Love, Comment, Subscribe by Cathy Yardley

CHAPTER 37

“Well, this is unexpected,” Tobin’s mother said as she put sandwiches in front of him and his father. “We didn’t plan to see you for another week or so.”

“What, I can only have lunch with you once a month?” Tobin tried to joke, even as he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

“No. But that certainly seems to be all you have time for,” his father said dryly.

Tobin squelched a sigh. “I do actually have a reason for stopping by,” he said. He nudged the sandwich—a ham and brie with wilted spinach. One of his favorites, actually. He took a big bite.

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” his mother said as she sat down with her own plate and a glass of water. “What’s going on?”

Tobin kept chewing, trying to think of how best to approach it.

“I think we already know what it’s about,” his father said, and Tobin stared at him, startled.

“You do?”

“I can’t say that I approve,” his father said. “That last video. Good grief. What does Lily’s family think?”

Tobin choked.

“Are you all right?” Once his mother was assured that he wasn’t dying of asphyxiation, she also tutted. “I can’t imagine the Wangs are happy with their daughter climbing into bed with you—on tape, Tobin! Honestly. What is wrong with you?”

Tobin spluttered. “That’s the joke, Mom,” he protested. “Lily and I had been making these videos, and everyone insisted that we were together romantically. So we decided to make a parody, just a big joke video. It was a joke.”

“She was naked,” his father said. “First in a tub with you, then in bed!”

“She was wearing a bathing suit,” Tobin said, conveniently leaving out that when they were in bed, she really wasn’t. He felt his body heat, just for a second, as he remembered that moment.

Thankfully, being at his parents’ house tended to crush any possible feelings of desire into dust. “You know people are going to judge her more harshly because of this,” his mother pointed out, ignoring his bathing suit comment. “You’ll seem like a big stud, but she’s going to look like—and forgive me—but she’ll seem like a slut.”

He forced himself not to roll his eyes. “All part of the gag, Mom. Besides, she already has to run the gauntlet of people who judge what she does and call her a slut, and worse.”

“Worse?” His mother sounded appalled. “And she wants to be a part of this business? Why?”

“Because . . .” He stopped himself. “We’re going far afield.”

“Just a big joke,” his father muttered. “Does that mean you’re not seeing her?”

Tobin grimaced. “We’re dating,” he said, which he was pretty certain was the case.

His mother at least looked pleased. “She’s lovely,” she said. “So polite! Although I have to say I’m a bit surprised. You two usually seemed to be at each other’s throats.”

“Sexual tension,” Tobin drawled, and his father scowled.

“More respect, please,” his father said, then bit into his sandwich. “I suppose she’s going to be at that reunion of yours tonight.”

Tobin was looking forward to it with every fiber of his being. They’d been apart for a few days now, although they’d texted each other the whole time. She said she had big news for him tonight, and he texted the same—although his was asking her to officially be his girlfriend—and go with him to Australia and New Zealand for his “rejuvenating” adventure. He smiled, thinking of it.

“Well, you must be in love, with a smile like that,” his mother teased. “She’s good for you.”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“So that was it? You wanted to let us know you’re dating Lily Wang?” his father clarified.

Now or never. Tobin put his sandwich down, wiped his hands, then surveyed his parents. “I’m going to be taking a break,” he said.

They looked at him with obvious confusion. “A break from what? Lily?” his father asked. “You just started dating her!”

“From YouTubing. From posting videos,” Tobin said when they still looked confused. “Just for a month, maybe a few. I’m burned out. I can’t come up with any new ideas, and it’s been like pulling teeth to stay on even a semiconsistent posting schedule. The video series with Lily was a godsend, but even as much as I enjoyed those, I’m hitting a wall.”

“But what about your big plans?” his mother pressed. “I thought you said your agents had ideas for you. Maybe a TV series or something?”

“I’m keeping my options open,” Tobin hedged, “but I don’t think I’m going to be pursuing that. Not right now. There will be other opportunities.”

“There will be other opportunities?” his father repeated, eyes wide. “This . . . this is your idea of a business strategy? Taking an extended vacation and then trusting that something’s going to come up? That’s not a plan! That’s . . . that’s . . .”

“Blind faith?” Tobin filled in.

“That’s crazy!” his father thundered. “I may not have agreed with this . . . I can’t even call it a job. This thing you do for income . . .”

“Technically, that’s a job,” Tobin said under his breath, causing his father to glower even more.

“But if you’re going to do something, you damned well need to do it! Why in the world would you half-ass it? Why walk away when you’re successful?” His father looked at him like he had indeed lost his mind. “Are you trying to sabotage yourself?”

Tobin sighed. He’d known they’d have a difficult time understanding it, but he had hoped it wouldn’t be quite this problematic. “I am doing what’s best for my business,” Tobin said firmly. “I need a sabbatical.”

“Oh? Is someone paying you during this little sabbatical of yours?” his father snapped.

“Actually, I will continue getting ad revenue from views of my previous content,” he said as calmly as he could. “It’ll be enough to pay the bills for a while.”

His father’s eyebrows knit together, and he could see that the man was trying hard not to yell or possibly even shake some sense into his recalcitrant son. “But aren’t there new YouTubers all the time? I can’t imagine people are going to sit around waiting for you to . . . to find yourself or decompress or whatever! You’re throwing away everything you’ve built!”

The pressure on Tobin’s chest was heavy and familiar. How many times had he had similar conversations—about high school or college? Or extracurriculars? They’d never been happy that he was a solid B student throughout high school, and dropping out in his second year of college had certainly solidified their disappointment.

“I just . . . I just keep waiting for you to grow up, Tobin,” his father said, and he actually wore a look of disappointment, despair, disgust. Take your pick.

Tobin swallowed hard, the sandwich sitting like lead in his stomach.

“Hon, this doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” his mother interrupted, and Tobin stared at her. Not that she wasn’t supportive, per se. But she normally presented a united front with his father. His father looked just as surprised. “In fact, it presents an opportunity.”

“It does?” Tobin asked. Now he was the confused one.

“Of course.” She smiled, a small satisfied smile. “Now you’ll be able to go back to school and finally finish that degree.”

Tobin felt aghast, even as his father tilted his head and nodded. “That’s not a bad thought,” his father agreed. “If you’re taking a break anyway.”

Tobin stared first at his mother, then his father. “Fuck. No.”

“Tobin!” his father shouted. “Language!”

“I don’t know how else to tell you. I am not going back to college. I don’t need the degree. I am not spending that kind of money for something that ultimately is not going to help me.”

“Tobin, education is important!”

“I value my education,” he said. “I think it’s great—for some people. But not me. Not with my ADHD.”

“Oh, God, this again,” his father muttered.

Something in Tobin shifted. Maybe it was finally admitting he was burned out. Maybe it was the fact that relief and freedom were so close. Maybe it was because being with Lily had somehow loosened things up in him. He liked the support. Now, he could almost imagine her next to him. Like when she’d first kissed him, and encouraged him, even let him do her makeup for a shoot when he knew she hated relinquishing control . . . all because he’d been so spun out.

He didn’t have to be unhappy, trying to prove himself to people who weren’t going to get it. Even if the people who didn’t get it were his parents.

“I told you my decision because I love you,” Tobin said, “and because there’s a good chance I won’t be here for the next lunch. I’m going to travel, recharge my creative batteries.”

“Traveling?” His mother looked shocked. “Where?”

“I was thinking Australia and New Zealand, maybe,” he said. “Or Japan. Hell, I might go to Iceland. Haven’t decided yet. I just didn’t want to leave the country without letting you know first.”

“And this is your grand plan?” his father said. “How can you—”

Tobin held up a hand, then cut over his father’s voice. “I know you’re unhappy with my choice here. But the fact is, it’s my choice. I love you, but I don’t need to get your permission. And I don’t want to disappoint you, but I am going to do this whether you’re disappointed or not.”

“Then what’s the point?” his father yelled, getting to his feet. “What’s the point in even talking to us? Why come once a month, your little grudging time? Why pretend that you respect our opinion!” He pointed at the door. “You might as well leave. And consider whether or not you want to even bother coming back!”

Tobin stared at him.

“Jacob,” his mother breathed to his father, her eyes wide and glassy. “Now, come on. Tempers are a bit high, and . . .”

“I love you both,” Tobin said quietly. He got up and headed for the door, his mother on his heels.

“He doesn’t mean it,” she said, sounding nervous. “He’s just upset. This is a shock.”

“I’m going to be traveling,” Tobin said, giving her a hug. “I’ll call, let you know how I am. And we’ll talk when I get back.”

He left the house and got into his truck, feeling low. This was hard, but important. He headed back to his house to get changed for the reunion.