New Girl - By Paige Harbison Page 0,68
name, his first question was if you were Mason’s daughter.”
“Fancy that,” she said with a convincing smile. That was not fancy, that was awful. She didn’t want their parents meeting or talking or anything. Her two worlds could not combine.
“Do you plan on going into law yourself?”
God no. “Maybe, but I’m not sure yet. I’m not tying myself down to any decisions yet.”
Mrs. Holloway piped up again. “Do you have any idea what you would like to do?”
Becca took a moment to read Mrs. Holloway. “I’m very interested in volunteering at charity organizations.”
She’d never volunteered to do anything unpleasant in her life. Her most concrete plan was to marry rich. And judging by the expanse of this house, Max was a perfect candidate.
“That’s very honorable. I’m involved in some myself.” Mrs. Holloway sipped her wine. “I find it very fulfilling.”
How could anyone find that fulfilling? But who cared, the parents were totally eating up her lies.
“Max, you’re awfully quiet,” said Becca.
“I’m just letting you all get to know each other.”
“He’s so polite, don’t you think?” She looked from Mr. to Mrs. Holloway. “You’re never this quiet at school. Especially on the weekends.”
Max’s gaze lurched to her. She knew things about him she could spill if she wanted to. He knew that.
“The weekends?” Mrs. Holloway looked curiously at her son.
“She means when we all hang out and aren’t in class. Have to be quiet in class.”
“Oh, that’s not all I mean!” She smiled at him. “You can get pretty rowdy at our parties.”
“Parties?” asked Mrs. Holloway.
She could see a stab of panic behind his eyes. It’s not like he really ever did anything wrong, but if his parents were anything like hers, they wouldn’t want to hear about association with anyone that they might consider to be a bad influence. Except, at this point, Becca’s parents knew she was the bad influence.
Becca had come to Max’s with the intention of solidifying their relationship. Clearly going home with him was a step in the direction of staying together. But suddenly she didn’t care anymore.
“I don’t get ‘rowdy.’”
“Sure you do! Remember that time—oh, that’s probably not good table talk.”
“Go on.” Mr. Holloway looked stern.
“Well, I don’t really know too much. I don’t drink or do drugs or anything, so I usually leave early.”
“Are you implying that Max does?” Mr. Holloway asked. His wife was silent, looking wide-eyed at whoever spoke.
Becca waved a hand. “Of course not.” She sounded as unconvincing as she could.
Max was staring daggers at her, but she ignored it, and took a bite of her mashed potatoes. “These potatoes are so great.”
“Good, I’m glad you enjoyed them. If you’ll excuse me.” Mrs. Holloway stood and walked out of the room looking a little emotional.
Mr. Holloway followed her without saying a word.
Becca finally locked eyes with Max.
“What’s the matter with you?” His voice was low and quiet.
“You had better stay with me or I’ll tell them everything.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Go right ahead.”
“You have to stay with me. I’ll tell Dr. Morgan, the headmaster and your parents that I’m concerned about you and your abusive tendencies, your drug use and your drinking. Let’s not forget you practically raped me.”
She raised her voice on the last two words, and he shushed her quickly. She immediately felt guilty.
“Just stop. You’re not freaking me out in the way you’re hoping to, Becca. I’m okay with losing you, but I don’t need you to lie to my parents on the way there.”
She threw her napkin on her plate, infuriated by his condescension. “I’ve been at this school one semester and I’ve already got everyone under my thumb.”
“So?”
The question hung in the air. Becca didn’t have an answer. Nothing besides, because I hoped it would make me happy.
“Max, come here.” Mr. Holloway’s voice was low and resonating, and without shouting he managed to be heard startlingly from another room.
Max stood. “You’re insane, you know that?”
“Ha!” She crossed her arms in an effort to look stronger than she felt. “That’s not what everyone else will think!”
He left the room, looking kind of hot all mad like that. A moment later she could just barely hear the muffled conversation he was having with his parents behind a closed door down the hall.
She tiptoed toward the sound, and tried to hear.
“What are you doing?”
Becca jumped, and turned to see the small figure of what must be Max’s little brother. “Shh.”
“Why?”
She spoke through gritted teeth. “Can you just hush?”
She tried to listen again, but all she could hear