I'm standing in front of the mirror in my room, wearing my only dress. Mom bought it for me a couple of years ago. My body is as thin as it used to be; the garment still fits.
This date with Gavin has been scheduled for weeks. It baffles me how he has to plan every little detail, writing everything down in his agenda. I can't help comparing him to O'Brien, who seems to be a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy. It's hard to picture him checking his calendar to see if he's free. He might always be free to do whatever he wants, and it's something I wish I could do.
Although I'm not really excited about the date, Gavin is my only chance of leaving the house that feels more suffocating the longer I stay in my room. I don't know where we're going; I just want to get away from my mom and her glares.
She told me Mr. O'Brien wasn't the only one who could offer her a job and that she'd have something else soon. I didn't believe her, but arguing with her and trying to convince her would be pointless. So, I did the usual — I kept quiet and went to my room.
As soon as I'm downstairs, I see Gavin talking to my mother. A smile is pasted on both their faces. They don't notice me until I clear my throat and stand next to Gavin.
"Are you ready? If you are, let's go," I say to him. Mom purses her lips; how I spoke to him isn't what she wanted me to do.
Gavin and I say our goodbyes and leave. He opens the car door for me. I buckle up in the passenger seat while Gavin starts the ignition and drives off.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"To my place. We're going to have tea with my parents."
A snort leaves my mouth, and I clamp my hand over it.
"Do you have a problem with that, Leah?" Gavin asks in a measured tone.
I sit straighter and shrug. "I do. If you wanted us to hang out at your place with your parents, you shouldn't have called it a date."
"You used to like their company," Gavin says as if he has no idea why I reacted the way I did. How can he be so clueless?
"Why are you even with me?" I mumble. "We have nothing in common. Your friends can't stand me, and I don't like them, either. Our families are different. You study all the time, and I find it boring. We haven't hung out as a couple since September."
Gavin grimaces. "I like you. Isn't that enough?"
"What can you possibly like about me if we hardly talk?"
We keep silent for a while. I stare at the country road leading to Gavin's huge Victorian. His family is loaded and famous in town, and he could date any girl. Why me?
"You're not making any sense, Leah," Gavin finally says. "Of course, we talk. You could show more interest in the things I like. Perhaps that way, we'd have more topics for conversation."
"Talking to the person you're dating shouldn't require so much effort," I say. Gavin doesn't expect it. His face reddens and grows even more crimson the closer we get to the wrought-iron gates of his family mansion.
Relief washes over me when I get out of the car and breathe. The feeling is short-lived. Gavin takes me by my elbow and leads me toward his front door.
His mother is there, all pearl-white teeth and fake smiles, but I don't miss the once-over she gives me. It's probably because of my dress.
"Leah, welcome!" She beams, opening the door wider. I greet her and make my way inside. The marble floors and crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling intimidate me despite all the times I've been here. They'd be more fitting in a museum.
In the living room, I perch on a chair at a round table, watching Gavin's mother pour tea in beautiful cups. If I had my house, I wouldn't buy the easy-to-break ceramics. I'd choose something cute, like a mug with a quote. My kitchen would be modern—
"Leah." Gavin tugs at my sleeve.
I face him. "What?"
"Mom asked you a question."
"Yes, excuse me," I mutter and look at Gavin's mother.
"I said Political Science is the perfect choice for the two of you."
I cross my arms. "Political Science? I don't like it."
Gavin's face flushes. "You do."
"No, I don't. I never wanted to study that."
Gavin's mother furrows her brows. "Well then, I assumed since we're going to cover your tuition and expenses, you'd study the degree of Gavin's choice. He's always known his future's in politics."
"His, but not mine," I say, and Gavin narrows his eyes at me.
"Tell Dad we're sorry, Mom. Leah and I will be in my room," he says as he stands and grabs my hand, dragging me up the stairs.
Once the door behind us clicks shut, Gavin stuns me by pushing me against it and kissing my neck.
I flinch and press my palms to his chest. "Stop!"
He does, but his arms on either side of me prevent me from escaping.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" I raise my voice. "First, you decide what I should study, and then you kiss me when I don't want it?"
Gavin smirks. "Isn't that what O'Brien was doing with his girlfriend? I bet you want the same now that you're desperate to fit in with those losers instead of planning our future in college."
"I don't know what I want to study, and I can't make plans without knowing if I'll get the grant."
Gavin shrugs and takes a step back. "You won't need a grant. My parents kindly agreed to pay for you, as long as both of us study what I consider a good choice. "
"I'm not going to depend on your parents."
"Don't be ridiculous. You're my girlfriend."
Am I?
I glance around Gavin's bedroom, which looks as immaculate as the rest of his house. Nothing gives away his preferences — there are no band posters, souvenirs, or pictures.
I don't know him. We might be officially dating, but Gavin's a stranger.
"Besides, I've been mulling it over," Gavin goes on, "and I think we should have sex."
The absurdity of what has left his mouth makes me laugh hard, wrapping my arms around my belly.
Gavin rolls his eyes. "Done with your childish outburst? If you are, consider what I said. It's your birthday in less than a week. I already told my parents you and your mother would come for dinner. We can do it then."
"We haven't been together long enough to sleep together," I say. "Besides—"
Plopping down onto the leather armchair at his desk, Gavin grins and folds his arms behind his head. "I'm not asking for too much. My parents helped you unconditionally so you wouldn't sleep on the street. What I want is an excellent way to thank me. "
The air drains from my lungs. I gape at the guy in front of me, struggling not to lose it, but keeping calm is easier said than done.
"You're disgusting." My voice quivers. "I won't sleep with you because your parents helped my mother. You know what? We're done. You can look for another girlfriend because I'm not dating you anymore."
Not giving Gavin time to react, I bolt out of his bedroom and dash down the stairs. Not spotting his parents anywhere gives me the chance to slip out of the pretentious house unnoticed.
I run down the driveway and exhale a shaky breath when I see the gates are unlocked.
Gavin lives far from me, but it doesn't matter. I'm willing to do anything to escape him and the humiliation he put me through, even if it means freezing in my thin jacket and having blisters from walking in my uncomfortable shoes.
His blunt offer made me feel dirty. Once again, I'm mad at my mother for pushing me toward him, for believing his pathetic lies, and putting him on a pedestal when he doesn't deserve any of it. If only she knew who he is.
Step after step, the pain in my feet grows sharper, and tears roll down my cheeks.
Although I'm heading home, I don't want to be there, either.