why do you only call me when you're high? //kth

32• playing with fire

Saturday morning, I didn't exchange a single word with my parents during breakfast other than a brief mumbled 'morning'.

My mum at least seemed a bit regretful of what had happened last night. She worriedly watched me make myself breakfast and carry it up to my room without another word to either of them. My dad, as always, didn't even notice that anything was different with me.

I couldn't remember the last time that just the two of us had talked for longer than five minutes. And it was always just about school or babysitting Clara. But I was used to it at this point. He was either at work the whole day or on his phone or laptop the few hours a week he was home.

I understood he was a business man and that his job was his main priority, I just didn't get why the hell he had wanted kids. I knew some of my teachers better than I knew my own dad. Let that sink in. My own dad was more or less a stranger to me.

I stayed in my room for most of the morning. My mum called me down for lunch at noon but I didn't answer her, even when she came knocking on my door.

"Honey, we need to talk about this" she pleaded, repeatedly knocking against my locked door. I was sitting on my bed, blankly staring against one of my walls. I let out a sigh because I knew she was right.

Eventually, I unlocked my door. Clara was watching something on my phone, cuddled up on the sofa in the living room. My parents were both waiting for me at the kitchen table. Mum was frowning, her arms crossed over her chest, dad's face held an unreadable expression. He had his reading glasses on. To my surprise, his laptop was closed and his phone in his pocket.

"Yes?" I looked at them both, a sour frown on my lips. My mum notioned me to sit down.

"About yesterday.." she started. "of course we're not forcing you to attend business school"

"But that's exactly what you implied yesterday" I furrowed my brows.

"No, honey" my mum shook her head. "We expect you to give business school a chance. If you dislike it, you can always do something else"

I had a hard time believing that. Why would they suddenly change their minds? They were both stubborn as hell. Especially my dad.

"But you will take the entrance exam" my dad spoke up. "And to do that your grades-"

"So, just to get this right. You're not forcing me to graduate from business school, instead you're forcing me to try and get in, only to drop out in my first semester when I don't like it?" I scoffed, interrupting him.

"Now, Hanna, one semester doesn't really count as trying, does it?" my dad had a forced smile on his lips.

"What do you mean?" my mouth dried up.