by A. T Brennan
“I’m just stressed out.”
“School, or your non-boyfriend?”
“Ugh, if everyone could stop calling him that, that would be awesome.”
“Not happening until you admit what’s really going on. Now which is it?”
“Both.”
“Why don’t we start with school? I don’t have much experience with either but I’ll try to help.”
“These journalism classes are killing me. I have an article due tomorrow and I can’t seem to finish it.”
“What’s it on?”
“We’re supposed to pick a court ruling, one that set the precedent of a law and discuss it from both angles by comparing it to past and near present cases.”
“Yeah, I can’t help you with that.”
“I know.” I sighed. “I just can’t seem to get what I want to say on the paper.”
“And this is for one of your classes?”
“Yeah. I have another project due in two weeks for another one, then two days after that for the other, plus midterms and then another huge project for each and then finals.”
“Wow. Do you think you can handle it?”
“I don’t have a choice. These are mandatory classes and if I can’t pull them off then what hope in hell do I have to get into law school?”
“When did you decide you wanted to be a lawyer? Was it before or after Mom and Dad tore you a new one for dashing their dreams of having a doctor in the family?” he asked bluntly.
“What?”
“You’ve never been interested in law, I’ve never once heard you talk about wanting to do it, just that you have to. You obviously hate journalism, but you’re killing yourself to keep in the program because it’s what Mom and Dad decided was best for you to take. Why are you still doing everything they tell you?”
“You know why.” I bit my lip and tried to keep my voice steady, tried and failed.
“I’ve watched them do this to you your entire life. When you were in high school it wasn’t so bad because you loved to learn and you wanted to take AP classes and do extra credit. Now you’re in college and you’re still blindly doing what they say even though I can hear that you hate it.”
“I don’t have a choice.”
“Yes, you do,” he insisted. “Mom and Dad had a dream when they had us. We were going to be something they could brag about to show all their professional friends how their kids were better than everyone else’s kids. Then they found out I was sick so everything dropped onto you. It’s not fair and you can’t keep killing yourself trying to make up for me being defective.”
“Alex—”
“Neither one of us is ever going to be good enough. Say you do finish your degree and you kick ass on the LSAT and get into law school, then what? You’ll bust your ass for years just to do what they want you to do. You know it’ll never be enough. You won’t make partner soon enough, you’ll go into the wrong branch or you won’t get into a good enough firm. You’re going to spend your life trying to reach their impossible standards and you’re never going to be happy.”
I just sat there as he talked. Alex and I were close and we didn’t hold back, but he’d never said any of this to me before, not all at once and so bluntly.
“I’m sorry all this shit got put on you, but I’d rather see you happy and not waste your life trying to make them happy when we both know that’ll never happen.”
“I just hate disappointing them.”
“Can I be brutally honest with you?”
“You haven’t been?”
“Not completely.”
“Then please, be brutal.”
“No matter what either of us does they’ll always be disappointed in us. We’re not the kids they wanted, we’re the ones they got stuck with. I don’t think they’ve ever been proud of either of us. We’ve always fallen short somehow.”
“You’re not wrong.” I sighed and moved over to my bed. I didn’t want to even look at my article anymore.
“Look, I’m not trying to shatter you, and I know you don’t quit once you’ve started something, but think about it. You have to live your life for you.”
“I know. Have you thought about my offer?”
“Are you sure it’s even feasible?”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think it was.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“I’d never think of you as a burden,” I argued. “I want you to come live with me this summer.”
“I’ve never really considered leaving.”
“I know, but I think you need to. Just a few months away to experience something different. We’ll get to hang out, spend time together, just the two of us like we used to.”
“You’re making it really hard to say no.”
“Then don’t say no. Say you’ll move here in the summer and we’ll both start our own lives.”
“So you’re going to tell Mom and Dad you don’t want to be a lawyer?”
“Yeah. I’ll deal with the fallout. You’re right. I’m killing myself trying to be what they want and they’ll never be happy. I have one life, I should be living it for me.”
“That’s my girl.”
“And you need to start doing the same.
“I will. But maybe we can keep my plans a secret until closer to the summer. I still have to live with them.”
“Deal.”
“And now, tell me about your non-boyfriend.”
I rolled my eyes, aware he couldn’t see me. “He’s fine.”
“You still hopelessly in love with him but too scared to say it?”
“Yup.”
“Ever think you’ll get past it?”
“Not likely.”
“What about trusting him? Have you told him?”
“Not yet.”
“Paige. I know you think telling him will drive him away, but maybe that’s a good thing.”
“What?”
“If he can’t accept your past, all of it, then he doesn’t deserve you. If that makes him walk away from you then I say good riddance because he obviously wasn’t worth your time.”
“Damn, Alex. That’s a lot of crap to dump on me.”
“Am I wrong about any of it?”
“None of it.”
“So, then it’s good you have me.” He laughed and I had to laugh with him.
“Very true. Listen, I have to go. I need to finish this damn thing so I can go to bed.”
“Okay, call me in a few days.”
“Will do. And thanks, Alex.”
“Of course. I love you Paige, you’re more than just my baby sister. Most days you’re my only friend.”
“I love you too, and you’re my best friend.”
“I have to go before you make me bawl like a bitch. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I ended the call and sighed as I stared at my phone. I would call my parents in a few days and tell them about my decision. I had to do it soon otherwise I would chicken out, but right now I needed to finish this stupid article so I didn’t lose my scholarship.
* * * * *
I sat on my bed nervously staring at my phone.
I’d put off calling my parents for almost a week. I’d tried to ignore Alex’s voice in my head and focus on what I could control. I finished my article and handed it in. I’d worked until almost three in the morning the night before it was due and I was really happy with what I’d managed to do, so that was one worry off my plate. I’d started the next big project and was feeling pretty good about being able to finish this semester.
Things with Jay were great. We were still in that weird place where we refused to put a title on things, and while it felt like they were getting more and more serious, I was afraid to say anything in case it drove him away.
Jules and I were starting to hang out with Avery and Mel more, and I’d gotten over my initial reaction to Mel. She was brash and brazen and full of piss and vinegar, but that was just her perso
nality. I had to learn to stop taking things so personally and just accept who she was. Once I realized that she was actually a really great person I could see being close friends with both her and Avery.
The four of us were making plans to hang out over spring break and doing a girls weekend since we were all broke and would most likely have work to do. The guys were eager to fill in the rest of our time off with silly activities.
For the first time in my life I had a group of friends and I was happy.
I knew what I wanted to do with my life and I felt good as I planned and prepared to make it happen, but I was dreading telling my parents about it.
After counting to ten I tapped on their contact info and waited as the phone began ringing.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Mom.”
“Paige?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” I rolled my eyes. How many other girls called her ‘mom’?
“You’re father and I are on our way out, can you call back on Sunday?”
“I really need to talk to you now.” I had to get this over with. I couldn’t spend any more time agonizing over this phone call.
“You have five minutes.” Her voice was a little clipped and I could tell she wasn’t happy with me.
“Can you get Dad on the line too? You both should hear this.”
I heard her pull the phone away and call for my dad. Ten seconds later his voice came over the line.
“Paige?”
“Hi, Dad.”
“What have you done now?” he asked in an exasperated voice.
“What?”
“You’re calling us on a Thursday night. You either need money or us to bail you out of something.”
“I don’t need anything. I just want to talk to you.”
“And this couldn’t wait until your scheduled call on Sunday?”
“No. I have to tell you now.”
“Well, what is it?” Mom cut in, her voice a little distant.
“I’m not going to law school and I’m switching programs next year,” I said in a rush and then held my breath.
The silence on the other end of the phone was deafening.
“What?” My dad’s voice finally cut through the silence, and by the tone I almost wished he’d just hung up and ended things there. He sounded as though he was somewhere between rage and incredulous.
“I don’t want to be a lawyer. I was only going along with things because I know it’s what you wanted for me, but it’s not what I want.”
“After all the work we put into this, all the sacrifices—”
“I’m sorry. I know this has meant a lot to you, but I’ve never wanted to go to law school. It’s not what I’m interested in.” I cut my mom off, trying to get the point across to them that I was doing this for me, not in spite of them.
“And what will you be taking now that you’ve decided to change every plan that was ever made for you?” Dad asked, his voice icy.
“Social work. I want to help people, especially ones who are in the same position I was in when I—”
“We’ve told you not to talk about that in front of us,” Mom snapped. “That was a part of our lives we’d like to erase and you need to forget about it.”
“I can’t, ever. I’ll never be able to forget about it and I want to be able to help someone who has to deal with it, to give them support and hope—”
“We don’t have time for this.” Dad’s voice had gone from icy to dripping with anger. “You’re not doing anything. You’ll finish your degree and go to law school like we planned.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Yes, you will.”
“Dad—”
“If you even think of doing any of this foolishness then you’re cut off. We’re not going to pay a cent more for school and you’re not welcome home.”
“You’re going to disown me for changing my major?”
“For destroying this family, again.”
“Dad—”
“Paige, we’ve done everything we can to prepare you and give you everything you need to succeed. You’re throwing all that away on a whim and we’re not going to encourage it. You didn’t want to go to Brown like your mother and I and now you don’t want to follow the plan? Fine. We’re done. You can stay there until you graduate, load yourself down with loans and struggle if you go through with this. You can come home for special occasions and short holidays to see your brother, but when you fail, and you will, you’re not welcome back here. We’re done supporting you and your mistakes.”
“Daddy, please—”
“Goodbye, Paige. We have to go.”
The phone went dead in my ear and I bit back a sob.
I’d known they were going to freak out, but I’d never thought they’d completely cut me off. I also never expected them to automatically think I’d fail if I tried to do something on my own. Their complete lack of support and faith in me was devastating, and I hated how I wasn’t even that surprised.
At least I had a plan. I would put that phone call behind me and do everything I could to prove them wrong. I might have fucked up in the past, but I was finally taking control of my life and doing what was best for me. It was time to live my life.
* * * * *
The grades for our articles were posted at nine the next morning, just in time for class. I’d spent most of the night tossing and turning as I tried to figure everything out, so I’d been late getting up and had to rush to school without checking my grade. As long as I kept it above a B then I’d be fine, and I was pretty confident I’d done well enough to get at least a B+.
As soon as I was settled at my desk I booted up my computer and logged into the school WIFI and then into my student account. It took a moment to navigate to the class page and I pulled up the grades list.
As I scanned down, looking for my student number, I started to feel uneasy. There were a lot of really high grades, but also a lot of low ones.
I found my number about one quarter of the way down the page and my heart sank when I saw my grade.
D-.
I’d never gotten anything below a B in my entire life, and that D- was now twenty percent of my final grade.
My head was spinning as I did the math, trying to figure out what I’d need to get on the rest of the assignments just to keep my average at a B+ to keep my scholarship, and this was only the first major assignment. I still had midterms, another article and then finals.
I was fucked. Unless I could pull off some stellar grades in my other classes I was going to lose my standing on the Dean’s list and my scholarship. That one grade was going to fuck up every plan I had and I didn’t know what to do.
I spent the entire class staring at my computer, trying not to cry and not hearing a word my professor said.
When the class was over there was only one thing I could think to do. I had to go talk to my professor and find out why I’d gotten such a low grade. There had to be a reason. I didn’t get D’s, I was better than that. Smarter than that.
There was only a forty-five minute window where Dr. MacAlistair had office hours and I needed to talk to him, not his TA. I had to get there before anyone else did and try to convince him my grade was a mistake.
As soon as we were dismissed I threw everything I had in my bag and jumped up. I knew I must have looked crazy, dodging and running around people as I raced to the exit and then ran right across campus to get to his office before he did, but I didn’t care. I had to get this sorted out.
I made it to his office in record time and stood by the door, trying to catch my breath as I waited. Office hours didn’t start until twenty minutes after the end of class, but I was the only one there so he’d have to see me as soon as he got there.
“Dr. MacAlistair?” I saw him coming down the hall and stood up straight.
“I don’t have time for office hours today, you’ll have to come back when Joshua is here—”
“I’m sorry, sir. This will only take a minute. I need to t
alk to you now.”
He sighed warily and nodded. I waited as he unlocked his door and followed him in, closing the door behind me as I did.
“How can I help you?” he asked as he sat behind his oversized and messy desk.
“I need to talk to you about my grade, on the precedent argument essay.”
“I figured a few of you would. Name?” he turned to his computer.
“Paige Davis.”
He scanned a few screens before nodding in my general direction.
“You got a D-.”
“Yes.”
“And you think that’s a problem?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t get D’s, ever. I need to know what I did wrong, how I can fix this—”
Dr. MacAlistair put up his hand and I stopped talking as he clicked a few keys on his computer and looked at his screen.
“I made extensive notes on your article.” He looked up at me. “It wasn’t terrible.”
“It wasn’t terrible? That’s it?” What the hell did that mean?
“Your sources were there, the basic structure was acceptable and the mechanics were fine, but it was lacking.”
“Lacking what?”
“A voice.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Every journalist has a voice, a spin or a signature they put in their writing. Yours isn’t there. Everything was mechanical and neutral and quite frankly, boring.”
“But you said this was an information article, not an opinion piece—”
“And the information wasn’t presented in an interesting way. It was wordy, convoluted and you were redundant, almost as though you were trying to fill in space to meet the word count.”
I just stared at him, not knowing what to say.
“Ms. Davis, do you want to be a journalist?”
“No, sir.” I sighed. There was no point lying to him.
“Then why did you sign up for my class?”
“Because I thought it would be a good major to get into law school.” I looked at my hands, embarrassed. “But I’ve realized that law is not in my future, and neither is journalism.”
“It’s too late to drop the class without taking a penalty for the semester. What are you going to?”
“Work harder?”
“I’d say that’s a good idea.”
By the way he turned and started rummaging around in his desk I knew the meeting was over. I turned and headed out of his office.
