Fan Girl Read Free Page B

unwilling to inconvenience himself with raising a child, his only concerns being money and power. I just shake my head in denial at her words.
    My grandma leans her arms across the table and grabs my forearm. I look down at her hand and notice the tattoos on her arms for the first time. They are a swirl of colors I can’t make sense of, and glance over at my granddad and see his arms are covered, too.
    I look back up at her face with the wrinkles and white hair. She’s patiently been waiting for me to make eye contact. “I know how your parents are. We thought we were doing the best we could with our Phillip, but sometimes instead of them becoming the people you want them to be, they turn into the complete opposite.” The irony of that was not lost on me. They raised him to be free loving and nonjudgmental, and he turned into a power-hungry man who married… well, her.
    Grandma goes on. “We can only ever do the best we can. And we see how they are with you. We are deeply sorry you have to live this way.”
    Granddad speaks up with his arms folded over his chest. “It’s important that you know this isn’t going to be your life forever. You are going to go to college and do whatever the hell you want. We have made sure you have the money. We know they’ve been pressuring you to attend a school on the West coast, probably Stanford if we had to guess, but rest assured you can attend whatever school you desire.”
    I look back and forth between them. “You know I’m not suicidal, right?” I ask them just to clear that up. This definitely sounds like an intervention. They both laugh, Grandma with a jingling little laugh like Tinker Bell and Grandpa with a rusty, husky wheeze.
    Grandma says, “We know, honey. We just wanted to make sure you knew you could go to any college you wanted to. I’m not sure your parents were planning on telling you that we set up a trust for your college. Do you know what you want to study?”
    I shake my head, not really understanding what a trust was. What did they trust me with? “Not really. I always thought business because it’s broad enough for me to do anything.”
    Granddad nods in approval. “That is smart of you, Alaina. You have a long time to decide. Don’t you worry about anything.   Apply to whatever schools you want and go where your gut tells you.”
    I take a moment to absorb this gift they’ve just given me. My mother has been relentless about my going to Stanford since before I’d known what college was. Honestly, I don’t have anything against the school, but to be that close to my parents, possibly having to live with them since they would be footing the bill… just thinking about it gives me shudders. I also know the tuition at Stanford is close to twenty-five grand a semester. If they say I can go anywhere, they’re giving me some serious dough.
    “Thank you for giving me this opportunity. I won’t waste it,” I tell them.
    They shake their heads in unison, but it’s Grandma that speaks. “Don’t feel any pressure. If you want to change your major ten times it won’t matter. You can stay in college until you’re thirty. Just be happy, honey.”
    I ask the question that’s been driving me insane my whole life. “Why is my middle name Dawson?” If my parents hate these people so much, why did they give me my dad’s last name as a middle name? My parents are so weird. My dad took my mom’s last name when they got married.
    Granddad sighs. “They didn’t like the stigma of our last name. We invested in coffee from Hawaii that is doing quite well. But we choose to travel on the interest alone, never touching the bulk of our fortune. We don’t live in the luxury and high circles befitting our bank account. That has never been important. Your father, however, disagrees. He felt it a wise business decision to take your mother’s more prestigious name when she suggested it, on the condition that their children be Dawson-Pierce. Your father had to