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My shoulders slumped, and guilt flooded my thoughts because she was right. Boasting was never something either of my parents encouraged. Even when I was taking AP classes Freshman year of high school, they didn’t want me to brag. I could have gone to college early, but they held me back, telling me that my social development was just as important as my academic achievements. But sometimes, it felt good to be proud. Athletes were always praised for their co-ordination and determination. Why couldn’t I be praised for the work I put into my academics? I pulled on my skirt out of habit, knowing that if my mother could see it, she would squeal in excitement. She’d always wanted to put me in one of these when I was at home, but I’d refused, wanting to find my own style. Unfortunately for me, that led me down a very aggressive, goth stage. I’d dyed my naturally red hair black and wore brown contacts with the thickest platform boots I could find. My mother couldn't stand it, but it was my way of rebelling since I wasn't allowed to go to college early.
Initially, I wanted to go to Charlotte U at sixteen. It was in my hometown, which meant I could live at home and save my parents some money.
When they refused, even after I told them about the baseball player who had done the exact same thing a few years prior, I chose to move across the country. I wanted my freedom to make my own decisions, and if it meant I'd have to be further away from them to get it, then so be it. Now that I was further away, I could learn to be who I wanted to be, and although I'd had a few hiccups along the way, I liked who I was becoming.
“It’s not boasting when it’s the truth.” I smirked, knowing she’d hate that answer, but teasing her with it, anyway. She was easy to annoy, so I was taking advantage of the distance.
“You know, if your father was as haughty in his attitude as you were, I wouldn’t have looked at him twice.” She raised a brow as though that was going to change my opinion.
“That might be a good thing,” I mumbled, knowing she wouldn't be able to hear me. Just because she and my father met in college didn't mean that I was shackled to the same fate. I wasn't looking for a man, especially after Connor. I couldn't even say his name without the words curling out of my mouth in disgust.
“How are you feeling?” I asked to change the subject, but I could already tell the answer before she’d spoken a word. Her eyes were baggy, and it looked like she’d aged ten years in the scope of two months.
“I’m great. How are you feeling?” She replied with a bite similar to mine, and I smiled. Like mother, like daughter.
“I’m fine, but I’m not the one waiting for potentially life-saving surgery.”
There. I put it out there, and for the first time, she looked down at the phone and raised her wispy brows. “Oh, Aster. Don’t be so dramatic. Lifesaving? It’s just a lobectomy.”
I couldn’t believe how casual she was acting over this, only I could because she seemed hell-bent on pretending that she was absolutely fine when it was obvious she wasn’t. It was clearly stressing her out, but she didn’t want to burden me with it.
“Have you heard from the doctors about when it’s taking place?”
She sighed. “Not yet. They’re busy people, Aster. They’ll get around to me when it’s my time.”
Why did it feel like I was talking to a brick wall sometimes?
“Mom,” I said through gritted teeth, knowing that if I got angry, we’d get nowhere in this discussion. “How can you act so casually about it? You’re waiting for surgery to remove cancer from your lungs, and all you can say is ‘they’ll get to me when they get to me?’’’
“Because it’s stage one, and I have faith in the system. They discovered it by accident, which means it can’t be that big a deal. They know my prognosis and they’ll get to me when they can. There’s no point getting upset over something that I can’t control or stop.”
“But you can stop it from spreading. You’re Stage One now, but that doesn’t mean it’s going to stay that way.”
“Exactly. There are a lot of other people who are more advanced that need surgery more urgently.”
“But if you don’t push, you’ll become one of those people.”
I held back my scepticism and the horrible thoughts that ran through my head. I knew they weren’t true, but every now and again, a thought would pass that felt as insidious as the pain inside my heart.What if the doctors were holding back because they wanted to make her sicker, so she’d have to pay for more treatment?
I shook my head and took a breath because that was a stupid thought. That’s not what Doctor’s do. I just didn’t understand why they were holding off on this surgery.
She looked down and sighed, before running a hand through her hair like she was avoiding pulling it out. “Aster, please. Can we talk about something else? I don’t want to fight with you.”
We weren’t fighting, but if I said that, it would probably turn into one. “Fine,” I replied curtly.
“How are your classes going?”
“Great. Professor Murphy has asked me if I could assist him in a few more of his classes for extra credit, which means I'm on course to graduate early.”
“Class assistant? Tutoring? Do you take any classes?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do. I've just finished all the course work early, so I have time to do other things.”
“You know, honey, you don’t need to do that. We’re happy for you to take your time.”
“But why? It saves money in the long term if I finish early.” She didn’t need to say it. I knew the cost of cancer treatment might cripple them, and I wasn’t about to add to the burden of my degrees on top. Not that they were paying for all of it with the scholarships I'd accrued, but it was enough.
“Yeah,” she sighed out. “Your father will hate me saying this, but college isn't always about getting the best grades or seeing who can finish their work the quickest. Sometimes, it's about making friends, and having a little fun on the way.”
