Change My Game (North Haven University #2) - Kelsey Clayton Page 0,2

shrink?”

He takes a deep breath, pressing a finger against his temple. “You need to talk to someone, Jace.”

“No. Absolutely not.” I shake my head. “I'm not going. I'm twenty years old. You can't make me.”

As if he was fully expecting that reaction, he levels me with a look. “If you enjoy having access to your trust fund, you will.”

My jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

The whole ride back to campus is dead silent. I should've known something was up. He only wants to go for a drive when he needs to talk about something and is afraid I might cause a scene.

Sure, I could tell him to take my trust fund and shove it up his ass, but then I wouldn't be able to afford the one thing that manages to make things okay. I'd be left to deal with the pain on my own, and I've tried that. They're afraid I'm going to kill myself, but what they don't realize is that taking away my ability to tame the demons inside me could cause exactly that.

We pull up to my car in the parking lot where I left it, and I don't say a word as I jump out. My dad, on the other hand, has different plans.

“I'm just trying to help you, son.”

I snort. “Yeah? Well, threatening me is a weird-ass way of showing it.”

He doesn't try to reason with me or say anything else as I shut the door and he drives away.

Maybe I'm being an ungrateful shit. So my parents worry. Boo fucking hoo. Yeah, I know, poor pitiful rich kid. But their version of caring is to send me to some quack who thinks that because they went to college, they get to tell you how something makes you feel.

Fuck that.

It'd be better if everyone would just leave me the fuck alone.

Leave me to burn in the pits of hell I've ended up in.

Growing up, I always imagined what college would be like. My childhood was practically idyllic, with the perfect parents who gave me everything my little heart desired. But for some reason, I could never stop dreaming about finally being on my own.

I wanted it all.

To move hundreds of miles away.

Dorm life with my best friend.

Parties on the weekends.

And I had it. Everything I had pictured when I was a kid, it was mine—until one phone call from my mom threw my life on a whirlwind trip to hell.

One Month Ago

"Okay, honest opinion," Becca says, holding up two dresses. "Red or black?"

I look them over carefully, comparing each one to her skin tone. "Red."

That must be what she was hoping for, because her smile widens and she tosses the red one onto her bed while putting the other back in the closet.

Tonight is the annual Greek Week party at Lambda Kappa Phi, and the whole sorority is going. Last year, it was a rager, and at least four people ended up in the hospital with alcohol poisoning. Hopefully, people are a little better this time at managing their intake.

Being in a sorority was never a goal of mine, but when my best friend came bursting into our dorm room and wouldn't stop begging me to do it with her, I couldn't say no. It took a while to adapt, but there's nothing wrong with living in a gorgeous house with a bunch of friends you call sisters.

The sound of “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus fills the room as my phone rings. Becca sings along quietly, not even judging my choice in ringtone. It's a classic, okay?

"Hey, mom."

"Hi, baby," she answers. "How's everything going?"

I put my phone on speaker and place it in my lap. "It's good. Just getting ready for a get-together tonight with Becca."

"Hi, Mama McAllister," Bec shouts across the room.

She chuckles, but something feels off about it. "Hi, Rebecca."

Becca cringes at the use of her full name, but never bothers to correct her. My mom has been calling her that since we were babies, refusing to adopt the nickname she started using in first grade.

"Rebecca, go pick out my outfit," I demand.

She grabs a pillow from her bed and throws it at me, sticking her tongue out when it hits me directly in the face. However, the small sniffle that comes through the phone brings all my attention back to my mother.

"Mom? Is everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah." She tries to cover it up, but fails miserably.

"Mom."

It takes her a minute to answer, and a part of me wonders if she's going to try