Page 9 of Choosing Her
“Or something,” I said, not giving him anything else to go on. His smiled widened. I waited for him to say his own name and sighed when he remained completely silent, forcing me to seem more eager than I liked to when I first met someone. “And you?”
“Oh, my parents love boats,” he said, seeming also dismissive. And even though I didn’t want to, I giggled at the joke. I guess that was enough to win him over, because then he said, “I’m Crossy.”
CHAPTER 6
saylor
I hoveredin the doorway of the guidance office, knocking softly when Mrs. Gao didn't see me immediately. The mini square paper telling me that I was requested in the office was crumpled in my hands, probably close to unreadable now. Mrs. Gao looked up from her computer and smiled warmly at me. She was a woman in her late fifties, who’d been my guidance counsellor for as long as I’d been at Hartwell—meaning, she’d seen first-hand what it was like dealing with my parents, who had my whole academic career planned out for me.
I liked to think that I was a pretty good student, but she’d seen the worst of me. The way that I had failed miserably as I tried to be put in a higher level chemistry class last year. How I had fought her against putting me in an AP class that I knew I was going to fail. Having dealt with my parents for my whole life, I knew I was putting her between a rock and a hard place by saying no, but I told her they would be more upset if I failed than if I didn’t get into the classes at all. I’d had to explain to her that my parents had certain expectations for me, but they didn't know the first thing about what I was actually good at. She told me that there was a surprising number of parents who were likethat when it came to their kids. I’d chosen not to tell her that my parents knew less about me than she ever could have imagined.
“How are you, Rebecca?” She asked as I sat down. I stiffened at the use of my first name. There were very few people in the world that I actually allowed to call me Rebecca and almost all of them were related to me. Most of the teachers defaulted to calling students by their last names in class, anyway, so it was rarely an issue at school, and anyone who did call me by my first name was usually happy to change course when I told them I preferred Saylor. Mrs. Gao was the only teacher who couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around that. She said she liked to build a rapport with students by calling them by their first names, and wouldn’t listen when I said that I didn’t like my first name at all. Eventually, I gave up on arguing.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I said.
I dropped my leather backpack—a gift my mother had picked up for me in Rome last year—and sat down on one of the padded visitor chair’s across the desk from her. I’d been in this office a number of times to deal with scheduling issues, so I knew all the posters like the back of my hand. There was the one of the cat hanging on to a rope that saidHANG IN THERE!which I’d always found sad and not very motivational. Beside it was the bright rainbow that saidBE YOURSELF, EVERYONE ELSE IS TAKEN. Then, of course, the classicSHOOT FOR THE MOON. EVEN IF YOU MISS YOU’LL LAND AMONG THE STARS. Seriously, every piece of wall space that wasn’t covered by a filing cabinet or window had one of the posters taped up on it. I wasn’t even sure what the paint color was underneath.
“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called you in here,” Mrs. Gao said. I stole a Werther’s candy from the bowl on her table and sucked on it as I waited for her to continue. “Well, we got an email from your parents yesterday.”
I should have seen the words coming, but they made my heart sink anyway. There were few reasons why I would be called into the guidance office that didn’t have something to do with them, but I’d been hoping this was going to be some sort of general chat that she was doing with everyone. Something about preparing for college applications next year since I was a junior now or a mental health check-in, so I could get in and out of here within a few minutes, without having my life upheaved. If it was something to do with my parents, though, I already knew my week was going to be ruined.
My parents claimed they liked to stay hands-off to foster my independence, but I knew what it was code for: they just couldn’t be bothered to worry about what was going on in my life. Dad cared more about hockey than he did about Naomi or me—as he always said, working as an NHL coach was more than a full-time job—and Mom was too busy with social functions to worry about we were doing, as long as weren’t publicly embarrassing the family. Sometimes, it made me sad to see the way everyone else’s families would come down to visit them, while I was lucky to be mentioned on the postcards my parents sent to Naomi, but then I reminded myself of the good parts too. Most of my friends’ parents wouldn’t buy them a horse or give them a credit card without limits. There were pros and cons to every family situation, and I just had to focus on the positives.
“Oh, yeah?” I asked. I wished my parents would keep their meddling to the beginning of the school year, so I didn’t have to deal with my life getting shaken up once I was already in a good routine for the year, like I was now.
“Yes.” She clicked on her mouse a couple of times and then turned her computer screen towards me so I could see the email myself. I barely needed to skim it to see what it was about:We're concerned about Rebecca’s lack of extracurricular activities.
I frowned. “Why would they be concerned about that? Isn’t horseback riding enough? And I was in the environment club last year.”
“And those are all very good things,” Mrs. Gao said with a patronizing smile. She’d never quite managed to nail the kind and sympathetic look. “But their concern was that the clubs you’re currently in won’t be unique enough for a college application. They think you need something a little bit more academic.” She turned her computer screen back towards herself and hummed as she looked something over. “We were thinking tutoring.”
“We?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. I had a fairly good guess that it wasn't a 'we' decision. It was that they had said exactly what they wanted me to do, and she was trying to make it sound like she'd had any part in it because that was supposed to be her job.
Really, my parents probably hadn’t even come up with the idea on their own. I bet they just ran into a couple who bragged about their daughter doing tutoring to help on her college applications, and they decided that I absolutely needed to do that too. At least they remembered that I existed.
“It would look very good for a college,” Mrs. Gao said. “And since you're so skilled in math, it all works out.”
“I don't know that I have time,” I said. “I mean with school and riding…”
What I wanted to say was that I didn’t want to give up my evenings for some random whim of my parents. I was in demanding classes with a lot of homework and I deserved to have some time to myself without spending it on someone else’s homework. But I knew all that would get me was a speech about being a team player and thinking beyond yourself, and I wasn’t sure I could handle that right now.
“I think you can manage it,” Mrs. Gao said, her voice even more patronizing now. She looked at the computer screen again. “It says here that you haven’t been to a single environment club meeting this year, so I don’t think that conflict will be an issue. Why don’t you just consider it, okay?”
I knew that phrase well enough to know that meantyou're gonna do this because I'm not dealing with the wrath of your parents if you don't.
I nodded stiffly, just as the warning bell rang last period.
“Can I go?” I asked. “I don't want to be late.”
My voice was flat, and I was sure she must have sensed it because she held out her bowl of candies and said, “Why don't you take one?”
I’d already taken one earlier, but I didn’t see a reason to say no, when free candies was the only benefit of coming by here. I took one and stuck it in my pocket as I stood back up, then watched in the reflection on the window as she hit reply to my parents’ email, certainly telling them that I’d agreed when I hadn’t even had time to process what she was saying. She was probably going to make up some lie about how I was so enthusiastic and such a hard worker. All the buzz words my parents wanted to hear, to know that their daughters were just as perfect as them.
“Oh and Rebecca?” She said as I was stepping out of the room. I stopped but didn’t turn around. “We already have a student lined up for you. So head down to the hockey coach’s office after classes, okay? He’ll introduce you.”
I nodded again, holding back my scream of frustration until I was outside. Not only did I have to tutor someone against my will, but it was a hockey player?You have to be kidding me.
CHAPTER 7
