Read Forever An Ex for Free Online

wrong?” I asked, wondering what tween angst I had to deal with now. Were girls picking on her, bullying her the way I’d been? I understood adolescent envy, and for young girls, there was a lot to envy about Angel.
    â€œI just have a lot on my mind,” she said.
    I chuckled. “Angel, you’re eleven. You shouldn’t have anything more on your mind than what you’re going to wear to casual Friday at school tomorrow.”
    â€œI’m not that shallow. I may not be grown, but I’m really mature for my age.”
    â€œOkay,” I said, chuckling. I didn’t know why my daughter was so determined to be grown. “What’s on your mind?”
    She released a long-drawn-out sigh. “My future.”
    In that instant, I knew where this conversation was going. I’d been able to avoid it with Angel for two weeks since I’d first heard this nonsense from Caroline. And I certainly hadn’t said anything about the talk I had with Bobby. To me, this was a closed subject, though it felt like my daughter was about to kick it wide open.
    Angel began, “Dad said that you guys talked about me going to New York. That’s why he came by the other morning, right?”
    I spoke slowly because everything I said had to be on point. “That’s right.”
    She lifted her head from my chest and looked straight at me. “Mom, I really want to do it. I want to go to school in New York.”
    I’d said no to Bobby, but saying no to Angel wasn’t going to be so easy. And clearly saying no to Bobby didn’t mean much since he’d still gone behind my back and talked to Angel anyway.
    â€œI don’t want you to be mad at Dad,” she said, as if she’d heard my thoughts. “It’s just that today, I asked him if he had talked to you and he told me he did and that you weren’t happy about it.”
    â€œHe shouldn’t have done that,” I told her. “He shouldn’t have talked to you about what he and I discussed. This is grown folks’ business.”
    â€œI know, but Dad treats me differently than you do. He treats me more like an adult.”
    â€œAnd that would be wrong since you’re a child.”
    â€œWell, maybe not like a grown, grown, grown adult, but he treats me like I’m mature, so we talk about everything.”
    The next time I saw Bobby . . .
    Before I could plot out all the ways I was going to handle him, Angel said, “Mom, why don’t you want me to go?”
    â€œIt’s not necessary.”
    â€œBut it is! Because my whole life I’ve wanted to be a singer, and a dancer, and an actress, and a model. And I know that if I want to do all of those things, I have to be really trained. And the School of Performing Arts is the best place in the world for me to get my training.”
    â€œI think ‘the best place in the world’ is a slight exaggeration. We’re in L.A., this is the home of actors and models and dancers and singers. Look at all the classes you’re taking.”
    Angel looked at me as if I had a “Big Dummy” tattoo on my forehead. “Okay, Mom,” she said. “I know you’re spending a lot of money on everything for all of my lessons and classes and I’m really grateful. But these classes right here—they’re amateur hour compared to the training I’ll get in New York at the School of Performing Arts.”
    I had to shut my mouth and look at my daughter for an extra minute before I answered. She was starting to sound—a little grown.
    â€œWhat do you know about the School of Performing Arts?” I asked, trying not to sound like I was getting an attitude. And believe me, I was getting an attitude because I (with Bobby’s checkbook) paid a lot of money for her dancing classes with Debbie Allen, her acting classes with Raquel Wendy Robinson, and it had cost a small fortune for Bobby to fly in one of