My dad called me again sometime in the evening. The sound of my phone buzzing against the nightstand jolted me from my thoughts. Reluctantly, I picked it up, already dreading the conversation that awaited me. He didn't even wait for me to say hello before launching into his tirade.
"He exhaled sharply as if the entire conversation already irked him. 'Look, Delilah, you're saying we don't spend time with you? We're out here working our butts off to give you a good education and make sure you turn out to be a responsible young woman, and this is how you reward us? Whining? Even your spending has increased, and we have to fund all that! And all you can do is follow bad friends, party, and get drunk! Your teacher called—your grades are slipping. We trained you better than this!'"
I muttered under my breath, just loud enough for him to catch a few words, "If you were ever there to train me…"
"What?!" Dad exclaimed, his voice rising. "What did you just say?"
"Nothing, Dad," I lied quickly, but I knew he had already heard me. Great, just great. I was officially the world's biggest idiot. What was giving me this sudden burst of bravery? Or was it stupidity?
I took a deep breath, trying to control the rising panic. "Okay, Dad. I've listened and understood your points and your concerns. I accept all corrections made. I'm so sorry for my recent behavior, and I promise to change." I crossed my fingers behind my back at the obvious lie. Who was I kidding? There was no way I was giving up this life for anything in the world. For the first time, I felt like I was actually living. I woke up every day excited. I was popular, beautiful, and things were going amazing for me. I hung out with the coolest people and partied with the best. There was no way I was going back to my old life. I'd rather slit my wrists and bleed out than do that. But, like my father pointed out earlier, he and my mom funded my lifestyle. If they ever got furious enough to cut me off, my life would literally be over. I wouldn't be able to fit in anymore, so I had to be smart and do whatever it took to appease him and Maya, of course. How did she even know I wasn't in bed? I really should start locking my door and cutting off those apron strings.
"Well, it doesn't matter anymore," he continued, his voice stern and resolute. "You don't have to do a thing anymore. Your nanny said it's those girls corrupting you. This is your last year of high school, and after your graduation, you'll attend a good Christian university. Let them shape you up. Just make sure you graduate with a good result—that's all I'm asking. I'll take care of the rest."
"What? Daddy, this is unfair!" I screeched, feeling the walls of my world closing in on me. "I haven't even decided if I want to go to college or not! No! I won't go! You'll have to drag me there, kicking and screaming."
"Well, I've already decided that for you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "And you're going—even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming. You're my daughter, and you're right. I haven't been keeping an eye on you, but that changes now."
"Daddy, I said I'm sorry!" I pleaded, my voice cracking with desperation. "This decision you're making will ruin my life! I mean, this is just a way of punishing me, but you can't make me commit social suicide as well!"
"Your life?" he sneered, clearly unmoved. "It doesn't matter. I don't care about your opinion, Delilah. I thought you had a good head on your shoulders, but I was fooling myself. So, I'll train you like the spoiled brat you've become. You'll do as I say, or I'll throw you out of my house and cut off your credit card. Understood?"
I felt the ground shift beneath me, the weight of his words crashing down like a tidal wave. This was no idle threat—my father meant every word. I could feel my world slipping away, the life I'd built unraveling at the seams.
"Delilah," he continued, his voice cold and final, "take care of yourself. I'll start processing your application for college next year. Like I said, you don't have to do a thing—just make sure you graduate high school." And with that, the line went dead. Just like my life.
---
The call left me staring blankly at the phone screen, unable to comprehend the conversation that had just taken place. My father's words echoed in my mind, each one driving another nail into the coffin of the life I'd been living. I wanted to scream, to throw something, anything to release the anger and frustration bubbling inside me. But all I could do was stand there, frozen, as the reality of my situation sank in.
I felt like I was suffocating, the walls of my room closing in around me. This couldn't be happening. Not now, not when I was finally starting to enjoy my life. The thought of being shipped off to some Christian college, far away from everything and everyone I knew, was unbearable. I'd be cut off from my friends, my parties, my freedom—everything that made life worth living.
And for what? To be "shaped up"? To become the obedient daughter my parents always wanted? I knew they meant well, in their own twisted way, but they didn't understand me. They never had. They didn't see that I was finally happy, that I was finally living. All they saw was a rebellious teenager, out of control and in need of discipline.
I couldn't let them do this to me. I couldn't let them take away everything I'd worked so hard to build. But what could I do? If I disobeyed, they'd cut me off. And without their money, I was nothing. Just another girl with no friends, no status, no life.
My phone buzzed in my hand, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. I glanced at the screen—it was a text from Nancy.
"Hey, girl. You okay? Diana and I are going to hit up that new club downtown tonight. You in?"
I hesitated for a moment, my father's words still ringing in my ears. I should say no. I should stay home, keep my head down, and try to salvage whatever relationship I had left with my parents. But the thought of sitting alone in my room, wallowing in self-pity, was too much to bear.
Screw it, I thought. If my life was going to fall apart, I might as well go down swinging.
"Count me in," I texted back, feeling a surge of defiance. If my parents were going to send me off to some Christian college, I was going to make the most of the time I had left. I'd party harder, live wilder, and make memories that would last a lifetime. They could take away my future, but they couldn't take away my present.
I quickly changed into something more suitable for a night out—a short, sparkly dress that hugged my curves in all the right places. I added a touch of makeup, just enough to enhance my features without looking overdone, and let my hair down in loose waves. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt a pang of sadness. This might be one of the last times I got to do this—dress up, go out, and feel free.
But I pushed the thought aside. Tonight wasn't about the future. It was about the here and now.
Nancy and Diana picked me up a little while later, and we drove to the club, the music blaring and the windows down. The air was electric, the anticipation of a night filled with possibilities hanging over us like a cloud. We arrived at the club and were immediately ushered inside, our status as regulars ensuring we didn't have to wait in line.
The music was loud, the bass thumping in time with my heartbeat as we made our way to the dance floor. I lost myself in the rhythm, the worries and fears that had been gnawing at me all day slipping away with each beat. For a few hours, I was free—free from my parents, free from their expectations, free from everything.
As the night wore on, I found myself thinking about Ethan. I hadn't seen him since our conversation at school, but I couldn't get him out of my mind. Part of me wanted to see him again, to feel the rush of excitement that came with being around him. But another part of me was scared—scared of what he represented, scared of what might happen if I let myself fall too far.
But tonight wasn't about being scared. It was about living. So when I spotted him across the room, leaning casually against the bar, I made my way over to him without a second thought.
"Hey," I said, my voice barely audible over the music.
He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face as he recognized me. "Hey yourself," he replied, his green eyes gleaming in the dim light. "You look amazing."
"Thanks," I said, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. "So do you."
We talked for a while, the conversation flowing easily despite the noise around us. He was charming, funny, and made me feel like I was the only girl in the room. It was exactly what I needed—an escape from the chaos that had become my life.
But as the night wore on and the alcohol continued to flow, the line between reality and fantasy began to blur. Ethan pulled me closer, his hands resting on my hips as we danced. His touch sent shivers down my spine, and I could feel the magnetic pull between us growing stronger. The crowded club, the pulsing music, the flashing lights—all of it faded away until there was nothing left but the two of us.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "Let's get out of here."
The suggestion sent a thrill of excitement through me. I hesitated for only a moment before nodding. We slipped through the crowd, hand in hand, and made our way out of the club. The cool night air hit me like a splash of water, momentarily clearing the fog from my mind. But as I looked at Ethan, standing there with that cocky grin on his face, the last thing I wanted was to go home and face the inevitable reality waiting for me there.
We walked down the street, the city alive around us, until we reached his car. Without a word, he opened the passenger door for me, and I slid inside. As he drove, we didn't speak, but the silence between us was charged with unspoken words and the weight of what was to come. I could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to cut with a knife, and it only made my heart race faster.
Ethan parked the car in front of a sleek, modern apartment building. "This is me," he said, getting out and coming around to open my door. My breath caught as I stepped out, the realization of what I was doing settling in. But before I could second-guess myself, he took my hand and led me inside.
The elevator ride up was excruciatingly slow, each second ticking by with the heavy anticipation of what was about to happen. My pulse raced, my palms sweating, but there was no turning back now. When we finally reached his floor, he guided me to his apartment, unlocking the door with a quick flick of his wrist.
His place was as sleek and stylish as I'd imagined, all modern lines and minimalistic decor. He didn't give me much time to take it in before he was pulling me toward him again, his lips crashing against mine with a force that left me breathless. I responded eagerly, my hands tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened.
Everything happened in a blur after that. Clothes were discarded, and soon we were stumbling into his bedroom, the world outside forgotten. It was just us, caught up in the whirlwind of our desire, and for a brief, glorious moment, nothing else mattered.
But as the night gave way to the early hours of the morning, reality began to creep back in. I lay in Ethan's arms, staring at the ceiling as the events of the day caught up with me. My dad's words echoed in my mind, and I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. What had I done? How had I let things spiral so far out of control?
Beside me, Ethan was already asleep, his breathing deep and even. I envied him for his ability to slip so easily into unconsciousness, free from the worries that plagued me. But I couldn't sleep. My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, none of which I could fully comprehend.
I slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him, and quietly gathered my clothes. I dressed quickly, my heart pounding in my chest as I tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the living room. The apartment was eerily quiet, the city outside still asleep as I made my way to the door. I hesitated for only a moment, glancing back at the closed bedroom door, before I slipped out into the hallway.
The walk back to Nancy's car was cold and sobering. My head ached from the alcohol, and my stomach churned with the weight of my choices. As I drove home, the sun began to rise, casting a soft pink glow over the city. It should have been beautiful, but all I felt was emptiness.
When I finally arrived home, the house was dark and quiet. I crept up the stairs, praying that Maya wouldn't hear me and start another lecture. I wasn't sure I could handle it. I slipped into my room, closed the door behind me, and leaned against it, letting out a shaky breath. I felt like I was teetering on the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from falling into an abyss I couldn't escape.
I collapsed onto my bed, exhaustion finally overtaking me. My mind was still racing, but my body couldn't keep up. I drifted off to sleep, haunted by the events of the night and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.
The next morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of my phone ringing. I groaned, my head pounding as I reached for it. The screen flashed with my dad's name, and I felt a surge of panic. I wasn't ready to talk to him, not after everything that had happened. But I knew I couldn't avoid him forever.
I answered, my voice shaky. "Hello?"
"Delilah," my dad's voice was stern, no trace of warmth in it. "I've made arrangements for you to meet with the college advisor next week. We'll be discussing your options and what you need to do to ensure you're accepted. I expect you to take this seriously."
I swallowed hard, my mouth dry. "Yes, Dad," I whispered, the fight drained out of me.
"Good," he said, his tone softening slightly. "I want what's best for you, Delilah. I hope you understand that."
"I do," I lied. But the truth was, I didn't. Not really. All I knew was that my life was spinning out of control, and I didn't know how to stop it.
The call ended, and I lay back down, staring at the ceiling as the weight of my situation pressed down on me. I felt trapped, suffocated by the expectations of my parents, the pressure of my peers, and the fear of what the future held. I wanted to scream, to lash out at the world, but I knew it wouldn't make a difference.
I was stuck. And I didn't know how to break free.
The days that followed were a blur of preparation for the meeting with the college advisor. My parents were relentless, hovering over me as I filled out applications, wrote essays, and reviewed my grades. The freedom I'd tasted over the past few months was gone, replaced by a rigid schedule that left no room for the life I'd built.
Nancy and Diana tried to reach out, but I pushed them away, too consumed by the pressure to keep up the façade of the perfect daughter. The parties, the fun, the excitement—it all felt like a distant memory, something I'd never be able to return to. I was being molded into the person my parents wanted me to be, and the more I tried to fight it, the more I felt myself slipping away.
The night before my meeting, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. My heart ached with the weight of all I'd lost, and the fear of what I was about to lose. I couldn't go back to the way things were, but I couldn't see a way forward either. I was caught in a limbo, teetering on the edge of a life I didn't want but couldn't escape.
As the clock ticked closer to midnight, I made a decision. I couldn't let my parents dictate my life any longer. I had to take control, to find a way out of the trap they'd set for me. I didn't know how, but I knew I couldn't do it alone.
I picked up my phone and typed out a message to Ethan. My fingers hovered over the send button, the weight of what I was about to do pressing down on me. But I had no other choice. I needed help, and he was the only one I could think of who might understand.
"Ethan," I typed, my hands shaking. "I need to talk. Can we meet?"
I hit send before I could second-guess myself, the message zipping off into the night. My heart pounded as I waited for a response, each second stretching into an eternity. Finally, my phone buzzed with a reply.
"Of course," he wrote. "Where and when?"
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, relief flooding through me. There was still a chance, a glimmer of hope that I could find a way out of this mess. I quickly texted him back, arranging to meet the next day, and then set my phone down, feeling a strange mix of fear and excitement.
Tomorrow would be a turning point, one way or another. I didn't know what would happen, but I knew I had to take control of my life, no matter the cost.
As I drifted off to sleep, finally at peace at least for a while.