Sweet Rush

Twenty Three

Two words. Scared shitless.

Nothing can calm my nerves from the conversation my parents prolonged for no reason. If they had decided that I won't be returning to New York, I would've rather they ripped the bandaid off while everything was still fresh. I would have gotten over it by now instead of anxiously waiting for my future to be handed to me in a paper plate. My dad, mom and myself are sitting in a semi-circle around the coffee table in the centre of the room. Their tense state reads easily given away by my dad's pursed lips and my mom's folded arms.

"We're only aware of bits and pieces of your current life right now so I'm asking you to please explain. The full truth." my mom gives me permission to speak. At this point there's no more lies I can tell. The one I attempted to hide is finally out, there's no more digging myself into a hole.

I inhale sharply then release.

"Well it started when I realized that I wanted to explore other options before committing to journalism. That then turned into me feeling trapped and controlled which I've basically been my whole life. From living in this town to high school and then in Uni, I felt like I was doing what everyone else wanted for me. I mean the reason why I chose to go to NYU is to escape life here and finally do what I want. After dealing with the idea of dropping out, I decided to finally do it. I got a job at Pritchard which pays well and kept putting up a front about school. It's ridiculous but I didn't want to disappoint you guys knowing that you expect so much great things. I'm sorry."

My eyes dart between my mom and dad as they attentively listen to what I have to say. My dad becomes empathetic, tilting his head to the side with sincerity in his eyes. Mom is a bit difficult to penetrate as she threatens with her hard glare.

"So there's nothing back for you in New York but work?" she lifts a brow.

God no. Should I lie again?

"I have friends and an apartment, I've become quite acquainted with the city and sometime in the future I'll be going back to school there." I hope this is enough for them to be okay with me going back.

Regardless of what they say, I'm leaving. Even if the only thing left for me is Jane and his doomed bar, it's worth so much more than this town. I'd give it up in a heartbeat.

"I mean I don't like it one bit. You dropped out of school, working in a bar, lying to us... what's next becoming a stripper?" my mother's words bite me. I have no such intention of becoming a stripper.

"I am so sorry for lying to you guys but you have to understand I like what I've got in New York right now. It's showing me what life is really like and I rather get it wrong now than later." My words are not only intended to persuade my parents to be okay with me going back to New York but to also let them know that I'm capable of the life I've chosen for now.

"We're happy that you're able to stand on your own two feet but we're still your parents. You never lie to us like it's okay. I don't think I want you going back to that city. You're being lead astray and I think you're better off here." my mom's tone leaves no room for question. She's being completely unreasonable and forgetting that I'm not a kid anymore. Had I been sixteen, their reaction would be completely normal to me but I'm almost twenty and have the capability to choose where I want to live. 

I have friends, work, motivation and possible love in New York. I can't not go back and end what I've started there. 

I attempt to constraint my rising anger but a girl can only try. "Mom, I'm an adult! I'm going back to New York whether you both like it or not because there's nothing for me to do here. I've made friends, found hobbies and just genuinely enjoy who I am in New York. "

"Who do you think you're talking to?" my dad stands up with a stern look etched onto his face. My dad was never the angry parent kind but right now I can see he was moved by my voice of words. I had no intentions of coming off rude or offending anyone but with all the lies I've told this is my truth and their reaction is exactly why I refrain from being honest. 

"You know what Malia, you're right. You're big enough to make your own decisions. You can go over to New York but once you do you're not welcomed here." my mom's speaks prudently, settling on every word she says. Her tone is certain causing my dad to whip his head in her direction at her preposterousness. She's being overtly dramatic but still at the realization of that, it doesn't ease the pain her words left. 

"That's not even fair but nice talk anyway." I end the conversation by removing myself from the room. Tears threaten to spill down my cheeks as I speed walk to the place that I can feel most comfortable in. I've never been betrayed but somehow I imagine this is what it feels like. Like your heart has been ripped from your chest and thrown into an abyss. Like your trust within a person has been violated by their actions and you're just helpless. My mom is a champion at saying things she doesn't meant but this time her words are far too hurtful to take back. It's now a bit past 8 pm and I snuggle into my childhood blanket as a form of consolation. This is when I cry. I feel as they shower my pillow and drip onto my arm. 

I was already packed for my flight in the morning so with the peace of mind I drift into a deep relaxation. 

The temperature of this fall morning is a bit weird. The crisp air was no more and there was nothing but warm breeze kissing my damp skin from the heat. Anyone would easily mistake it for a mint Summer day if we were not in November. I stand outside of the airport waiting for my parents to shuffle out the car. Despite what had happened yesterday, they wanted to see me off. After all, I'm still their only daughter. Soon mom will come around to the idea of me living my own life in New York. Dad will talk some sense into her while I'm gone. 

They walk me to the check in station and then to the waiting area. I'm sandwiched by my parents as I bounce my leg to distract me from the awkwardness between my mother and I. We haven't exchanged any words up until this point but she's been pretty kind all morning. almost as if nothing happened. Soon my flight is being called and both of my parents squeeze me tight. 

"Malia I meant what I said. That doesn't mean that I don't love you. You said it yourself, you're an adult. Show me." my mom gently whispers to me. Now that we were in a different setting with eased minds, her words are less harsh. This is her way of respecting what I want. I don't agree that it's the best way but yesterday she made me feel like I had to choose. She kisses my forehead letting her lips linger for a while. 

"I love you."

"I love you more. Now I know you like that boy so let me know how it goes."