I'm miserable.
Since it's now October, school work has taken off full force and the fact that we all have other commitments makes it more hectic. I've got the article, Sam's working on a side research about the revolving door syndrome of Schizophrenics, Shade's stressing over being black Juliet in a play and Elle-well, Elle got fired from work because she slapped a customer for pinching her ass. I know right?What a perv.
But I'm even more miserable after my 2 hour history of journalism class as I take a sip of the caramel latte I bought from The Galley, an indoor cafe in the student building that's too expensive for the quantity of what they sell. My eyes don't leave the screen of my laptop as I glance over the last line of my article-well what's left of it. I have tried to salvage as much as I can from my original draft but it seems like my ideas for the structure of the article will not work out. Melissa is hellbent on including the accident even though Charlie told her he doesn't want to. She said it's not called journey back to the court for no reason. I'm pretty sure it's unethical and he wouldn't be too happy about it.
Remembering how defensive Charlie got during the interview makes me feel terrible. Although I'm not happy writing this sh*t, I understand it's because I've been left with no choice-I'm a rookie with no power.
My phone vibrates on the table but I ignore it as my mother's name also pops up on my laptop screen. I can't stop the giddy feeling that erupts in me at the sight of the FaceTime call. "Oh my God." I whisper to myself and click on the green button. I smile widely and sit up on my chair excitedly as my parents faces appear on the screen. I'm extremely happy to be seeing their faces after they put off face-timing me for so long because they don't "know how to use it."
My father graduated from Harvard law university and my mother is a part-time interior decorator yet they still don't understand modern technology. I know it's more because they're enjoying their trip and don't want to feel guilty seeing my face. But now that their trip is coming to an end in a couple of days, I guess they finally decided to work their way around it.
"Can she see us?" Eric Perabo moves closer to the camera in confusion, his head getting into the shot and blocking out my mum's face. He looks very different. He has replaced the suits and office shirts with a floral shirt and khaki shorts. The bags under his eyes from working long nights at his New York office are long gone, replaced with a look of pure happiness. His bright blue eyes are somewhat clearer-more relaxed. Right now, the only thing giving his age away is the greying hairs now accompanying the roots of his dark brown hair "Honey can you see us?"
"Stop getting all up in the camera babe, dios mio." My mum pulls my father back before smiling into the camera with her infamous red clad lips. Maria Perabo born from Colombian descent is the epitome of beauty. Her long brown hair flows all the way down to her waist framing her diamond shaped face. Her brown eyes look a lot more like hazel in the sunlight. She's wearing a black bathing suit with a cream net dress on top of it. The golden loop earrings dangling from her ears complement her glistening tanned skin. They both look really good. I'm a tad bit jealous. "¿Lorena puedes vernos? Podemos verte cariño."
"Si mama. Puedes vernos claramenté." I wince slightly knowing there's everything wrong with that sentence. You'd think growing up with a mother whose first language is Spanish would mean that I'd be fluent in it. Although, I understand (when it's spoken clearly and isn't all complex and jumbled up) the most I can do verbally is drop words into my English sentences. I can manage basic sentences too but they're not that great.
Yeah, It's not something I'm proud of.
"iOh dulce Jesús!" She exclaims loudly "her Spanish gets worse and worse everytime. We should should have sent her to pay her abuelas a visit last year."
"Really? The sentence sounded perfect to me." My dad replies cluelessly. He's pretty useless at Spanish too. After years of trying he just gave up. According to him not everyone is born to be bilingual. As long as he understands his wife, nothing else matters.
"Like father like daughter." She mutters before turning to face me like she finally realised I'm right there. Her eyes light up immediately and I feel my heart warm. I've really missed them. I didn't realise just how much until now. I wave at the camera excitedly, holding back the tears that are starting to prick my eyes. "Mi corazón!"
"Hi sweetheart ." My dad waves back, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he smiles widely. "Good to see you."
"How's Africa?" I ask the first question I've been dying to ask them. It's crazy how the last time I spoke to my parents was almost two months ago when I left New York. I mean they text me to check up on me but we haven't spoken on the phone. Judging from the empty bottle of wine I can see in the background they've been living their best.
"I'll tell you one thing, there's more to Africa than the crap they feed us on TV back at home." My dad says "all that jungle stuff is bullshit."
"Yes honey. It's beautiful here, just beautiful. The weather, the people, the cultures and history." Mum gushes.
"Don't forget the food."
"The food here is great. I got to try so many different cuisines because unlike your father I can actually handle spices."
Dad frowns obviously finding the slight jab offensive. "I can handle spices."
"AquÃ, vamos de nuevo." Mum rolls her eyes, readjusting the designer glasses on her head.
"No Dad," I agree with my mum because it's the truth. Dad can't handle spice at all. The man sweats when eating my mum's infamous posta negra cartagenra. We all know he sneaks milk into his study after to reduce the burn on his tongue even though he heavily denies the accusations. He gives me a you too? look and I nod "You can't."
Honesty is the best policy.
"As I was saying," mum hijacks the conversation again "we have been to 6 countries so far and it has been amazing. Apart from the time your father forgot to put on sun screen and walked around looking like Colombia's tricolour nacional for a week."
We all laugh knowing quite well my mother's exaggerating. "I'm glad you guys are enjoying your trip."
"Okay enough about us. How about you mi amor. How's college?"
"Yeah how's that new internship going?"
Both of their questions bring me back to my reality. I'm not in Africa with them trying out new food and learning about the amazing African culture. I'm here in my student building writing an article about a guy I don't like for an editor I'm starting to not like on a topic that's sensitive as hell and would definitely make me a douche to keep an internship that's already making me fall behind on school work. To top it all off, I bought an expensive ass drink to make myself feel better but all I feel like right now is miserable. Just miserable.
"That's not a good look. ¿Estás bien o qué?" Mum asks worriedly.
"It's nothing serious." I say so they don't worry too much but I know they won't let it go unless I give them the full story so I explain to them everything that's going on-well not everything. I left out the whole Charlie part. I don't think that's relevant.
"You're sad you're writing about sports?"Dad asks as soon as I finish. Of course it's the only thing that stuck out to him. "Honey that's good news. Whatchu writing about?"
"Basketball."
"Even better!" He exclaims raising his hands up to convert his excitement "Basketball is the game of the century honey. It's what's hot right now. Any players that I might know about?"
"God, babe stop.We're not getting into sports right now." Dad mutters a quick apology for getting distracted "Honey, if writing this article is not making you happy then I see no reason why you're stressing so much over it."
"I can't just stop writing it. I-" I sigh "I can't quit."
"Pues mira.....you just have to learn to stand up for what you think is right and everything else will fall into place."
"I know," My throat bobs as I push back the emotions that are starting to surface. My mum knows I find it hard to stand up for myself. I know I let people push me around and never fight back but it's just so hard to do it. "It's so hard and stressful. I am so ready to be home for thanksgiving even though it's just for four days."
The smile on both of their faces gradually fades and I immediately sense something off. My mum looks at my dad but he pays no much attention to the camera-avoiding contact is something he does when I do something bad and mum send him to play bad cop-that she ends up bumping his shoulder. "Eric-" she whispers. I don't think they understand that apple products are designed to pick up the tiniest of sounds.
"What?" He whispers back.
"We agreed you'd be the one to tell her."
"No. I agreed I'd tell her because when I said I wouldn't do it, you pulled out the old 'I know where you sleep' threat. Of course I said I'll tell her."
"Bien pueda-"
"Mum, dad, I can hear you." I announce cutting off their bickering "tell me what?" They both turn to the screen but don't say a thing "¿seriously mama, deje de mamar gallo?" I'm really banking on my Spanish to be right because I know that'd get me the answer quicker.
"The thing is honey, we had to extend our trip for a little bit longer." She admits.
"How much longer?" I ask not understanding why they're making a fuss over extending their trip.
"Eh well we decided to join the others on the trip and tour the rest of west Africa before coming back home." Dad explains.
"So," I swallow "how long is that going to take?" When they both conveniently don't know how to speak, I piece it together. My heart literally sinks "are you guys going to be home for thanksgiving?"
"Pues sà pues no?" Mum bites her lips anxiously "No, we're not home for thanksgiving."
I sit there, dumbfounded not knowing how exactly to take the news. Should I be happy for them for finally getting to live their lives now that they don't have to babysit me or should I be gutted that I'm about to have my first thanksgiving away from my parents.
"Lorraine?" Mum calls and I realise that I've spaced out.
"I-" I'm still in shock "I can't get over the fact that I'm spending thanksgiving alone."
"We know honey. Your mother and I are terribly sorry about this-we know it's not ideal and we wished we could be there with you-"
They're both staring into the camera guiltily and it makes me feel bad. They deserve this. God, what is my problem? Why am I trying to make my parents miserable just because I am?
"No, no dad. It's fine." I cut him off before he apologises to the point where they cancel their trip and come home. "You guys deserve this. You've had to take care of me for 18 years and work at the same time. It's only fair you get to enjoy yourself now."
"¿A lo bien?"
"I'm serious mum."
"Oh honey. Thanks for understanding." Dad's face breaks into a giant grin.
"Will you be home for Christmas at least?"I can feel my heart clench in my chest at the possible answers to the question. Thanksgiving I can handle but Christmas-I'd really flip out.
"Of course we'll be home. We get back to New York two days after thanksgiving."
I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding. Thank God.
After speaking a bit more about my article, the street food dad enjoyed in Ghana and my mum complaining about how I'm getting skinnier, we finally say our goodbyes since I have to get back to work. I shut my laptop, a sigh escaping me as I get up and pack my things. The news I've just received has taken away every ounce of motivation that I have left and my day has gone from bad to worse. It seems dramatic to be feeling like this but my parents and I are pretty close.
I didn't have a lot of friends growing up. I was bullied throughout high school because of my social anxiety disorder and my parents were literally all I had. I did almost everything with them. And as stupid as it sounds, I didn't expect things to change as soon as I left for college. But now they take trips without letting me know and cancel thanksgiving.
It's like they were waiting for me to leave to get back to their lives before me and that just sucks. It sounds like I'm being selfish since they put their lives on hold to raise me whilst working to provide me with everything that I could possibly need but I can't help how I feel.
When I'm done packing my things into my back, I head out of the student building into the breezy LA air.
***
"Hey," I sulkily greet Elle who's sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa. Her left left leg is pulled up to her chin as she struggles to file them ready for the array of nail polish that are sitting on the brown coffee table. Gossip girl is playing on the tv and I find it disrespectful that she's paying zero attention to it. When I recommended she watched it, I didn't mean she should sit in front of the tv and paint her toes while it played as background noise. "You're not even watching it." I complain.
"Hey hoe. I am watching it. It's the part where Dan tries to impress Serena with the date." She replies not looking away from her toes making me roll my eyes as I shut the door behind me "You're back early from your study sesh." She adds as I kick off my shoes and plod into the house with my feet making a soft thumping sound on the hardwood floor.
"Yeah." I dump myself on our sofa. I notice
Shade behind the hob in our kitchen. She's got her laptop in front of her-no doubt watching GOT as she has been binging it for the past week. I don't understand how I managed to live with girls who had no idea who Nate Archibald and the Stark boys are until I told them.
"What's up with you? You sound depressed." Shade notices immediately. She peeks her head to look at me from behind her laptop. "If it makes you feel better I'm making jollof rice and barbecue chicken for dinner."
I give her a genuine smile. She know how much I love it when she makes that. That's hands down one of the most flavoured dishes I've tasted in my life.
"Did someone say something to you?" Elle whips around to face me, eyes narrowing into slits.
"No." I frown "why would someone say anything to me?"
"Nothing." She says quickly as she adjusts the tiny strap of her camisole before turning back to her nails. I eye her weirdly for a second but ignore it.
"So what's wrong?" Shade asks as she bustles around the kitchen.
"It seems like the world's against me today." I grumble and sit upright so that I can unpack the content of my bag as I explain to them "First I got the first draft of my article back from Melissa totally ripped apart and I basically had to write the whole thing again and add things that the person it's about doesn't want added in the first place. Then I got a call from my parents just for them to tell me they're not going to be here for Thanksgiving. To top it all off, I got a cup of coffee from The Galley like an idiot!" By the end of my rant, I'm breathing hard. I close my eyes to calm myself down.
"Lor-" shade sighs "A lot of people stay on campus during thanksgiving. It's not that big of a deal."
"Not you guys." I disagree.
"If I had a choice I'd stay here. The trip is simply too expensive for the length of my stay." She retorts.
"I go because my parents think they can convince me to go to law school by asking in front of my extended family and I love to see their faces when they realise they can't. Plus, I only have to take the train." Elle turns to dangle two nail polishes in my face "baby pink or white?"
"White." I reply instantly. You can't go wrong with white.
"Why do you go home anyways? Your family sucks." Shade asks Elle. We all know she doesn't get along with her parents or family in general. Her mother came for a visit during our freshman year once and I must say I understand why.
"They pay for this house and my tuition. I'm stuck with them until I turn 21 and can get my trust fund." She replies simply not letting the strokes of paint on her toes falter.
"That's sad." I mumble.
"Well not everyone's as lucky as you in that department Lorraine."
"My parents are pretty chill....I think." Shade announces although her face disagrees.
"Is that why you lead a double life? Pre-med student by day bisexual artist by night." Elle asks and we all laugh.
The front door opens revealing Samantha in a short floral romper and flip flops. She pops out two bottles of echo falls from behind her, her mouth stretching out in a mischievous smile. "I come bearing presents!" She wiggles her eyebrows.
"Yes! Open that bitch up." Elle cheers.
"Are we getting drunk guys?" I ask feeling slightly giddy. I'm not one to get excited at the sight of alcohol but today has been pretty shitty and I need something to make me forget. Even if it's for a couple of hours. Plus, getting drunk in the comfort of my home is way better than in some stranger's house.
"Yes we are." In the middle of opening the wine and getting the wine glasses, Samantha tells us about her encounter with Dante at Anals. He invited her to Sawyer's beach house for the Halloween weekend which also happens to be his birthday-as long as Elle's her plus 1.
"Aarti mentioned that to me too." Shade adds as Samantha pours her a glass of wine "I wasn't going to go because that Bronte chick'll be there but now that you guys are invited too I guess we could."
"Am I the only one who didn't get invited to this 'beach house party'" I ask getting everyone's attention. They all realise that I am in fact not invited by anyone and give me that pity look that I hate. It's not their fault. I'm the one who's lacking in the friendship department. I mean I love them but I could use other friends that'll invite me to parties I'll totally not attend. "It's cool. I don't even know him-I mean I spoke to him once but that doesn't mean anything."
"Didn't Charlie invite you or something?" Elle asks absentmindedly.
"Why would Charlie invite me?" I frown.
"I just thought-are you guys not-?"
"Not what?"
"You know what nevermind. If we're all going then you can come. I don't think Dante'll mind."
"No I'm good." I say grabbing the glass of wine from Samantha and saying thank you. I down the content in seconds. She pours me another glass immediately. I decide to take this one slowly.
"You're sad. You need an excuse to not be sad." Sammie says as she joins me on the sofa.
"Besides the party isn't until the end of the month. There's loads of time to decide if you want to go or not or for someone to invite you."
I nod even though I sincerely doubt that.