What It Means to Say, "This Is How I Feel"

The rest of school passed by uneventfully. I got pestered by Mr. Fisher to start asking teachers about recommendation letters, and went through the motions of nodding and agreeing just so he’d leave me alone. I could tell that he thought something was wrong, but my obstinate will was enough to repel his concern.

Of course, the world was determined to push every button I had, as proved by the conversation my mother threw at me as I entered the house.

“You’re home!” My mother said. She sat at the kitchen table, and waved me over. “Come, come. I need to talk to you.”

Oh, god. Was my retake grade that bad? I thought a B- was still good in this day and age! I made my way over to the table like a scared dog, slipping into my seat and mentally preparing myself for a torment only your own mother could inflict. Off to the side, my father not-so-subtly watched from over his newspaper.

At first I couldn’t discern what it was she wanted. All it took was a glance at the table and its massive hoard of college pamphlets to realize what was at stake.Not again. Don’t adults have anything better to do than harass kids over college!? Like hobbies? Watching TV? Anything else???

At my silence, my mother kept speaking. “I wanted to have this talk sooner over later. When I was your age, I had it much harder—I tried to pay my way through college myself, but I never finished my degree because I ran out of money. When I had you, I made sure we put money aside for your education the moment we could.”

“How thoughtful of you,” I said, though deep down it wasn’t anywhere near sincere. I can be an ungrateful son, just this once—No, I still feel like shit. Sorry, mom…

“I hope you meant that,” she said with a tone that bordered on warning.

“Don’t speak that way to your mother,” my father chimed in and hit my shoulder with the newspaper.

“Uh, sorry,” I said. “You can continue, I’ll just…listen…”

“Good!” My mom said, brightening up. “So, I was hoping that we could start to narrow down a list of colleges you want to apply to.”

“I’m not really in the—“ I began, but she had no patience for my complaints. She made that especially clear when she passed over a pile of pamphlets before I had even finished speaking.

“First, I want you to find five safety schools, three within your GPA, and some schools with good reputations.” She pawed through her own stack and threw whatever she seemed most interested in towards me. “Start with what major you want and choose from there. I don’t want you going in undeclared and figuring it out—that’s how you get dropouts, and you’re no dropout.”

I covered my face with my hands. Her stupid expectations, and dropsgum stupid interference coupled with my father’s bored glances wore on me. It was as if the entire world conspired to annoy me as much as possible today, and I couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m not talking about this right now,” I said in a low, frustrated voice, one that elicited a look from my mother that was likely similar to the one I already had on my face.

“Don’t you dare take that tone with me,” she said. “Do you know what I’m trying to do for you? You don’t have to commit to anything, but I want you to be thinking about this. This is your future here—can you at least tell me what you might want to do in the future?”

I pursed my lips. I knew already—I’d known for a long time. I enjoyed writing in a way that nothing else could compare. But did I want to make a career out of it? I knew schools offered programs for it, but…fuck it. If she wants honesty, then honesty is what she’d get.

Before I dared to vocalize my thoughts, though, she beat me to it. “How about computer science? I heard that makes good money. Or you could be a marine biologist and apply to one of those fancy California schools. Just don’t pick English, you already know that language far too well.”

…Nevermind.

I can’t do this.

I pushed myself out of my seat and ran towards the door. I heard her call my name, but I ignored it as I threw myself out the house and down the street. The sun had begun to set, bathing the world in a sea of…pink. Pink and purple.

Even those simple colors reminded me of dropsgum, and our argument. I ran my hand against my face as I walked down the street and around a corner, out of sight. Near our house were a few local restaurants and random stores, so I hid around the side of one and pulled out my phone to check my Eclipse account.

A few more notifications had appeared—maybe she had tried to call me, or maybe she left some messages to tell me that she didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. Either way…

No, I didn’t know how to feel about it, or what to say. I knew creative disagreements, even if it was frustrating for her to jump ahead without me, weren’t worth discarding a friendship you enjoy. I didn’t want to just forget everything. But if I didn’t word it all correctly, I could make it worse!

So how was I supposed to go about this?

There was only one person that came to mind who I could talk to, no matter how much I dreaded the answer. Not my mother, not my father.

I turned back in the direction of home. Maybe I’d be lucky enough to escape with a month’s grounding…