My Champagne Problems

7: Bollinger

"I'm not changing schools," I declare firmly before mum has a chance to even start the conversation.

"Liv, let's talk about this like adults and not jump to conclusions here," mum says, her tone one that of reprimand.

But me being the rebellious person I am refuse to hear anything else and cross my arms across my chest--a sigh mum knows all too well, that reasoning with me is futile.

"Stop being so difficult," Ryan sighs.

"Stop trying to change my life," I bite back before thinking.

"Olivia Hart! Is this the way I have thought you to talk to your elder?" Mum exclaims, her tolerance slowly wearing out.

"You thought me to stand up for myself, and that's exactly what I'm doing," I reply, my tone impassive but the thumping of my heart that I can feel against my crossed arms makes it evident that I'm anything but that.

Not waiting for anything more to be said, and avoiding the eyes of everyone present, I turn on my heels and make a beeline towards the first exit in sight.

Caught right in the middle of an ambivalent state of mine where one part of me wants to do whatever it is to ensure mum's happiness while the other part refuses to process the fact that the said happiness comes at the cost of my happiness.

'Am I being the asshole here?'

'Should I just give in?'

'At the end of this entire ordeal, will I even have any friend left?'

Doing the first thing that comes to my confuzzled mind, I delve into my pant pocket and retrieve my phone, and hit the number that's on speed dial.

"Sup, looser?" Graham's humor-embed voice reaches my ears, calming me down instantaneously, to a considerable amount.

"Bored," I reply nonchalantly, now finding myself outside the opulent mansion and in an equally extravagant garden.

"That you always are," he chuckles. "Now tell me what's really going on?" His voice drops to an octave to a more serious tone.

I sigh. "They want me to change schools," I breathe out.

"And?" He prompts.

"Leave all my friends behind, probably. I don't know Graham, changing schools is bad enough," I reply, frustrated.

"Hey calm down," he instructs, his voice not once faltering from its calm disposition.

"You know how much I hate change," I defend my reaction to the situation.

"I know you do. But I also know that no one can force you to do something you don't want to, so tell me why this time's any different?" He remarks.

I stop myself from replying, taking a moment to think, while my eyes wander around to the array of flowerbeds lining the frame of the garden, sporting an elegant statue of a falcon in the very middle of the land.

"Ryan makes mum happy, and changing school will make him happy," I reason.

"But it doesn't make you happy, does it?" He counters.

'I swear he would make a great therapist someday'

"No," I mumble into the phone.

"Then that's that," he concludes. "Talk to your mum Liv," he adds.

"Don't want to," I reply grumpily, inevitably pouting, and I can almost visualize his eyes rolling at how unreasonable I'm being.

"Yeah, too bad you've got to," he remarks, a subtle hint of humor in his tone.