Passing college is a difficult task on its own, but imagine what it's like when your final grade rests in the hands of the worlds' favorite rock-star.
As graduation from her local community college approaches, Reese Taylors yearns for some answers...
{ catharsis } - a cleansing of emotional tension; provides relief and restoration
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My freshly manicured tips tap against our granite countertop, likely driving mom nuts as she scrolls endlessly through Facebook on her phone. She's watching the reels with her volume to the loudest setting, laughing at cute pet videos and taking notes during home hack videos while her daughter nearly has a heart attack sitting across from her.
"Quit tapping your nails. I'm already regretting taking you to get them done," mom scolds without glancing up from her phone. As part of surviving finals week and officially becoming a college graduate, we celebrated with a day at the nail salon where I allowed myself to get acrylics for the first time in twenty years. I've honestly been missing out; this tapping sound is amazing. "And quit refreshing your email. That's not going to make the message magically appear."
"Easier said than done," I grumble, crossing my arms on the counter.
While final grades have already been tallied—granting me a finishing GPA of 3.60—Professor Qing has yet to release the documentaries that he's submitting to the student film festival in NYC. When he had posted our final grade, granting me that sought out A, I called Maia and cried on the phone for two hours. I had asked her to see if she could put Lennon on the phone when she told me she decided to skip out on this tour—making it the first An Echo in Time tour that she's missed out on. She mentioned she found an ad about a studio apartment downtown that was too perfect to miss out on, and that she needed to be around during the summer to fill out paperwork, move in, and acquire all the Maia essentials for her new place.
I'm proud of her for taking that big step to leave the band house, and I'm excited to see where her newfound freedom and independence takes her.
I mean, she's already talked about getting a dog.
Reminiscing about that conversation with Maia reminds me of the one I've been holding off—and dreading—having with mom. I know it's not something I can postpone much longer, having already been questioned by my older sister, Raven, about what my plans were now that I've got an associate under my belt. I managed to deflect that question, but while I sit, waiting for a life-changing email, there's really no better time to have a life-changing conversation.
It's mom, I remind myself, she's always been supportive.
"Mom," I say, before I can talk myself out of it, "can I talk to you about something?"
She continues scrolling, and I'm about to repeat myself until she answers, "Are you finally going to talk to me about that boy I've been seeing all over the Internet?"
