Page 22 of Until We Burn
My patience frays.
Mama and papa created Motu Views to impress my papau, my grandfather. He didn’t exactly approve of their marriage because papa wasn’t French Polynesian. Norman Mason came from Berkley, California, to do a marine biology internship in Mo’orea and ended up falling in love with my mom, Keala Maiau, when they met at a local market. Motu Views earned papau’s half-hearted respect, but he’s still fighting to win it now.
My hands grip my phone so tight that the tendons start to ache.
“I’m trying to build a life that makes me happy. If I don’t make it to the NHL, then at least let me try to make it work in the sports indust?—”
“Do you know what happens to NHL players when they get injured?” Mama cuts in. Her eyes widen, and her hands fly out. “One hit, and you’re done! You’ll be left with absolutely nothing,mon cœur,and we don’t want that for you.”
My eyes fall shut.
They’re not listening. They’ve never fucking listened to anything except for the fear in their heads.
Papa sighs, his voice soft and placating, “We’re not your enemies, Kainoa. We’re still giving you until the end of the year to prove yourself on the ice. But if you don’t get signed to a team, we need you here to help run Motu Views. Promise me that you’ll keep working hard on your business degree and stay focused on what you need to do this year.No distractions.”
I blow out a breath, leaning back against the headrest. I nod. “No distractions. I promise.”
Relief unravels across my parents’ faces.
“Goodnight,mon cœur.”Mama blows a kiss into the camera. “We’ll talk to you soon.”
I smile faintly. “Goodnight.”
The call ends.
I chuck my phone onto the passenger seat, crank the ignition on, and blast my music as loud as it can go on my drive back to the apartment.
CHAPTER 11
DIANA
4.5/10.
The horrifying grade humbles me first thing on Monday morning.
I sink back into my chair, embarrassed by the headstrong belief that I would ace Mellonbaum’s assignment without Kai’s help.
Her critique only makes it worse.
Diana, your ideas are well-articulated. Unfortunately, the positive traits end there.
I bury my face in my hands.
It’s fine. This is just a small, minor assignment. As long as bàba doesn’t find out I failed it, I’ll be fine.
Yet I can’t fight the crippling shame stripping down my self-worth. It stings just as much as the memory of Kai storming off at the party. I can still hear the annoyed rasp in his voice, the hurt and confusion burning in his eyes.
Judging by how you’re treating me, I don’t think I want to know you.
As much as it hurts to do this now, it’s worth it in the end.
Still, my eyes gravitate towards the door throughout the lecture on public art.
“The Pandolfo twins once said,‘Every city needs art, and art has to be in the middle of the people!’”Mellonbaum recites.
We’re thirty minutes into the lecture, and Kai hasn’t shown up yet.
Did he drop the class to avoid me?
