Read Educating Simon for Free Online

He was leaning against the doorframe, no doubt trying to look casual. I blinked stupidly for about three seconds. Was he really prodding me to lay into him? And if I did, what would the consequences be? Doing my best not to shout, because I wanted to sound eminently sane, I said, “Do you have any concept of what this is doing to me? Wrenching me away from everything in my life? And if that’s not enough, it’ll ruin my chances of getting into university where both my father and I want me to go, one of the best in the world, where I could get myself set up for the rest of my life! ” I shouted that last bit. So much for sanity.
    He blinked softly, rather like a cat when she’s looking at you and wants to let you know it isn’t a confrontational stare she’s giving you. Silence.
    â€œWell?!?” I slammed my phone onto the bed as punctuation.
    His voice still calm and soft, he said, “I have a feeling there’s more. Why don’t you get it all out into the open?”
    I stood, hands clenched at my sides. At first, words failed me, but not because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know where to start . I glared at him, willing my eyes to shoot fire.
    â€œFine. You and Mum have made me into the red-haired stepchild, literally and figuratively. You’ve ganged up together, and I’m odd man out. If you insist on being married, you could have waited long enough for me to finish one more year of school, and I’d be on my own, at university. Or if you couldn’t wait to do unmentionable things together in my father’s bed, you could move to London instead of ripping me out of my home during my almost-finished formative years. Your daughter’s young enough to be flexible. There are all kinds of ways you could proceed without ripping my life to shreds. And my dear mother”—I wanted to spit at this point, but it would have been uncouth—“is proceeding with all these plans that destroy my life, and she lies to me to make it more convenient for herself.”
    I was breathing hard through my nose, all those things I’d been dying to say strewn about the floor.
    He blinked again, that soft gesture. “Have you said all this to her? Those alternatives?”
    â€œOh, trust me, there’s nothing left unmentioned.”
    â€œAnd what did she tell you were the reasons?”
    â€œAll she said was that we’re doing it. There are no reasons. ‘Because, ’ that’s why.”
    â€œYou’re sure?” Something in his voice told me this was not a surprise to him, that he was merely verifying the information.
    â€œLook, I don’t know where you’re going with this—”
    â€œI think you deserve to understand what’s behind our decisions. I know your mother’s been reluctant to tell you, and she has her reasons, but I think you need to hear everything.” He gestured towards the stairs. “Please. Let’s go where we can talk together, all three of us.”
    He had my attention; that was certain. He seemed to think there were things I didn’t know about this horror show, things I needed to know, things Mum had kept from me. That is, more things she’d kept from me. Wary though I was, curiosity got the better of me. I followed him downstairs to the sitting room and settled into my favourite chair, a big, overstuffed thing that we will no doubt leave behind. Legs tucked under me, huddled into this giant lap for comfort and protection, I waited whilst BM went to fetch Mum from the kitchen. I heard a teacup settle onto its saucer, and then a short, nearly whispered conversation.
    â€œEm, it’s time. We need to let him know the whole story.”
    â€œBrian—”
    â€œEm.” His calm voice took on—not an edge, exactly. It was a tone of finality.
    â€œNo, listen. I was going to tell him. That’s why I followed him upstairs earlier.”
    â€œThen