Chapter 2

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"Where on earth have you been?" Pop asks when I finally emerge from the office about ten minutes after Connor.

"I just needed a breather." He assesses me for a moment and straightens my tie before nudging me in the direction of my dad who's a few feet away chatting with some fancy looking people holding champagne.

"Ah, there he is!" he exclaims once I'm within arm's reach and pulls me close with his arm around my shoulders. "This is my son, Dalton." The older man and woman look me up and down before they both zero in on my piercings, their lips curling in distaste.

"It's nice to meet you," the man finally says and holds his hand out for me. I take it and give it a shake before dropping it and doing the same for the woman.

"You as well." I give them both a fake smile as I shove my hands in the pockets of my slacks, waiting for permission to leave.

"Your father tells us you're a senior?"

I nod in response, but then say, "Yes, sir," when Dad nudges me.

"What are your plans for next year?" Why is everyone asking this damn question tonight? I glance up at Dad who gives me an encouraging smile, so I clear my throat and return my attention to the couple in front of me.

"I haven't decided yet if I'd like to take a year off to travel or go to school." They glance at each other before giving me tight smiles.

"Education is important, son."

"It is, but so is being cultured. The world is so much more than just this country, and if I have the opportunity to explore even a fraction of it, then I'm going to take it. Not to mention education isn't the be all end all – you can still be perfectly successful without a degree. Look at my dad for example. Yes, he went to school, but his current career and success doesn't align with the program he chose to pursue when he was my age. I just don't feel I'm prepared to make a decision that will dictate my entire life at eighteen years old." I finish my rant with an over exaggerated smile and my dad chuckles nervously beside me as he gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"I see... Ashton, where is that beautiful daughter of yours hiding?" I roll my eyes, knowing a dismissal when I see one, and stalk off to where Pop is leaning against a wall, sipping on his champagne as he people watches.

"How'd it go?" he asks when I lean against the wall beside him and I scoff as I cross my arms over my chest.

"Pretentious assholes," I mutter under my breath and he chokes on his champagne, trying his best to stay quiet as he coughs up the bubbly drink.

"Be nice," he finally wheezes once he's got his dying under control. "But I agree," he whispers and I grin over at him. "Who's that boy who keeps looking over here?" I follow his gaze and see Connor glancing over at us.

"Oh, that's my friend, Connor. We go to school together." He raises an eyebrow and nudges me.

"Friend, hey?" I roll my eyes and shake my head.

"Just a friend, Pops." He pouts and slumps back against the wall, and I can't help but laugh at his expression.

"He's cute," he says, side-eyeing me as I raise a brow in return.

"So you date him." His nose scrunches up and he shakes his head quickly, then in a blink, his expression smooths out completely and I swear his eyes turn into hearts.

"How're my favourite boys doing?" my dad asks as he moves between us and wraps an arm around each of our shoulders.

"Wonderful," Pop says as he stares into Dad's eyes. Dad chuckles and removes his arm from around me to pluck the champagne flute from Pop's hand.

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