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I wanted a boyfriend more than anything as I set out on this new phase of my life. I was eighteen years old and I’d never had a boyfriend. It was ridiculous, really, but I’d been far too busy with work and keeping my grades up, while I begged for scholarships to have anything to do with boys. Now, I’d get the education I wanted and a boyfriend. I couldn’t wait for the sun to rise so I could get on my way.
I pretended now, as I’d done so often when I’d come home to an empty trailer. Mom worked all the hours that she could to provide for me and to try to help me save up for the years of education that I now faced.
A wave of guilt flushed over my skin as I thought about the fantasy man I longed for. Mom was at work to feed me and send me to school and all I could do was think about a stupid boy. Maybe I should be focused on what classes I had to take and how I’d get around in a place that was so completely unfamiliar, instead of on having sex with a fantasy guy, I told myself.
Tomorrow, I’d leave Mom, my hometown, and I’d go out into the world on my own. An adult to most of the world, but still little more than a teenager. I’d be left to make my own decisions, my own mistakes, and the only person I could blame would be myself. Mom would be back here, counting on me to succeed. I couldn’t let her down.
Still, it was nice to think about the possibilities. Maybe I would have a nice, young, hot professor, I thought. The thrill of the naughty idea made me bite my lip with glee. More than likely all my professors would be old men and women, with less sex appeal than a potato that had sprouted. That made me laugh, and I rolled over in bed to stare up at the faded glow in the dark circles on my bedroom ceiling.
Mom and I had put those up there when I was five, and after all these years, there was still a little bit of glow left. I sighed because I knew the day I’d worked so hard for was just a few hours away. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t concentrate on my fantasy boyfriend or any of the million other thoughts that flitted through my mind.
I pushed the sheet down from my body, the night was still too hot for even that light cover in late August. I’d get up, watch some TV or read a book, but I was desperate to sleep. I wanted the hours to disappear as I dreamed of what was to come. I wanted tomorrow to be now.
Throughout my high school career, I’d been the studious one, the one that spent more time asleep, so she could be fresh for the next day of class, instead of up hours early to work on her hair and makeup. I wasn’t advertising for a teenaged boyfriend to marry and have kids with before we’d even hit the 20-year mark. I had bigger plans than that.
I wanted a career that meant I didn’t have to rely on anyone else, ever. I wanted a homemade of bricks and mortar, not cheap lumber and thin aluminum. I wanted a bathroom where the floor didn’t sag and a kitchen that had appliances that worked. I wanted a life that wasn’t complicated with struggles. I wanted the life Mom couldn’t give me even though she had tried.
And while I worked at it, I’d finally let myself look at boys. I’d finally find a real boyfriend, not the fantasy kind I’d dreamed about for so long. I’d be wanted, loved, adored and it would be perfect.
Chapter Two
Celia
“Celia!” I heard someone whisper my name loudly but thought it must be a dream because I was still asleep.
I was exhausted, I thought. Go back to sleep, girl.
“Celia!” This time, it was louder and accompanied by the thunk of a pillow over my head.
I scrambled up, my arm out to defend my head. “Mom, stop! I’m trying to sleep!”
Even as I said it, thoughts started to filter into my
head. She only used the pillow when I absolutely had to wake up. Otherwise, she’d have just left me to sleep in my own version of zombie land.
“Celia, it’s late, you have to get up!” She stood over me, hands on her hips, arms akimbo as I gaped up at her.
“The bus!” I screamed out as I realized that if I didn’t get on the bus that would take me to the Big Apple, then I’d be stuck in Iowa missing the first week of my new life. My mom could only afford to get one bus ticket, and if I missed this bus then I’d be stuck here. I had worked all summer to get extra money, but that was supposed to keep me going while I was at school. I couldn’t miss that bus.
I’d worked all summer because I knew one thing was for sure, New York wasn’t cheap. I’d known that I would need as much money as possible to live there, which was why part of me felt guilty about going to school there. There were other choices. Closer choices. But they didn’t have the prestige or reputation of NYU for me and I knew that once I completed my studies then I could get a job that would see Mom and I both living well.
I jumped up to have a shower, my last one in the bathroom with the saggy floor and sped through the usual shower routine. I didn’t take the time to condition my hair, today, I just washed it and carried on with the routine. I almost fell when I got out, but managed to brush my teeth, brushed my wet blond hair into a dreadful bun, and then hopped into my bedroom to dress. I threw on the clothes I’d set out the night before, ready to get on the road.
“That was quick!” Mom gasped as I walked into the living room of the tiny trailer.
“Had to be,” I said, a little breathless. Beggars can’t be choosers in this life, and I didn’t run for much in my life, but I did today. I had a lot to run for today.
