Chapter Ten
Quinn
The rest of the tournament weekend passed in a neon-lighted blur. I assumed that was the way many weekends there ended up for the tourists all around me. I just felt like I was in a different world.
When Owen and I woke up together in the same bed, we laughed. And then, we did not talk about it again. Even on the nearly four-hour trip back to UCLA, we never mentioned it once.
"Do you like living in L.A.?" Owen asked after one particularly long pause.
"Yeah, but sometimes I wonder if I would like anywhere that gave a buffer between me and my parents," I said. "How about you? You still live in the same town you grew up in and your parents are just down the street like mine."
"When they're in town," Owen said. "My parents are different."
The Redds had money, and not the kind families got from high-powered careers. They had inherited money, old money, and it seemed to be a self-replenishing supply. Every year, Owen's parents made a big show of offering him a yearly stipend, which he immediately turned down. Then, they flew off to another jet-set location and it would be months until they appeared in Nevada again.
"Haven't you ever been tempted to be like your parents?" I asked. "It would put you in the same position as Anya." The words soured even as they came out of my mouth.
Owen scrubbed at his stubbled chin. "I've never been tempted because that's not what I want. It’s not really what they want for me, either. My parents are happy that I want to be my own man. Sometimes, when I think about taking a desk job or some other conventional thing, I hear their voices in my head telling me life's too short to go any way but my way."
I sighed. "That sounds like a luxury to me."
His hands tightened on the steering wheel. "I know it looks like it’s been easy for me. I don't have anything to complain about. It’s just I've worked hard to build my own career out of nothing. The fact that it looks effortless is something I'm proud of, but I also think it takes away my credibility."
"Oh, you seemed to have plenty of credibility at the tournament," I said. I slapped his knee. "No wonder you seem to have a neverending fountain of self-confidence."
"Me? You're the one that burst on to the scene."
"That was Arrowa. I'm just plain old Quinn about to go back and scrape by with bottom grades in her nursing program." I crossed my arms and looked out the window.
"Who knows, maybe you'll get kicked out and have a chance to make it on your own," Owen said.
The thought was appealing, more than appealing. By the time Owen parked the car and we walked across campus, I had thought of a dozen legitimate ways to get kicked out of the nursing program. My parents would be angry, but I would be free. Free of them and Sienna's shadow and free to finally take a look around and decide what I wanted for myself.
"Quinn?" Owen caught me with my hand on the door knob of my dorm room. He pulled me closer and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. "I know what we haven't been talking about is a really hard thing to talk about. Just know this."
He kissed me. Light and simple, but he let it linger until I had no doubt our thoughts were the same.
"Who needs to talk?" I asked. "We seem to be doing fine."
"Quinn, is that you?"
My blood froze as the door opened and my father stood staring at us. Owen's arms dropped away and all the blood drained from my face.
"Father? What are you doing here? Is Mother okay?" I asked.
"I'm right here," she said. My mother came into view, her arms crossed and one foot tapping. "The question is, where have you been and what on earth have you been doing?"
"Certainly not studying," my father said. He stepped aside and all but ordered Owen and I inside the room.
I was surprised when Owen followed me. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas," he said.
"What are you doing here, Owen?" my father asked. "Please tell me you know why this is a cause for concern."
"Frankly, I don't," Owen said.
"I don't know what you think you are doing to our family, but Quinn is in danger of losing her place in the nursing program. Anything you do is harmful to my girls, to Quinn, don't you see that?" my father asked.
"I'm losing my place in the nursing program?" I prayed my hopeful tone had not been heard.
"No," my father said. "Your mother and I drove here and convinced your advisor otherwise. You are on probation, but you will be able to work your way back up. We'll discuss it as soon as this thoughtless, careless, waste of space leaves."
"Father! You can't talk to Owen that way," I protested.
"No, it’s okay, Quinn. I understand. Your father needs someone to blame and it should be me," Owen said. "Better me than Sienna or you or anyone else. Listen to them, don't lose what you have here before you know what you want."
His words hurt, but I still followed him to the door and grabbed his hand. He squeezed mine before pulling free. "See you around."
"I'm sorry, Owen. This is horrible," I said. I stood frozen as he winked at me and left the room. Then my anger boiled to the surface. "How dare you blame Owen. You know he was never anything but wonderful to Sienna and to me."
"There is no you and Owen, Quinn," my mother said. "That is a ridiculous and terrible thought. You need to get yourself together."
"And that is why we waited to talk to you," my father said. "Because you are now on probation, and because we pay a large part of your tuition, you will be coming home every weekend so we can ensure you are studying."
"I'm not a child," I said.
"Then stop acting that way and get serious about your career," my father said.
They left before I could even begin to explain the ideas I had for my own life or my own career. Under the harsh fluorescent lights of my dorm room, it seemed like I only had one choice, and it had been made for me.
#
"The problem is that I really did love nursing when I started," I said. "It’s just that it was always overshadowed by Sienna, and then it didn't seem like my choice. And, well, the rest kind of unraveled by itself."
Darla sat on my bed and nodded. "You're good at nursing. I know you'd make a spectacular nurse, but who says that's a good reason for staying in a profession? It’s better to be having these thoughts now than three, four years out of school. Rent, car payments, bills, it could get real ugly, then trying to drop a good nursing paycheck and reach for your dreams."
"What dreams? What if I'm just escaping and the whole gamer world is the easiest path?"
"Easy? I die like 15 times every time I try to play. If you've survived this long, won a tournament, then maybe you should keep going," Darla said. "What I can't believe is that you agreed to go home weekends."
"Well, they never said I'd be under house arrest. They just want to see that I'm keeping up with my studying," I said.
"So, you're really going home to be closer to Owen. Now that, I get."
"Yeah, I'll let you know if it works," I said.
I managed to stay hopeful the entire drive, but as soon as I pulled into Summerlin, I started to worry. Not once had my parents asked if nursing was something I actually wanted to pursue. That was not even an issue to them. I knew as soon as I set foot in their house, I was in danger of becoming the unseen daughter again.
My worry multiplied when I saw a strange car in the driveway. My first night home and my parents had houseguests. So, instead of finishing all my studying that night, proofing it in the morning, and being free to see Owen, I would be stuck playing the dutiful daughter for their friends.
"Hello?" I called in the foyer.
"There you are, baby. Took you long enough."
I reeled back against the door and wondered what nightmare I had walked into. Trent strolled down the hallway with both hands out.
He pried my fingers from the door handle and kissed my cheek. "Your father invited me. Your advisor told him we were dating and he thought it would be a nice surprise before you studied all weekend."
"But that's not your car in the driveway," I said.
Trent pulled me along to the front parlor. "No, that's Nicky's car. I promised him a night in Vegas if he came to family dinner."
Nicky sat across from my father, who was bravely ignoring his see-through mesh shirt. "Trent brought a friend," was all my father said.
"No, no, no, not a friend. Nicky's more of a boy toy," Trent said. "We surprised your father. He was hoping I would come and keep your mind off a certain someone. Turns out I'm not the only one that disapproves of Owen Redd."
"The gamer?" Nicky asked. "Oooh, I do like that magazine cover shot of him."
Trent slapped Nicky's leg. "He's the one I caught with his tongue down my girlfriend's throat."
"Ex-girlfriend," I said. My father was fast becoming an awful shade of purple, but I decided to go with his “honesty is the best policy” course of action. "I broke up with Trent because I caught him having sex with another man. Owen kissed me in a ridiculous ploy to make Trent jealous. It was childish, but that was it."
"He also almost knocked my head off my shoulders," Trent said.
For a moment, it looked as if my father might applaud Owen's efforts. "You should have been honest with me on the phone, Trent. I do not appreciate you coming here to cause a scene. Now, if you'll please excuse us, I believe it would be better for you to go before my wife-"
"Sorry I'm late to the party. Just a few finishing touches," my mother said. She swept into the room in a flowing black dress with a coral red necklace. She often overdressed for dinner, especially when she thought her daughters were entertaining young men.
"Turns out I made a mistake," my father caught her in the door. "Quinn broke up with him and now Trent is here with his new boyfriend."
"Boy toy," Trent corrected him.
"Honestly, Quinn, you can't stick with anything these days, can you?" my mother asked. She peered over my father's shoulder at Trent and Nicky. "Well, boys, the least you could do is pour us all some of that wine."
She took the glass Trent gave her and, in front of everyone, popped two pills into her mouth before her first sip.
Both my parents gave me angry and accusing looks. The room was painfully quiet, as if they expected me to be the one to buoy up the conversation. I pressed my fingernails into my palms and tried not to scream at everyone. How was this supposed to be helping me get back on track? What kind of track was this?
I caught a wicked gleam in Trent's eye before he launched into the raunchy story of how he and Nicky met. My mother pounded her glass of wine and Nicky poured her another before my father could intervene. The entire night was coming apart before my eyes, and then the doorbell rang.
"Hi, I heard you were home. Maybe we can grab some Chinese food before you crack down on studying?"
"Oh my God, Owen," I said. "You could not have come at a worse time. Please, just turn around and run."
Owen laughed. "There is no way I'm leaving now. Whose car is that?"
I pressed my forehead with both hands. "Seriously. I am so glad to see you. I didn't think I would after my dorm room and all that. But I'm telling you that you do not want to be here now."
"I'm not letting your father's misplaced anger keep me from seeing you," Owen said.
He dropped a kiss on the top of my head and strode past me to the front parlor.