Page 58 of Break Points and Face Offs

“It’s good, thank you.”

“You two are partners?”

I almost spit my water back in my glass. Priestley answers while I recover.

“We’re in a group together, yes.”

“Minerva not giving you too much trouble?”

Minerva? Oh, Professor Moreno. For some reason, I don’t like hearing this guy use her first name. He says it with a hint of amusement. As if she’s amusing.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Priestley answers.

“Good,” his dad says. “I trust your group will come out on top.”

When I look at Priestley, he has this faraway look in his eyes as he stares into the tablecloth. It doesn’t even have a pattern, so I’m not sure what he’s staring at. It’s like he’s just going somewhere else. A cold sweat prickles the back of my neck and I try to think of something to say to fill the silence. But then a waiter comes over with our food.

I’m sure it tastes incredible, but I don’t notice. The atmosphere kind of stinks too much for me to enjoy it.

Priestley’s dad leaves the table a few times to take a phone call. The next time he comes back, he tells Priestley that his grandmother sends her regards.

Her ‘regards?’ What the fuck?

“Thank you,” Priestley says.

“And how is Jamie getting on at Alpha Sig?”

“Good, I think.”

“You think? You haven’t been over to check on him?”

“I haven’t had time, not with the project and⁠—”

“Priestley,” his dad cuts him off. He doesn’t raise his voice. He doesn’t have to. Priestley stiffens like he’s just been slapped, his cutlery pausing over his food.

“While you’re at school, your brother is your responsibility. There are no excuses for slacking on your responsibilities. Who are excuses for?” The man speaks so calmly, never pausing as he cuts up his own food, you wouldn’t believe he was admonishing his son. The tone only makes it scarier though. My dad hasn’t had to chew me out for years, but at least when he did, there was emotion in it.

Priestley sets his jaw before answering. “Excuses are for lazy people.”

My blood runs cold. I can’t look at them. I pretend to be eating, pretend I can’t hear.

“And what are we not?”

“Lazy, sir.”

“That’s right.” Mr. Rosenthal cuts into his steak with gusto as he speaks. “You’ll go and check on your brother and make sure he’s fitting in at the fraternity. Make sure he isn’t involved in anything … untoward.”

“Yes, sir.”

I’m so relieved when the meal’s over and we leave Priestley’s dad, I have to take a deep gulp of fresh air.

“Fuck, Priestley, that was⁠—”

He cuts me off. “I’d better get back and do some work.”

He isn’t looking at me. He’s got the coldness dialed up to a million.

“Hey, Rosie, you okay?”