Page 1 of Sweet Boys Love Christmas
ONE
BERTIE
Bertie
“Mom? What?”Disbelief hits me like a slap to the face. I have to put her on speaker so I can pace my dorm. “The plan was to go to London as a family for Christmas. What’s changed?”
“I told you.” She sighs over the line, exasperated. She probably assumes I’m too dense to understand what she’s implying. In reality, I get it. That’s not the issue. I need to hear her say it instead of beating around the bush. “Your father and I were invited to the Maldives with the Lutzes, so we’re going there instead.”
“We’re?”
“Your father and I.”
“But not me.”
I knew from the moment I answered the phone that she would break my heart.
My parents aren’t horrible people. They’ve never abused me. I’ve always had more than I could ask for.
But they are selfish.
All I’ve ever been to them is an accessory. In the beginning, I was a cute little kid to tote around to their high society functions. “Look at our little Beatrice. Isn’t she a doll?”
Except they forgot that babies turn into toddlers, who turn into children, who then become teens and adults. I was mostly raised by a rotation of nannies. It’s shocking that I can function like a normal person at all.
“No, sweetie. It’s just adults.”
With my eyes closed, I clench my teeth. As if I’m not nearly about to graduate from university. Iaman adult, but to them, I’ll always be a pesky child.
“I understand.”
Idon’t, but I learned to stop picking fights years ago. It gets me nowhere, and this one would only further prove her point that I’m not mature enough for thisadults-onlytrip.
“I knew you would. Talk soon.” With that, she ends the call.
Huffing, I toss my phone onto the couch. Then I clutch a throw pillow and bury my face in it while I scream.
I don’t hate my parents, but I can’t say I like them either.
But I’m tired of being understanding of their whims. When they hurt me like this, they don’t even care. That’s the worst part.
It doesn’t help my mood that I’ve essentially been alone since my roommate and best friend ditched me months ago. Though it was for a good reason, it left me living on my own, and she’s so busy we don’t hang out like we used to.
I have other friends, but not ones I trust the way I trust Rosie.
Spending the Christmas holiday by myself on campus may just be the most pathetic thing I could do, but what choice do I have? There’s no time to plan a trip, and I don’t relish the idea of going alone anyway. I already spend enough time by myself. I don’t need to be reminded of how lonely I am by sitting in a hotel room with no company but my own.
Sighing, I push myself up from the couch, then I shrug into my coat. The last place I need to be right now is my empty, silent dorm room.
My frustration mounts as I head across campus to the dining hall.
I hate that I let my mom get me. I hate that I’m disappointed. I should’ve expected this, and that’s on me.
The worst part is that, despite it all, I always believe the best in my parents. Every time, I believe they’ll be different, and then I’m inevitably let down.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice… or in this case, a hundred times.
A guy leaving the dining hall holds the door for me. “Thanks,” I mumble, stepping inside and taking off my mittens. As I shove them into my pocket, I head straight for the dessert station. I deserve a brownie.
