30. Tristan
30
TRISTAN
F rustration and anger and sheer fucking disbelief thrash inside me like a storm. It is inconceivable. It is fucking inconceivable .
I gave Elle Saturday to pack up her stuff and leave. Then today, I went to the admin office to confirm that Elle Summers had indeed been expelled and left campus. But instead, what did they tell me?
That she had in fact not been expelled. That she had come down with some contagious disease, which is one of the exceptions that can be made for students who miss important tests, and that she would be allowed to retake the exams in two weeks.
How is it fucking possible?
How is it fucking possible for someone like Elle, who has never done anything even remotely shady in her entire life, to continuously be able to talk her way out of these kinds of problems? A contagious disease? She would have had to pay off a doctor to write that kind of proof for her.
Frustration and rage rip through my soul .
It doesn’t matter what I do, Elle somehow always manages to slink through and come out unharmed in the end.
It is absolutely fucking unbelievable.
She’s not even a rat anymore. At this point, she has leveled up to cockroach. Because she is simply impossible to destroy.
Flexing my hands, I shake my head in anger as I stalk towards her dormitory building. I don’t even know why I’m going there. To threaten her? To admit that I’m secretly really fucking impressed by her? To just outright kill her so that I can get rid of her infuriating presence in my life once and for all? I don’t know. I just know that I need to confront her.
Since I’m not sure if she’s even there, I decide to approach the building from the back so that I can glance in through the window first before I kick the door down and make my threatening entrance.
But I don’t even make it all the way to the window before a familiar voice stops me in my tracks.
The voice is so out of place here that it takes me a few seconds to process it.
When I do, I still need to sneak closer to Elle’s window in order to confirm that it’s really him. But the view does confirm it.
Adam Summers, Elle’s father and the mayor of our hometown, is standing there inside her room. She is sitting on the narrow bed, her hands clasped in her lap and her chin lowered, while he towers over her where he stands two steps away. He has his hands on his hips, and there is a furious expression on his face.
The sight of it shocks me. I’ve seen Adam Summers in public several times, and he has never looked angry. Never lost his composure.
But now, his face is red with anger and indignation .
Edging back from the window, I make sure to position myself where I can still see them, just barely, while they can’t see me. The window has been cracked open a little, probably to let some fresh air into the no doubt stifling hot south-facing room, and that is what allows me to overhear what they’re saying.
“Do you have any idea the kind of gossip I’ve had to suppress back home because of you?” Adam demands. “Everyone is whispering that Adam Summers only pretends to run a tight ship while he can’t even keep his daughter in line. Do you have any idea the kind of damage this has done to my reputation?”
Elle keeps her eyes on the floor. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not good enough!” His chest heaves with angry breaths. “I have spent nineteen years impressing upon you the importance of always maintaining a perfect image. That everything you do is constantly being monitored and judged, and that you must never be anything less than perfect in every way.” He slashes a hand through the air. “But the moment you’re out of my sight, you disobey everything I have taught you.”
Shock slams into me.
And for a moment, I can only stare at Elle with wide eyes.
That is how she was raised?
“You were supposed to go to Bercester U and follow in my and your mother’s footsteps,” Mr. Summers continues. “To show everyone that you are our legacy. That you are worthy of continuing our work. And instead, all you’ve done is to show us what a disappointment and an utter failure you are.”
I jerk back at the harsh words. But Elle doesn’t even flinch, as if it’s not the first time that he has said something like this. I stare at her, my mouth open .
“I’m sorry, Dad,” she says, her voice soft. “I promise that I will do better.”
An intense aching pulses through my heart.
“That’s what you said last time,” he retorts, his voice hard.
“I know. But I really will do better from now on. I’ve just had some… issues to deal with.”
“You’re a Summers. You don’t get the luxury of having issues . Your academic, social, and athletic performance should always be exceptional regardless of what issues you may or may not be dealing with.”
“I know.”
“Do you? You keep saying that and yet you continue to be a worthless disappointment.” He raises a warning finger in the air. “But I swear to you now, Elle, this is your last chance. If you keep this up, we will disown you.”
She snaps her head up and stares at him with wide eyes. Her chest starts rising and falling rapidly. Tears spill down her cheeks.
“Calm yourself,” Adam orders. “Crying will do you no good.”
But her breathing keeps coming out in fits and starts. Raising a hand, she grabs the collar of her shirt and pulls it forward, as if to give herself more room to breathe.
I recognize the signs. She’s having a panic attack.
My gaze darts to her father, but he does nothing to help her. In fact, he does the exact opposite. He stands there in front of her and stares down at her as if he is even more disappointed in her for having a panic attack.
The sudden overwhelming urge to beat him within an inch of his worthless fucking life flashes through me with such force that I have to brace myself on the wall to stop myself from doing just that .
“I said, stop crying,” he snaps.
Elle sucks in desperate breaths while panic flashes in her tear-filled eyes.
“Pull yourself together,” Adam continues. “And sort out this mess that you have made. We expect excellence in all things, and we will have it.”
Pain stabs through my chest like a hot knife.
Fuck, I can’t watch this. I can’t listen to any more of this.
That storm of anger and frustration and disbelief that was swirling inside me when I stalked over here has now been replaced by pain and confusion and regret.
Staggering away from the building, I shake my head.
I had no idea that this is what Elle grew up with. This enormous pressure to always be perfect in all things. This asshole of a father who cares more about his image than the welfare of his own daughter.
Just a few days ago, I mocked Elle for being a spoiled rich girl who has never known what it’s like to feel trapped. What it’s like to grow up feeling like you’re being crushed underneath a mountain of pressure. And all that time, she was carrying around this .
Guilt and regret twist inside me.
Fuck.
Growing up like that, she must have felt just as trapped as I did. Must still feel just as trapped as I do. But for different reasons.
How the hell am I supposed to hate her now?