.
Mark was waiting outside the building when I got home from the charity event. He didn't say a word to me. His hands were in his pockets, his mouth stiff and eyes hard. He went right to his room, and I haven't seen him since.
My parents have agreed to let him stay the night, but they're pretty set on him being out tomorrow.
This sucks.
I found something in Mark I haven't had in a long time, not since Jenna. An ally. Someone who's interested in what I like. Someone who enjoys more than just money and status.
And I'm pushing him away because I expect him to conform into something that he's not.
What the hell am I doing?
Tears bubble up over my eyes, but I force them away. Sniffling, I rub my eyes and roll over to my side. I shouldn't have to choose between happiness and family. I shouldn't have to choose between the things I love, the things I know, and the man who knocked my world sideways.
'You need to make a choice. . .' His voice plays over and over in my head like a skipping record.
He's not wrong. You know he's not wrong.
I do bend myself to fit. I do change to please them. I follow all the unspoken rules that are boxing me in and holding me back. And it's not at all what I want. I don't want this life. I never asked for this once.
Except I'm chained here, bound by blood and loyalty to a family that's never once asked me what I want. It's always been about them and how they look, about how we look to others.
How do I get out when I'm dug in like a damn tick?
I can walk away. Right? Just pack up and leave. . .
But then I have nothing.
If I go, I'll cut off. There won't be a trust fund waiting for me. The credit card I use is linked to my parents’ account, and they'll surely cancel it. It's as if they planned it this way. Make me rely on them for everything or have nothing.
Mark's right. I do have a choice to make, but it's not about what I want, it's about finding a way to get it. And right now, I only want one thing. Him.