Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I can’t wait to get the hell out of here,” Brayden says, anger dripping in his words. I know he’s thinking about finally being free to be with Drew out in public but…
“I have three more years.” If I can even afford to continue here. If I’m right and my parents did cut me off, there’s no way they’re going to keep paying for my apartment, or my utilities, or my food.
Brayden frowns as if just realizing that when he leaves, I’ll still be here. And I have no clue where Ashton will be… And if Drew is still the coach here, we’ll be in the same position we’re in now.
“Yo, Brayden,” a guy calls out. “Practice in ten!”
“Shit, I gotta get going.” He jumps up and then dips down, kissing me goodbye. “I’ll see you at home later.” Home… It’s technically neither of our homes, yet it feels like more of a home than the one I grew up in.
When he’s gone, I take my coffee outside and call Dad. He answers on the first ring.
“Mia.” The single word is laced with sympathy, and I immediately know there wasn’t a mix-up.
“So, it’s true,” I say in greeting, not even bothering to ask the question.
“Your mother felt it was best—”
“To cut me off financially while I’m in college?”
“To go with tough love,” he finishes.
“What the hell is tough love?” I hiss. “Neither of you has shown me any kind of love in years. Now you want to try and parent?” Angry tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
“Your mother feels you’re making bad choices, sweetheart. Come home and we’ll help you get back on track. You can enroll in college here, live at home…”
I swallow the lump in my throat, knowing this is probably the last conversation we’ll ever have because I can’t be part of a family who doesn’t love and accept me. Ashton, Brayden, and Drew are my family. They love me and accept me. They support me…
“I’m not coming back,” I tell him. “This is my home.” And I’ll do everything in my power to make sure of it.
He sighs. “I understand, but if you change your mind…”
“I won’t.” Nothing can make me change my mind about my boys. They’re mine and I’m theirs and anyone who doesn’t understand can go kick rocks.
Without bothering to say goodbye, I hang up and head over to the financial aid office.
“How can I help you?” a cheery, gray-haired woman asks.
“I’m interested in applying for a loan.” Because I’m under twenty-five and my parents make too much money, I’m not eligible to receive any grants.
“Here’s the website.” She slides a paper over to me. “This tells you everything you’ll need on hand when you apply. Applications must be received on or before April thirtieth to be eligible for the summer.”
“Oh, no, I need to apply for… now.”
“I’m sorry, but all financial aid is closed for the spring semester. The earliest you would be approved, if you’re approved, is for summer.”
My heart plummets into my stomach. “Okay, thank you.” I take the paper from her and walk out of the office. My mind is numb and my body is on autopilot the entire walk back to my apartment. Normally, I would go straight to Ashton’s, but I need a few minutes to myself and I haven’t been home in several days.
When I step up to my door and unlock it, an envelope falls to the ground. I pick it up and, seeing it’s from the leasing management office, nearly throw up my coffee. I rip it open and read it twice before it sinks in. It’s a letter of non-renewal of my lease. I’m being evicted by my parents.
Slamming my door closed, I rush down the hallway and fly down the stairs. I have to fix this. They can’t kick me out of my apartment. I’ll be homeless.
When I enter the office, I walk over to the first person I see. “I received this letter. It says I need to be out in two weeks. This can’t be right.”
The woman’s brows furrow as she reads over the letter. “I’m afraid this is correct. Your lease is up at the end of the month and we received your denial to renew.”
“That was my parents,” I explain, trying to remain calm. “I would like to renew.”
She types away on her keyword and then frowns. “I’m sorry, but when we received the letter, we signed a contract with someone else. There’s a waitlist and—”
“So, that’s it? You’re kicking me out of my apartment without anywhere to go.” Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I almost feel sorry for the woman, who looks extremely uncomfortable. This isn’t her fault. It’s my parents’, and it’s mine. Theirs for pulling this shit, and mine for not staying two steps ahead.