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PROLOGUE
“I can’t believe you pickedcommunications!”
“Of course she’s picked communications. How does this surprise you? She’s very good at it.”
“I just thought she’d pick something more sensible, that’s all. You’re not even that good of a writer. How do you expect to be good at communications?”
My parents argued back and forth over the dinner table about my future. I sat in silence. It never did any good to argue with them.
“You can do so much more than that.” My dad took another sip of his wine. It was some kind of expensive Zinfandel made from highly rare and specially cultivated grapes that only grew in one very secret part of some tiny country. I think. All his wine was fancy and overpriced, and it all tasted like sour milk to me.
He continued his rant. “You’re smart, Maria. And you could do anything you wanted to do. Why would you want to dothat?”
“Do you know all the things I could do with a communications degree?” I started, prepared to defend my choice.
“Don’t interrupt me, young lady.”
“You asked me a question! I was answering!”
“With another question? It was rude. Now listen to me.” He took another sip of his wine.
I sat, listened, and seethed.I cannot wait to get out of here.
“Your mother and I have agreed to help you pay for your college education.”
Great. So helpful. Thanks.
“But we want to make sure that if we’re paying for it, it’s a degree that will help you. We want to invest in your future, not funnel that money down the drain.”
“Don’t you think that’s logical, dear?” My mother asked as she leaned forward, as if begging me to see reason. Or begging me to agree with dad so this argument could be over. I think she only agreed with him because he was so frustrating when he didn’t get his way.
I nodded, still clenching my jaw and refusing to speak since I’d been so absurdly shut down.One of these days they’ll respect me as an equal… and I may or may not have any respect left for them by that point.
My father continued, swirling his wine as he spoke. “So we think something more fiscally forthcoming would be a better choice. Medicine, or law, or something in the sciences. Not aglorified English degree. You speak English, you don’t need to learn how tocommunicate.”He rolled his eyes.
It would be nice to have my voice heard every once in a while,I thought.It would be nice to be respected. It would be nice to beallowedto do anything, since apparently I’m capable of it.
“Okay, Dad. I’ll think through some other ideas.” I gave him the answer I wanted to end the conversation.
I knew in the end it didn’t matter too much what I majored in. There were three things I wanted in the world: to be respected by my peers, to make my own way in the world independent of handouts and favors, and to get out of this house. I was over my parents questioning every choice I made and scorning me for every word I uttered.
Besides… even if they didn’t help with college, it wasn’t like they couldforce meto major in something. Once I moved out, I was never moving back. I could work, get scholarships, and even go part time if I needed to. But I knew college was my ticket and my future. I just had to get out of this house.
“Maria, turn on the news, it’s seven o’clock.” My dad turned his seat slightly so he could watch the TV from the kitchen table.
I stood and did as he asked, choosing not to comment that he could very easily do it himself, since he was closer to the TV than me. That was an argument I didn’t feel like having.
“Oh, wow, Andrea looks nice tonight,” my mom said, commenting on the news anchor’s appearance. “I love her hair. I wish I could get mine to look like that. And she always wears such pretty dresses.”
My dad shoveled more casserole into his mouth. “You think they hire girls like that for the news just because they’re pretty? Or do they have to be smart, too?”
I rolled my eyes and tried to block them out, but then a few moments later, I noticed they were sitting quietly, hanging on every word Andrea the Seven O’clock News Anchor said.
I stood and started on the dishes in silence, a subtle smile on my face. Maybe that’s what I’d do after college. I wasn’t totally sure what being a news anchor entailed… but it couldn’t bethatbad of a job. Right?
One of these days, they’ll sit there silently and listen to me. Or at the very least, I won’t have to listen to them shout.
“Maria, make sure not to put that bowl in the dishwasher,” my mom said suddenly, startling me. “It has real gold on it. It was your grandmother’s.”
