(Complete) Monty Whitby grew up knowing exactly what was expected of him. As the sole heir of Whitby Enterprises, he will one day take over, but his father never misses the opportunity to tell him he will never meet his expectations. Once Monty's re...
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Seven years later...
Monty strolled out of the woods. For years, he had followed his father's orders and stayed away from the woods. At seventeen, no one cared what he did as long as his grades were good. He outgrew nannies and lessons scheduled every afternoon. They had only been good for acquiring a list of likes and dislikes. He disliked tennis, golf, piano, violin, fencing, archery, karate - the list was endless. He liked soccer and Sloane Calhoun. In fact, he loved both. He loved what he and Sloane had been doing in the very woods he had exited.
Being late for dinner didn't cause the fear it had at age ten. Disappointing his father was his greatest talent. The latest on the long list was not being courted by any division one colleges for soccer. His father wanted him to go to a prep school for another year to get noticed. He would be eighteen soon, and what his father wanted wouldn't matter.
He found both his parents in the parlor. In recent years neither were home very often. His father looked up at him and frowned.
"You haven't changed."
Monty looked down at his fade tee shirt and ripped jeans. They cost extra for the rips.
"I'm not going to. I'm going out after dinner." If only he had been invited to family dinner.
"You'll eat soup in the kitchen."
Monty shrugged. His favorite foods no longer made his day. Being with Sloane was far more delicious than Alice's chicken.
"Have you decided between Lawrence or North Hills Academy?"
What the hell... No time like the present... "Neither. I'm going to take a gap year."
"A what?" Disappointment oozed from Montgomery's voice.
"A year off. I'm not ready for college and I don't want another year of high school."
Celia said, "But darling what about soccer."
He waved his hand. "It's a game. I was never as good as you thought." The old man might know that if he ever saw him play. "It was just the one thing I didn't suck at."
"Don't use language in front of your mother."
"Sorry, mother."
"Darling, you are good at so many things."
Nothing except being with Sloane. "Excuse me, I'll be in the kitchen." Celia glared at her husband. If the old man weren't home, he and his mother would eat in the kitchen. "I'll be at Hayes' tonight."
It was his mother who expressed displeasure. "Vanessa and the judge are expected at Alicia's later."
"We'll just be hanging out? I'll probably stay over."
Celia sighed. "Not until I verify with Vanessa."
He had outgrown the need for a formal invitation. They made their plans, knowing everyone's parents would be out for the evening.
