The echo of the last laughter and the murmurs of the party was beginning to dissipate as I stood by the door, watching Sack and his father, Victor, come out. His figure disappeared among the lights of the road while I exhaled slowly. "See you soon," Sack had told me with that smile half resignation, half complicity. What did that boy have? He wasn't like the others, and that intrigued me more than I wanted to admit.
The party had come to an end, and although my parents were always kind, I couldn't ignore the constant expectation they placed on me. Every conversation, every glance was loaded with an implicit message: it had to live up to what they expected, to what the surname Grove meant. Charlotte and Alex were still by the buffet table, chatting animatedly as they picked up some candy. I walked towards them, thanking them for the excuse to clear my mind.
"Ready to escape this golden cage?" asked Charlotte, raising an eyebrow as she offered me a macaron.
"More than ready," I replied, taking the macaron and letting the sweet raspberry flavor calm my tension a little. "Tonight was—" Intense.
Alex gave me a mischievous look. —Intense because of the endless speeches or because of the unexpected company on the balcony?
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help but blush slightly. "Both, I suppose.
Charlotte quickly took the lead. "Oh, please, Lindsay, count!" I saw how you talked to that boy... What is he like? He seems so distant, as if he is trapped in his own world.
"It's... different," I admitted, playing with the rim of my empty glass. "He's not like the others here. He doesn't try to impress or follow the script of "perfect son." It's refreshing.
Alex smiled knowingly. "And do you think he thinks the same of you?"
I didn't respond right away. I didn't really know what Sack thought of me, but there was something about his words, the way he looked at me tonight, that left me with more questions than answers.
"Let's stop talking about Sack. What are your plans for tomorrow?" I asked, changing the subject before my friends could push me further.
Charlotte smiled, understanding my maneuver, but decided to play along. "Sleep in and avoid any family drama, as always.
"That sounds good," Alex commented, though his smile suggested he wasn't done investigating. "But I want details of the meeting in the clubhouse. I'm sure it will be interesting.
"We'll see," I replied with a vague smile, knowing that I wasn't going to escape his questions so easily next time.
The night finally died down as we said goodbye. Charlotte and Alex walked away, leaving me with the silence that always came after these events.
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The weekend came faster than I expected. In the blink of an eye, my parents and I were heading towards the clubhouse. My mother, as always, was impeccable, offering suggestions on how I should behave. My father, on the other hand, seemed satisfied that this meeting consolidated his agreements with Victor.
The clubhouse was an elegant place, surrounded by meticulously manicured gardens. When we arrived, we found Victor and Sack already there, waiting next to a table where several plans and documents were displayed. The atmosphere was formal, but the tension on Sack's face was evident.
As our parents began to talk business, I approached Sack, who was sitting in a corner, clearly disconnected from the enthusiasm of the adults.
"Bored yet?" I asked, breaking the ice.
He looked up, smiling tiredly. Was that a rhetorical question?
I let out a light laugh and sat down next to him. "Well, at least I'm not alone in this. You seem just as enthusiastic as I am.
"If you call enthusiasm to wanting to be anywhere else, then yes, I'm excited," he replied, his tone loaded with sarcasm.
I watched him for a moment. "Is it always like that with you and your father?" I dared to ask.
Sack sighed and shrugged. "It's part of the deal. I follow through on his plan, and he stops insisting... for a while.
"And what about your plan?" I asked, genuinely curious.
He looked at me, surprised by the question. "That's something I'm still working on.
I nodded, understanding more than he was saying out loud. "Maybe that's the problem. Everyone here seems to have a script, but it's not ours.
Our conversation was interrupted when a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. In an unfortunate move, he stumbled slightly, and some juice spilled onto Sack's shirt. Sack's face immediately tightened, and his withering gaze caused the waiter to back away, clearly frightened.
"Be more careful!" Sack snapped, standing up with clenched fists.
"I'm sorry, sir. It was an accident," the waiter apologized, nervously.
For a moment, I feared that Sack would lose his temper completely. I hurriedly intervened, placing a hand on his arm. "Sack, come on. It's not that bad. Come, we can find something to clean you up.
He looked at me, still tense, but something in my tone seemed to calm him down. He nodded briefly and let me guide him out of the main room. As we walked, I gave him a reproachful look.
"What was that?" I asked, crossing my arms as we stopped in a quieter corner.
Sack sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I guess I'm not in the mood.
"That's no excuse to scare someone who's just doing their job," I replied, though my tone was softer now.
He gave me a look that mixed anger and frustration. "And why do you care so much?" It's not like it's your problem.
His answer took me by surprise, and I felt my patience begin to wear thin. "Of course I care! Because, believe it or not, I have something called empathy, Sack. And what you did was wrong.
"Empathy?" he replied sarcastically, letting out a brief laugh. "It seems easy to say when you don't have someone on your back all the time waiting for you to be perfect.
"And you think I don't know how that feels?" I answered, raising my voice a little more than I intended. "You're not the only one who carries expectations, Sack!" But I don't go around unloading on innocent people.
He was silent, staring at me. For a moment, he seemed to want to say something, but he held back. Instead, he looked down and took a step back.
"I don't understand why I even bothered to talk to you," he blurted out suddenly, his tone cold as a blow.
I opened my mouth to answer, but he had already turned on his heel and was leaving, leaving me alone in that corner. I saw him walk away, with that mixture of anger and frustration.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the knot that had formed in my stomach. "Perfect," I thought. "Another lovely chat with Sack." I returned to the room, with the firm intention of avoiding him for the rest of the meeting.