The Silicon Valley Connection

prologue | faith - new beginnings?

Here lies Faith Imani Sommers. Cause of death: San Francisco's hilly sidewalks and roads.

Sighing, I trudge my way up to the peak of what would be my fifth miniature mountain today and note suited CEOs and nervous new hires bustling in and out of nearby cafes and lobbies of towering skyscrapers. Dragging my lead-like legs and feet, I finally reach the apex, but to my dismay yet again, my mother has vanished to God knows where.

After about twenty paces south and a string of grumbles later, I finally spot her in line, paying for a half dozen gluten-free cupcakes. She turns around and meets me with a broad smile, with a red velvet cupcake in one hand and the pale blue cardboard box in the other. My father gives me a wide-eyed look, like a little kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar. Mid-bite into his key lime cupcake, he brushes the crumbs off his dress shirt.

"I tried to steer her away from the shop, but you know how stubborn your mother is."

I narrow my eyes, unconvinced, and he holds his hands up. "In my defense, she was the one who was tempting me." My mother swats him on the arm playfully, and I roll my eyes at their animated affection.

"I hate to break this love fest you two have going on here, but the campus is that way," pointing behind me to the massive, modern building decorated with golden yellow and black balloons that remained from OwlWelcomeWeek. "You two wanted to see my dorm before you headed to work, so let's make sure we do just that. No detours. I kind of have an assignment due at 11:59 p.m., and I don't want to upload enormous files last minute."

My mom shakes my shoulder, making me flop side to side like a fish out of water. "You know I love your studious side, but come on, Faya, live a little. You're a junior now."

And fall behind on my classes that are practical rather than theoretical? No thanks. I glance at my phone again.

3:03 p.m. I have twenty-seven minutes until this "break" is over, and they must be on their way back to their jobs...right? Of course, they hate being late anywhere just as much as I do, but apparently, today's the exception where bugging their daughter for a vlog-like tour of campus seems far more critical. I bite down on my boba tea straw, holding back a witty remark when my father's voice breaks the tension.

"So, are there any cute guys that caught your attention at school? Make you swoon?"

I raise my eyebrows.

"Oh, right. Girls too. I'm still getting the hang of it all, but we're glad you felt comfortable telling us, and as long as you're truly happy, that's all that matters to us."

My mother nods her head vigorously, and I force a smile, appreciating the sentiment.

Truly happy? I abandoned that phrase four years ago.