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Besides, like I concluded last night, I wasn’t living in a fairytale. Some gorgeous billionaire wouldn’t magically fix my problems. They’d be fixed by hard work, picking up these extra shifts, and doing my best to get a loan at this bank.
An hour and two irritated customers later, I finally clocked out and changed into what I hoped was a presentable, responsible, adult-looking outfit. One that said,I’m a trustworthy individual who you’d love to loan money to.
I headed to the bank a few blocks away, making it to my appointment ten minutes early. Lucky for me, the loan advisor was ready for me, politely shaking my hand across her desk as we both took our designated seats.
“Miss Reed, we’ve extensively reviewed your application for a loan. I’ve spoken to three of my superiors, and unfortunately, we can’t approve you at this time.” She dipped her head slightly, a heavy dose of pity in her eyes as she looked at me.
I probably would’ve curled inward with shame at that look, the one I’d seen all too often when people found out how broke I was, if I hadn’t been so busy trying my best not to break down in tears.
This was the third time I’d been turned down.
“I have a steady job,” I blurted desperately. “I work over sixty hours a week. My credit score wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“Oh no,” she said, shaking her head as she flipped through the papers on her desk. “It wasn’t your credit score. You just don’t have the equity or assets that we would need in order to ensure that the loan would be repaid.”
I tilted my head. “So, I need to prove that I have enough money to not need this loan to be approved for it? What kind of sense does that make?” I tried to keep the sharpness out of my tone but was unsuccessful.
After being turned down for the third time, I was at the end of my rope. Cost of living was insane, and I lived in Brooklyn. It’s not like I lived in the city or in a high-rise. I lived in a very cheap ground-level studio apartment. I ate packaged ramen and boxed mac and cheese most of the time. Things like good bread, milk, and eggs were luxuries to me.
Thankfully, every shift I worked, I earned a free meal—a salad or a chicken wrap or one of the protein snack boxes. Thank the universe I’d been able to get Brecken on the cafeteria plan. I’d never seen the girl so excited in my entire life, even more than when she got accepted into NYU. When she found out she had unrestricted access to the cafeteria twenty-four seven, you would’ve thought I handed her the keys to a brand-new Mercedes.
My heart sank at the reasoning behind the excitement—a childhood filled with the stress of not knowing when her next meal would be or where it would come from. Once again, the hatred toward my parents swelled to the point of pain. I shovedit down, focusing on the positives—Brecken was attending NYU, the college she’d busted her ass off in school to get into, and she had finally stopped insisting she skip a year and get a job like me. I refused to let her see the struggle because of that fact. The last thing I wanted her doing was putting off her dreams because of money. I could handle this.
“There has to be something you can do,” I said, but the loan advisor just looked at me like I was making the situation awkward.
If I didn’t figure out a way to get this loan, there was no way I could afford a second semester for Brecken. They wouldn’t approve us for financial aid, and she’d exhausted every grant application she could.
We were at an impasse.
I leaned my elbows on the desk, raking my fingers through my hair as I barely held back the tears enough to look the woman in the eyes. Maybe if I was open and honest with her, she’d do something with all that pity she was throwing my way. I normally kept my little sob story to myself, but I was out of ideas.
“Look,” I said. “I’ll get a second job if I have to. Hell, I’ll come work foryou. I’ll clean your house, run your errands, or answer phones here.Please. I need this loan to make sure that my little sister gets the education that she’s worked her entire life for. I don’t want this money to buy a yacht or put a down payment on a house I don’t need. I want it so my sister can go to college. Can you understand that?”
The loan advisor furrowed her brow, pursing her lips enough that I thought she might be entertaining pulling some strings for me to get this loan.
But then she shook her head, and my heart completely broke.
“If there was something I could do, I would. But I can’t,” she said. “Youhaveto qualify. You have to check the boxes, whichyou don’t. Also, we’re not hiring now, but you can keep checking in?—”
I scooted away from her desk, the sound of the chair scraping against the linoleum cutting off her attempts at empty empathy. A couple tears rolled down my cheeks that I quickly swiped away, and I sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly.
“Thank you for your time.” I hurried out of her office, out of the building, and I kept walking, lost in the emotions strangling me.
I didn’t check the boxes.
No shit.
I hadn’t checked the boxes in high school, the teachers and advisors always disappointed in my tardiness or my inability to stay awake in class, never once asking me why I was so tired or why I always showed up late.
I hadn’t checked the boxes when I was thinking about going to community college because of my terrible grades in high school, and I certainly didn’t check the boxes at any of the higher paying jobs I’d applied to because of the same reasons.
It was one stupid, debilitating cycle that I was sick of being a part of.
I was smart where it mattered—sure, I couldn’t do quantum physics, but I could follow directions to a T and socialize like the best of them, even when my battery was drained. I was a hard worker, and I rarely complained, even when I had a constant stream of customers ready to call me an idiot for getting their seven-dollar coffee wrong. I never called in sick, and I always picked up extra shifts. I deserved that loan as much as Brecken deserved to get the education she’s always wanted.
I blew out of breath, pausing when I came to a bench and sat down, watching the hustle and bustle along the city sidewalks as people went to and from events, work, school, lunch dates, and who knew what else. There were people scamming other peoplefor money every day, there were people selling products that broke seconds after opening the package, and there were people who stole and lied and cheated to get the money they needed, and here I was trying to do it the ethical way, and I couldn’t get approved because I didn’t check a couple fucking boxes?
I shook my head, anger overtaking the despair that was swirling inside me. I hated when my mind lashed outward, blaming the world for my problems rather than accepting thatI’dfailed somewhere along the way. I should’ve tried harder in school, should’ve ignored the exhaustion and pushed through, should’ve…should’ve…
