having an intense discussion. I was about twenty feet away, and it was too crazy to hear what they were saying.
Mom was forty-three years old, with dark hair that was like mine. She looked good for her age, and people always acted shocked when she told them she had a daughter going into college. You can’t really be that old, they always told her, to which she usually laughed and shrugged it off. I hoped when I was her age people would tell me that. She seemed to like hearing it, even though she’d never admit it out loud.
My dad had dark hair too, although his was starting to grey. His eyes were a warm honey brown, much like mine. He worked as a fork lifter, while my mom worked as a secretary in a dental office. Neither job paid particularly well, but it was enough to pay the bills.
Me going to SCC, rooming here, must’ve been stressful for them. This wasn’t the first time I’d seen them having an intense talk. Although, they should be happy I was taking out loans to be here. They didn’t have to pay a single penny. They didn’t have many pennies to spare, honestly.
I skipped to them, grabbing the side of the rolling bin that was closest to me. “Don’t worry guys, I got it. You two can just stand here and look pretty.” I started rolling the bin after me, pulling it down the hall.
Mom and Dad stopped whatever they were talking about, glancing at each other, before choosing to follow me.
Once we were in the room and Dad was helping to unload the bin, Mom spoke, “Now, I’m not going to be one of those parents who tells you to text me every day, but I would like at least one a week, letting me know you’re alive.”
“And doing well in your classes,” Dad chimed in.
I rolled my eyes. “I will,” I muttered, though I didn’t want to. My parents were kind of killjoys. I didn’t know where I got my free-spirited side from, but I knew it had to be one of my grandparents or something, because Mom and Dad were not the kind of people who went out and purposefully sought life’s craziness. They were always in bed by nine. Boring adults.
That…that would be me in ten years, probably, but hey, I was still young. Still living it up. I still had time to go wild, and even though Ash wasn’t here to keep an eye on me, I planned on doing just that here at SCC.
“You’re paying a lot to be here,” my dad felt so kind to remind me, “so it’s important you do well in your classes.”
Blah, blah, blah. Typical parent jabber. I really didn’t want to hear it, or have them harsh my groove. Yes, I’d have to try—obviously—but I was also here to have fun. The last few years of fun in my life before dreary adulthood and responsibilities took me by the neck and jujitsued me into submission.
Was jujitsued even a word? Whatever. You knew what I meant.
It literally took them over an hour to leave, even after all of my stuff was unpacked and in its new, rightful spot on my half of the room. Neither one of my parents wanted to leave, but leave they had to. This was my time, my college experience. Mom and Dad couldn’t hold my hand forever. Hell, they hadn’t held my hand for years now.
Of course, they also didn’t know how wild of a child I really was, but that was just Mom and Dad being oblivious.
I walked them to their car, which they’d been forced to park half a mile away at some huge parking lot. Couldn’t keep it in the turnaround because there were too many other kids moving in.
Though Dad wasn’t usually a hugger, he wrapped me in his arms and whispered, “Be good, Kelsey. Make smart decisions.” He released me, tossing me a soft smile before getting into the car and starting it up.
Mom, on the other hand, lingered longer after her hug—and her hug practically lasted five minutes, her arms so strongly wrapped around me she damn well nearly suffocated me. Her shoulders shook, and I knew, without needing to look in her eyes, she was crying.
Crying. My mom was crying saying goodbye to me, as if I wasn’t just thirty minutes from home. Come on. It wasn’t like I went hours away like Ash. I could go home and