Compelled (a Hat Films Fanfic)

Interrogation

        "So Amanda," my father said, setting down his fork and breaking the comfortable silence between all of us as we ate our Christmas dinner. We had enjoyed a lovely day, going to church in the morning and then opening presents in the afternoon. I didn't get much, not that I had expected or asked for anything, and there had been an exchange of very stereotypical presents between all of us. Of course Seb had to get me about 3 pounds of Kinder, to add to my pile from the fans, and my father had given me and him both 300 pounds each. Amanda and I had agreed to combine our gifts to my parents, so we had gotten my father a Club W membership, since he was a big wine enthusiast, and then for my mother a gift basket full of fruits and chocolates. I had gotten Seb a new set of drum heads after hearing him drop hints for months about them, and Amanda had given him one of her custom tee shirts she had designed in her graphics and new media course. Amanda had received a cute, cold winter survival kit, complete with a hot chocolate mug and ear muffs, with everyone making the joke about moving from Tampa to Bristol.

        My real gift for Amanda had hopefully arrived already, though Trott hadn't given me any updates yet. I had to order it online and had it shipped to his apparent so Amanda wouldn't stumble upon it while she was staying here, and I hoped that it had arrived safely. Maybe it was a bit too intimate a gift, but even if we wern't technically dating, I still felt like getting her something small like a gift card might have been too impersonal. I made a mental note to text Trott tomorrow, since he should be back from Katie's parents house by then.

        "...you said you were 24?" my father continued, breaking me out of my thoughts.

        Amanda nodded, glad for the excuse to stop picking at her food and trying to make it look like she was actually eating. It still bothered me that throughout our stay here she's probably only eaten the equivalence of one meal, though I could never confront her in front of everyone. "I'll be 25 in February sir," she answered with  smile. 

        "Isn't that a bit old to still be going to uni?" he asked, trying to sound polite with such a question, "Did you take a few years off?"

        I had actually been wondering the same thing, and had just assumed it was some America custom I didn't know about. "Um," Amanda hummed, pushing her bangs out of her face, "I was in a physics program for a few years before I changed to a digital art major and had to transfer to another school."

        "Physics?" my mother asked, clearly surprised. I felt the same way, having no idea Amanda was proficient in that kind of thing. She was great with computers and an amazing artist, but it hadn't crossed my mind that she was good at anything else. It was also disconcerting that she hadn't told me any of this, and with the way she acted so uncomfortably, she didn't look like she wanted to. "Which uni did you go to?" my mum asked.

        She waved off the question. "John Hopkins for about a year and a half," she muttered, "I was in a PhD program, but it was obvious I wasn't suited for it..."

        When she said PhD, I had been taking a drink from my water glass and had inhaled a mouthful of water. All eyes turned to me as I coughed and sputtered, trying desperately to regain my composure. "I... I didn't know you... were going to be a doctor," I stammered through coughing in an attempts to redirect everyone's attention back to Amanda.

        She looked thoroughly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going, and put a hand on my shoulder to make sure I was okay before continuing her explanation. "I had the grades and the skills to do it," she said quietly, "It just wasn't what I wanted to do."

        "What did your parents say when you told them you're going into art instead of physics?" Sebastian joked, elbowing her gently.

        "My mother wasn't very happy," she laughed, "but my brother had been chosen for a much better physics program so they still had one kid to be proud of." She made it sound so happy and lighthearted, but I detected the smallest hint of bitterness more in the statement than in her voice. "I'm much happier being an artist and working for YouTube than spending days in a computer lab running programs," she assured us as if she had heard my thoughts.