I can't do this. Not today, I have to stop. The pain courses through my body and the doubt starts to sink in. All I can hear is my feet against the pavement, my breathing strained as I gasp for air.
This morning's run is harder than any I've had before and I don't know why.
I turn the corner and finally see my house. I'm almost there. Pushing through the pain I get to my driveway and stop, resting my hands on my knees as I desperately try to catch my breath.
"Good time today?" I glance up and see my neighbor Troy bringing his trash can to the corner. I tense up and my mind goes blank. Every morning we seem to run into each other either when I'm leaving on my run or coming back. He's only a few years older than I am and yet has his own house. He moved in not too long ago. Our neighbors abruptly vacated due to the pandemic, so I'm sure he got a great deal on the house. He's still in what looks like his pajamas and gives me a friendly smile. I glance down at my watch, still ticking away.
Shit, I think and end the workout. "No," I tell him. "Actually...one of my...worst," I say through gasps of air.
He shrugs. "There's always tomorrow." He gives a friendly nod and goes back into his house. I watch him as he goes, wishing I had said more. Anything to make him see me as more than just "the girl who runs in the morning". People like him who have their shit together don't see people like me. I'm nobody. I can't even find a way to get out of my parents' house, let alone get my own. I don't even know what he does for a living. All I know is he's gorgeous and I'm invisible.
I walk into my house and I can hear my dad in the dining room in the midst of a meeting. The pandemic is over and yet somehow he's still working from home. It's like life is torturing me. My mom walks into the hallway, her eyebrows raised.
"Abby, there you are. I've been looking for you," she says with her put-on serious tone.
"Mom, I go for a run every morning. This isn't anything new. You know where I was."
"Yes, well, your dad wants to talk to you when he's done with his meeting. There might be an opening in his office. They need someone to work the front desk." I roll my eyes and before I can say anything, she continues. "Don't start a fight with him, okay? He's only trying to help."
"Spending my day directing UPS and FedEx drivers where to deliver packages is not my idea of work."
"And spending your day playing video games is better?"
My body hurts too much to have this conversation so I brush past her and start heading upstairs. As I pass the dining room, my dad sees me and gestures with his hand to me.
"I'm taking a shower," I call over my shoulder as I keep walking.
I get to my room, close the door, and collapse onto my bed. It's going to be one of
those
days. But then why would I expect anything different? It's always one of
those
days. My parents' number one concern in life is what I'm going to do with mine. Since I have no idea, they're going to impose their ideas on me. I know I need to come up with something soon. The thing is, I know my mom is right. It's not like sitting at home playing video games is much better. It's not like I enjoy it, but what am I going to do? After graduation I started working retail at the Gap. It was awful, but it was all I had. I trudged along day after day, putting on that fake smile and listening to people complain about the price of capris. With everything going on in the world, capris were people's number one problem. It was awful. Once the pandemic started, they laid off everybody in the store with the promise that when things got back to normal, they'd hire us all back. I remember when I got the voicemail.
"Hi Abby, it's Desiree from the store. We're starting to hire people back and well, you know how much we love you. If you're still looking for work, give me a call back and we can figure out your first day. God bless."
I didn't realize how much I was dreading that call until it came. I quickly pressed the trashcan icon before I could think twice about it. A few weeks later my dad brought up the store. He had seen on the news that the mall was opening back up and stores were hiring again. He asked if they were going to take me back. I lied and said I hadn't heard from them.
"Those sons-a-bitches," he said. "I should go over there and remind them you were their best employee!"
"No dad, please don't," I say, rolling my eyes. I came up with an excuse about how I'll need them as a reference if I'm going to get another job. That seemed to work and he gave it up. I can only imagine the look on Desiree's face when my dad walks in yelling about not hiring me back. The truth is I don't want to work retail, but I also don't know what I want to do instead.
What my parents really want is for me to go to college. I'm not opposed to the idea. The problem is I wasn't the best student. Not because I was lazy, not at all. My problem was I was too smart. That's right, I was
too smart
. My teachers would tell us things that were clearly not true. All the other kids would just go along with it, nod their heads like total androids and write it all down. I'm the only one that would challenge them, and they hated it. Boy did they hate it. It's not my fault the education system hasn't caught up to Google.
I remember one day, who even knows what grade this was anymore, our history teacher mentioned something about Columbus discovering America. My hand shot up in the air.
"Yes, Abby." You can hear the annoyance in her voice as she knows what's coming.
"Columbus didn't discover America," I corrected her. "It was the Icelandic explorer Leif Erikson. He reached America
long
before Columbus was even born. And let's not forget none of these people 'discovered' America since there were people here already. Columbus was a rapist who committed genocide-" And you get the rest. Let's just say, I didn't pass the quiz on that chapter. This is how all my classes went. All of them except math. I love math. There's no interpretation, there's no grey area. You're either wrong or you're right. There can be a debate about the best way to come to an answer, but there's no debate about what the answer actually is. (Except for statistics, which is all about interpretation. I hate statistics! But that's for another day.)
Since my grades weren't that good, I have to go to community college to bring them up before I can go to a four year school. I have no problem doing that. It's just...well, I don't know. Going to college means having to make a decision about what I want to do in life. If I knew that...
When I was in high school, I thought I was going to change the world. I decided not to go directly to college after graduation. Why sign up for more indoctrination just like the last four years I had to endure? No thank you. I figured any education I needed I would find from books I chose to read. Not the ones those authoritarians running my high school prescribed. I told my parents I was taking a gap year. They weren't happy about it, but what could they do? I didn't tell them until after most college application deadlines had passed. I escaped college for one year. The next year the pandemic hit and I told my parents there's no need to apply now. It's all online and that's all bullshit anyway. They halfheartedly agreed. However, now the pandemic is over and schools are opening up to in-person teaching again, and worst of all my parents know it. They've been hounding me to start applying. I don't know why but the whole thing scares me. A while back my dad handed me an application to some school he has a connection to. I have to write a personal statement. A long answer to a short question. "Who are you?" That's it. That's all they asked. "Who are you?" I opened up my computer and pulled up a blank Word document. I typed "I am" and stopped. I watched the cursor blink for what felt like an hour. I had no idea what to put after that. "I am" what? "I am Abby." Well duh, that sounds unintelligent. "I am legend and I kill vampires." They probably wouldn't get the joke. "I am lost?" Yes, that'll get me into college. I closed the computer and handed the application back to my dad. I told him after reviewing the school's credentials, it didn't meet my standards. You can imagine how well that went.
My train of thought is broken by the sound of a knock at my door. My dad pokes his head in.
"Abby, I need to talk to you."
"Mom told me about the job, dad. I'm not interested."
I can see him immediately get angry. "Why not?"
"I can't work in your office. The whole time everyone will be saying 'oh look, there's the girl who's dad got her the job. She must be an idiot if she needed her dad to get her a job.' I can't do that."
He takes a few more steps into the room and sits on the end of my bed. I sit up and lean back on the headboard.
"I can understand that," he says unexpectedly. "So tell me. What jobs have you applied for already?" There it is.
I take a deep breath. "None."
He nods. "That's what I thought. And college? Find anything that interests you yet?" He makes no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his voice. All I can do is look down and take a deep breath in resignation. We both sit there not saying anything. Finally he looks up at me.
"Listen. Your mom and I have been talking. We don't know what to do for you-"
"You don't need to do anything dad-" I cut him off. He puts his hand up to stop me.
"It's our fault. We've sheltered you for too long."
"Oh please," I say rolling my eyes.
"We have. If your mom and I were suddenly gone, you'd have no way of taking care of yourself. You need to learn some harsh lessons."
I lift my head at the word "harsh". What does that mean?
