To the Steadfast by Briana Gaitan Page B

they’re about the same age, but it’s unlikely they hung around in
any of the same crowds. Killian only associated with the basketball team.
     “Yeah, I know. I’m
Killian. You were a grade or two below me.”
    An awkward silence
breaks out, but Mischa keeps a firm grip on my hand. I playfully slap Mischa on
the chest. “Guess we better get back to the party. See you later, Killian.”
    “Bye.” He picks up
Adama and turns away.
    Mischa doesn’t say
much, but when we’re a good distance away, he lets go of my hand.
    “How do you know pretty
boy Killian?”
    “He lives next door.” I
shrug nonchalantly.
    “Well, he was staring
at you like you two are sleeping together.”
    This makes me laugh.
“Uh, no.”
    “So you’re not sleeping
with him?”
    “No!”
    “I hope not because if
you’re going to be sleeping with me, you can’t be with anyone else. Do you
understand?”
     “You don’t own me,
Mischa. Until you commit to me, you don’t own me.” It comes out harsher than
expected, but I’m certain it’s a lie. He owns my heart. He’s owned my heart
since the first moment I laid eyes on him.
    The rest of the party
goes by in a blur. The same repeats on Saturday night and Sunday night, and my
friends have taken over the living room and guest bedrooms. I’m supposed to be
studying for finals, but partying all night and sleeping all day leaves little
room for much else.
    The next thing I know,
I’m waking up on one of the patio chairs with the sun in my eyes. I grab my
phone to see it’s after eight. If my calculations are correct, it’s Monday and
I’m already late for school. I sit up and look around. I’m all alone, and I
barely remember the weekend with Violet. Mischa showed up around midnight each
night and we hooked up, but that was the extent of our relationship. I don’t
even know where he went during the day.
     I decide to cut my
losses and begin the cleanup. There weren’t many of us, so the place isn’t too
trashed. Plus we stayed outside most of the time. I pick up all the bottles
scattered around the tables, empty the trash, and go inside to take a shower.
The housecleaner will make the beds and change the sheets.
    As I step out of the
bathroom, I hear the clanking of the front gates closing. Either my Mom or the housekeeper. 
I get dressed and walk downstairs just in time to see my Mom waltz in. She’s in
a crisp pantsuit looking extremely perfect. Her dark hair falls around her
shoulders. She’s aged well with her olive complexion and large gray eyes. Most
people will say I look like my father, but even having a fraction of my
mother’s beauty is fine by me.
    “What are you doing
here?” she comments before setting her purse and luggage down.
    “I wasn’t feeling well
so I stayed at home.”
    She flips through a
stack of mail on the table. “Just don’t make a habit of it. Anyway, good thing
you’re here. Nona’s home is having a family get together tonight. You need to
make an appearance.”
    “Nona?” I exclaim,
jumping closer. I don’t dare touch my mother, she doesn’t like it.
    “Yes, don’t be so
dramatic. Your father is going down there this evening. I’ll expect to see you
there later on.”
    “Yes, of course.”
    Nona, my only living
grandparent, and I haven’t seen much of each other lately.
    “Oh and Dakota?”
    I wince.
     “Next time you have a
party, please tell your guests to close the gate behind them. We have privacy
for a reason.”
    She doesn’t say
anything else before walking away.
    “Yes, ma’am,” I mumble
in a sarcastic tone.
    I follow her into the
kitchen and begin fixing myself some coffee.
    “Oh, and one of your
teachers called me this morning.”
    My shoulders drop. “Oh,
really?”
    “Don’t play dumb.
Apparently, you are falling behind in math. He wants to have a parent-teacher
conference.”
    “Hmm.” I take a sip of
my coffee and hop up on one of the barstools.
    “I don’t have time to
waste meeting with all your