My One Night: An On My Own Novel by Carrie Ryan (life books to read .txt) 📕

just needed to be allowed to finish making them. And that was the crux of it.

Dillon’s childhood and life had been so much harder than mine. I had to make sure that my family understood that I needed to be my own person, one who made autonomous decisions.

Knowing that didn’t make this evening any easier.

We sat down for roasted chicken with rosemary, and three types of vegetables. There were no potatoes or rice pilaf or anything of the sort on the table. We had long since given up most carbs, though I knew my dad snuck in a roll or two at work.

I wasn’t going to rat him out tonight. Or ever.

“How are your classes going?” my mother asked.

“They’re great.”

“All As, I assume?” my father asked, his attention on his plate.

I nodded. “Yes, it’s been a tough and challenging semester, but I’ve enjoyed it.”

“Of course, you’re getting all As. We would expect nothing less.”

In other words, if I got anything but As, they would be disappointed in me, and I’d have to hear another lecture. It didn’t matter that I was paying for my semesters through scholarships and loans. That’s still what they wanted.

I was also taking at least three extra credit hours more than most people, which was why I couldn’t get a job as I wanted. I’d taken the loan to focus on those three to six extra credit hours a semester. That way, I could work on my double major. Only I wasn’t sure my parents truly understood why I was doing it. They never expected me to get a job. They had wanted to pay for school so I was always under their thumbs. When I politely declined, they assumed that I had just meant I was good enough to get a scholarship; therefore, I had to be the best. Yet they were still putting me under their thumbs.

I needed to get out of this situation. Tonight would be the big talk. I pushed my food around my plate, my stomach growing heavy. I wasn’t sure I could eat anything but the few bites I had already taken. My mother noticed, her eyes narrowing again.

“Have you set your schedule for the next semester yet? We’ve looked through the pamphlets and tried to call your counselor, but once again, they wouldn’t speak to us.”

I ground my molars. “Because I’m nearly twenty-one. You don’t have the authority to discuss my grades or anything else with the school.”

“We want what’s best for you,” Father added.

My mother waved it away, even as my father ground his teeth. “That doesn’t make any sense. We’re your parents. We tried so hard for you, darling. We want to make sure that you have everything you could ever need or want.”

I held back a sigh, not sure exactly what she meant by that. They’d tried so hard for me? “My grades are good, and I’ve been working on my schedule. It’s a little more complicated as I’m nearing my final year. That means I have to be careful about what classes overlap for the last two semesters. But I’m going to be taking a couple of summer classes, as well. They’re online so I can work on an internship, but it’s getting done.”

Both of my parents stopped eating and looked at me. My mom tilted her head.

“Internship?” she asked. She looked over at Dad. “Did you discuss this with her? I thought we were waiting until after her fourth year to work on internships. And I was going to get her first.”

They began arguing again, talking about their plans from before I was even born and what their child needed to accomplish. Honestly, with all their ideas of children and futures, I was always surprised that I was an only child. The amount of success they imagined for me always seemed like something for far more than only one child.

They always had plans and worked hard to achieve them. In another life I’d even appreciate them. I’d had everything I’d ever wanted, including their love and attention even with their busy jobs, but they were also demanding. So much so that it was hard not to be bitter about it. I let out a low growl. I hadn’t meant to let the sound escape, and they both looked at me.

“Excuse me?” my father said, his voice low.

I might as well begin here. “I got the internship on my own. It’s going to earn me credits, and though I won’t get paid, I’ll still be saving money when it comes to school since my summer classes don’t count towards the scholarship.”

“You know we’ll pay for it,” my mother said, and I shook my head.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t need that. I have it handled.”

“Where exactly is this internship?” my mother asked, her voice steely.

I set down my fork and knife and raised my chin. “As I said, I’m going to be a physical therapist. I’ll be working at a clinic, behind the scenes, and taking in as much as I can. I still have a lot of school and classes to come after I get my two bachelor’s degrees. So, yes, I got my internship. It was highly contested, but I did it.”

Dillon had been so proud of me. He and the boys, as well as my roommates, had thrown me a party. Just us and Mackenzie, where we had sheet cake from a grocery store and cheese and other random appetizers. It had been fun, sweet, and I had felt so proud of myself.

And all of that turned to dust at the look on my parents’ faces.

“No,” my mother said. “That was not our plan.”

I hated this, but I was determined to stand up for myself. “That wasn’t your plan or Dad’s. Though the two of you have separate plans from each other. And neither of them is mine.”

“After everything we’ve done for you, you’re going to do this?” my mother asked.

“Yes, I guess so. But I’m not doing it to you. I want