“I apologize,” I said automatically, not meaning a word of it. “That was disrespectful.”
My father emerged from the restaurant then, still deep in conversation with Mr. Quinn. They were laughing about something, probably some business deal that would make them both even richer. As if we needed any more money. The Quinn girl—Amelia? Amanda?—trailed behind them, her eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.
“Theodore,” my father called, waving me over. “Come here a moment.”
I shot my mother an apologetic look that I hoped conveyed enough false shame to appease her before trudging over to my father. He clapped a hand on my shoulder, squeezing just a bit too hard.
“Mr. Quinn was just telling me that Amelia is quite the swimmer herself,” he said, his smile not reaching his eyes. “She was saying how impressed she was with your form today.”
“Oh?” I managed, glancing at the girl. She couldn’t have been at the meet. I would have noticed her. Which meant she was lying to impress my father.
“I’ve always had a thing for athletes,” she said with a coy smile, twirling a strand of her perfect blonde hair around her finger. “Especially ones who are so...dedicated.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “Thanks.”
My father’s grip tightened on my shoulder. A warning.
“Perhaps you two could practice together sometime,” Mr. Quinn suggested, looking between us with obvious approval. “Amelia’s been looking for a training partner who can keep up with her.”
“I don’t think—” I began.
“That sounds wonderful,” my father interrupted. “Theodore has access to the academy pool. I’m sure he’d be happy to arrange something.”
I wanted to protest, to tell them all that I had enough on my plate without needing to entertain a future wife I didn’t want tomy list of obligations. But my father’s expression made it clear this wasn’t a request.
“Of course,” I said through gritted teeth. “That would be... great.”
Amelia beamed, stepping closer to me. She smelled of expensive perfume and predatory instinct. “I’ll send you a letter,” she said, placing her hand on my arm. “I can’t wait.”
Our car arrived then, saving me from having to respond. After another round of goodbyes and promises to meet again soon, we finally slid into the back seat. I leaned my head against the cool window, watching the city lights blur as we drove toward the teleportation point that would take us back to Widdershins.
“That went well,” my father said, breaking the silence. “The Quinns were impressed with you.”
“They were impressed with the idea of me,” I corrected. “The perfect son who wins swimming medals and gets straight As and dates pretty witches from good families.”
My father’s jaw tightened. “Watch your tone.”
“Theodore is just tired,” my mother interjected, always the peacekeeper. “It was a long day, with the meet and then dinner.”
“I’m not tired,” I said, sitting up straighter. “I’m frustrated. You two arranged that whole dinner to set me up with Amelia Quinn without even asking me.”
“We did no such thing,” my father replied coldly. “The Quinns are important connections. And if you happen to hit it off with their niece, that would be a fortunate development.”
“I’m not interested in her,” I said firmly.
My father turned to face me fully. “And why not? She’s beautiful, well-connected, and from one of the oldest magical families in New York. What more could you possibly want?”
I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it again. What could I say? That I wasn’t attracted to girls? That I had beensneaking glances at the male waiter all evening? That I’d spent more time in the past year fantasizing about my next-door neighbors in the dorm than I had about any girl?
The words caught in my throat. It wasn’t that I thought my parents would disown me. They were progressive enough in that regard. But admitting I was gay would just become another thing for my father to manage, another aspect of my life he would try to control and optimize for maximum social benefit. Then it wouldn’t belong to me anymore… just another piece of myself to put on a social calendar.
“I just want to focus on swimming and school right now,” I said instead, the lie bitter on my tongue. “I don’t have time for dating anyone.”
My father scoffed. “There’s always time for building the right relationships. Your mother and I met at school, and look how well that turned out.”
I glanced between them, wondering if he actually believed that. My parents’ marriage had always seemed more like a business arrangement than a love match. They were cordial to each other, respectful even, but I’d never once seen them show real affection.
“I have midterms coming up,” I said, changing the subject. “And Coach wants me to add morning practices three times a week. I really can’t add anything else to my schedule right now.”