Buffy hadn’t wanted to speak to her father, and in retrospect she wished she’d refused. Not that it would change his mind on things in the least. Not even pleading worked, and she’d tried. He was one of the most stubborn people she knew, save for Spike.
She kept reliving it, every word of that blasted conversation. And every time she felt just a little more lost.
“Hi, pumpkin.”
“Hi, dad.” Buffy tucked her hair behind her ears nervously, wondering what the reason for his call was.
“So how’s cheerleading going, are you captaining the squad out there?”
Buffy bit her lip, fighting off the wave of disappointment. “I’m not cheerleading anymore, remember? I’m just on the swim team, so I can focus more on my studies.”
“Any meets coming up soon?”
“A couple.” Buffy twisted the cord around her fingers, trying to keep it short and blunt so she could end the conversation as quick as possible.
“How’d you go in LA? I would’ve come to the races myself but I was swamped with work.”
“I did well.” Pride stepped in. “Actually I won or placed most of my events.”
“That’s my girl.”
Buffy bit her lip, silencing the instant rebuttal. She was not his girl.
“Were there any scouts?”
“I don’t know, don’t think so.”
“When is your next meet?”
Buffy frowned. Her dad was showing a surprising amount of interest in her swimming. And that was odd. According to Hank it was a waste of time even competing.
“Next week,” she finally answered slowly.
“It’s in LA, yes?”
Now Buffy was really becoming suspicious. The meet was in LA, another weekend trip like the last one a few weeks ago. “Yes it is. But I don’t think I’m going to go.”
Going would mean spending a lot of time on a bus with Spike—time at the hotel with Spike, time in the pool with Spike—most of it without adult supervision or the support of her friends. Beth and the girls on the team would be there, but she also knew they were friends of Spike’s first.
The last time they’d been to LA together was when their flirtation kicked up a notch. It was where they’d shared their first real kiss. And Buffy didn’t need the reminders. It would weaken her resolve, and the last thing she wanted was to fall back into his arms, not when they still had so many issues to resolve before... if she decided to give it another go.
“Don’t be silly. You should go. ”
“Dad—”
“I’ve a friend who’s a scout for a couple Ivy League schools on the east coast. Harvard, Yale, Stanford. You could have your pick.”
Buffy frowned, as realisation began to set in. This conversation was taking an all too familiar track. “But I don’t want to go to school on the east coast, I want to stay here.”
Hank let out a frustrated sighed. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
“But dad—”
“If I’m paying your tuition it’s going to be somewhere that’ll open doors for you in the future. You don’t seriously think UC Sunnydale is adequate, do you?”
“I could get a scholarship.”
“Buffy.”
The way he said her name made her freeze with fear. Buffy knew his response already, flashes of the conversation they’d had weeks ago coming to her mind. Back then she’d hoped he would be more reasonable to next time they spoke but her wish wasn’t granted.
“No daughter of mine is going to community college.”
“I’ll apply at UCLA,” she interrupted desperately. “Please, dad. I’ll even come live with you.”
“Oh well, isn’t that generous of you.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“That ship has sailed,” Hank replied tersely. “We could’ve applied early but you wouldn’t agree, so you’ve forced my hand.”
“Forced your hand?” Buffy gasped. “So what, because I wouldn’t agree to live with you in LA before now you’re going to make me move half way across the country?”
“No pumpkin, it’s not like that at all,” Hank cooed condescendingly. “I just want the best for you.”
Buffy felt the tears began to well in her eyes but she blinked them away angrily. “And if I refuse?”
Hank’s voice became icy. “Then I’ll be forced to put your mother’s house on the market.”
Buffy gasped in shock. No... He couldn’t, he wouldn’t do that.
“Dad...”
“It’s your choice, Buffy.” His voice had taken on a decidedly smug tone. “You can apply to the Ivy League colleges on the east coast. I’ll set you up in your own apartment, get you a car if you need it and you can receive the education you deserve. You won’t want for anything.”
Buffy could not believe he was demanding this of her. Her mind was on the brink of completely shutting down due to shock.
“Or,” Hank continued, “you can refuse my generous offer, go to community college, and your mother will find herself evicted from the house.”
“Please, dad.”
“Make your choice, Buffy.”
Make her choice? She didn’t have one. He’d forced her hand. And he knew it. For the first time in her life Buffy actually hated her father.
“Okay.”
“Good. It’s settled.”
The smug tone was back, and Buffy found herself clenching her jaw in response.
“I’ll send the application papers to you by courier this morning; they should arrive by the early afternoon if not sooner. I want you to fill them in and sign them immediately and then send them back to me.”
Buffy nodded numbly.
“We both know swimming was never going to fund your entire education, but a partial scholarship won’t hurt, especially now I’m setting you up with an apartment. So make sure you attend that upcoming meet.”
Again Buffy nodded.
“Did you hear me, Buffy?”
Buffy swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat.
“Yes, dad.”
“Do you think she’s okay,” Willow asked with concern, chewing on her bottom lip anxiously.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Xander replied, not nearly as confident as he sounded.
When Buffy hadn’t shown up this morning they both figured maybe she’d decided to skip first period. It was her one class of the day with Spike, and it was understandable she’d not want to be near him. But when she didn’t turn up to the next two classes either they both started to worry.
“She’s probably just taken the day off to get her head straight,” Xander suggested.
“Yeah,” Willow replied, still worried. “She probably wants to spend some time alone.”
“Exactly.”
The bell sounded, signalling lunch and they both collected their books and made their way to their lockers.
Fuck...
He was screwed.
After Snyder had busted him trying to sneak off campus Spike had spent a good part of the morning in the Principal’s office being lectured at. The sum of it was Snyder had it in for him. Well, that’s how it seemed from his end anyway.
After a right thorough talking to, one in which his permanent record was flashed before him, Spike had come to realise he was hanging on by a thread.
One more misstep and he was off the swim team.
Off the swim team he wouldn’t be able to afford to go to college.
In effect, his life would be over.
Spike wasn’t what you’d call a model student, and while he passed his classes it was not with flying colours. He was counting on a swimming scholarship to get him into college. And now his very position on the team was in jeopardy.
As much as Spike wanted to tell Snyder where he could shove his student file and shoot off campus to find Buffy, he couldn’t. He had to think with his head right now. He had to think ahead.
What sort of future could he offer Buffy without a college education?
He’d have to tread the straight and narrow for the rest of the year if he didn’t want to fuck up his chances of a decent life after graduation. He could last another three months, right?
So it was with great annoyance—which he made crystal clear—that Spike stomped his way to class.
Oh, and the cherry on top of the disaster of a morning?
Detention.
As promised, the courier arrived on her doorstep a little after midday. Buffy accepted the package, scrawling her name messily on the delivery guy’s little scanner thing, and closed the door.
Opening the file, she spread the documents out in front of her. She laughed, a sad sarcastic little laugh, when she read the typed letter on the top of the stack.
Make me proud.
Dad xoxo
Buffy doubted that was even possible.
She sighed with resignation as she ordered the papers, keeping the brochures aside for future perusal. She figured she may as well become acquainted with them, considering she’d be attending one of them in the fall.
It was time to get to work.
Willow’s eyes found Spike’s almost the moment she entered the cafeteria, his own gaze roaming. She knew who he was searching for, the same person she was.
Buffy.
Asking Xander to grab her something hot, she pushed through the crowded room to Spike’s side.
“She’s not here,” she pointed out, her gaze still roaming his face. He looked so concerned. It was hard to reconcile that the Spike before her—who was acting like a worried boyfriend—was the same Spike who’d deliberately kept one of her best friend’s ‘occupied’ for a week, just so that Cordelia could latch her claws into Angel.
And it hadn’t even worked.
From what Willow had seen so far Angel hadn’t shown the least bit of interest in Cordelia, much to the brunette’s annoyance.
“I can see that,” Spike finally replied. Frustrated he sat down at the empty table. He was surprised that Willow was talking to him. And the surprise doubled when the red head sat with him. He’d have thought that she’d want to be as far away from him as possible.
“Why’d you do it, Spike?”
The hurt tone of her voice was what stopped his roving eye, meeting hers. So that’s why...