Chapter 4
Ambivalence
He buried his face into the side of his mother's neck as he finally let go and began to sob in her arms.
"Blake," she whispered as her hand stroked up and down his back. "It's okay," she said.
But it wasn't okay.
He couldn't understand why some people could be so cruel— why the same people who strived for generational wealth hated the people who already had it.
"I'll set up a meeting with Dean Baradon in the morning."
It wouldn't matter, the seed had already been planted.
He had been nothing but nice after being paired up with Drake Martinez, a new scholarship kid from Washington Heights, for a class project, but the moment they'd stepped out into the hall after being sent to work in the library, comments had been made about him and his family.
"How are you liking Browning so far?" He'd slung his backpack over one shoulder. "I'm sure it's a hard transition," he'd said as they'd headed down the hall.
"Don't do that."
"What?"
He'd only meant to be polite.
"I don't make small talk with trust fund brats that mooch off their Daddy's dirty money."
His parents had sheltered him from most while growing up, so the name-calling had been the equivalent of having a bucket of ice water dumped over his head.
"You're not a brat, Blake." His mother kissed his temple. "You're sweeter than everyone on this island combined."
He sniffled.
He knew his parents were good people, and, deep down, he knew that he was as much of a good person as a twelve-year-old could be.
"I've already told Dad that I'm not going," she said as her fingers combed through his hair.
"But…"
He didn't want her to go, but he'd feel guilty if he was the reason she stayed.
"But nothing." She squeezed him. "My baby needs me."
His breaths grew even as he relaxed in her arms.