Page 3 of Trust Me

I love that little house and all the memories Aurora and I have there, but I can’t afford the rent on my own and I refuse to ask my parents for money, despite knowing they have plenty of it.

Growing up, I benefited from it, but once I turned eighteen, my mom insisted that I needed to figure it out on my own and that they wouldn’t be supporting me financially anymore.

It might seem harsh to others, but I respect their values because they’re the ones that have shaped me into the person I am now.

Responsible, smart, and hardworking.

At least those are the values I aspire to display, but deep down I know they don’t fit me very well. Like when old T-shirts you insist on wearing because they’re comfortable when you know damn well they need to go.

Having grown up in a partial Korean slash American family, I learned the value of familial relationships through my elders. Our extended family got together as often as we could, and we supported each other whenever it was needed. No questions asked.

My mother, on the other hand? Not so much. My father took on the role of peacemaker, often siding with my mother to avoid conflict. Or maybe it’s because I never seemed opposed to any of her plans, so he thought nothing was wrong. And I think it’s the familial values from our heritage that are ingrained in my father that saved our relationship, unlike my mother, who has more American-style ideals.

My mother, Madeline, is a renowned cardiac surgeon, and my father, Ned, is the head coach of the men’s hockey team here at Rock Land University. My parents worked very hard to be in the roles they are today, and I’m happy for them.

But what I’m not so happy about is the constant pressure they put on me to be great like them, particularly my mother.

She has my whole life planned out already. Go to college, get a degree in a respectable field, get a good-paying job, then get married and have babies.

If I had it my way, I’d adjust the plan to go to college, get a degree, get a job I love, and be happy. I wouldn’t be opposed to getting married and having kids one day, but if I don’t, it’s not a big deal to me.

I do fine on my own. I always have.

Thankfully, I was allowed to pick my degree, but I can only use it on what has been determined by her. I’m majoring in business, and she has made multiple comments about how I’d make a great accountant or financial analyst.

It’s the complete opposite of what I want to do, but that’s something I’ll worry about later though, because my roommate situation needs fixing first.

It’s been weighing on me all summer as I tried to find a new one. The girls on the volleyball team, my former teammates, all have their dorms or housing and are not up for moving their stuff again, which is understandable.

My other closest friend, Camille, who’s doing a foreign exchange program from France, already has a roommate. And then, there are the random people who replied to my post around campus.

I tried to be hopeful, but I didn’t connect with any of them. With me being a homebody, aside from attending parties occasionally, I need to like the person I’m living with since I spend the majority of my time at home.

I let out a dreadful sigh and exit my car in the hockey facility’s parking lot at RLU. I know what I need to do, but I’m not happy about it. I either ask my father to help me with rent for a little while or sleep on someone’s couch because I refuse to live with my mother any longer.

My phone vibrates in my shorts’ pocket and I pull it out to see Camille’s name on the screen. A smile tugs at my lips as I answer, “Hello?”

Her graceful voice pours through the speaker. “Morning, Jas, what are you up to?”

“About to make a fool of myself. You?”

She giggles lightly. “Wait, what’s going on?”

Pushing the doors open, I make a left and head down the hallway where my father’s office is. “Well, you know I couldn’t find a roommate this year, so I’m going to ask my father to help me with the rent for a little while. It’s the only choice I have left.”

“Aw, Jas, I wish I could help you out. Do you think he’ll go for it?”

I stop outside his office to see that the blinds are closed, which means he’s in a meeting, so I opt to pace the hallway while I wait. “Honestly, no clue. I’m his girl, but I know he wants me to learn the importance of making my own way.”

“He’s not going to let you sleep on the streets,” she points out.

“No, he wouldn’t, but he would suggest that I move back home. I won’t do that. For one, it’s too far,” I whisper, realizing that anyone nearby could be listening.

My eyes snag on a picture on the bulletin board outside of my father’s office.

It’s a picture of my family when my father got hired as the head coach. My father is beaming, his arms wrapped around my mother and me. I inherited my mother’s curly hair while looking more like my father. My father’s Korean, and my mother is Black.

The photo reminds me of how much I truly do love them, despite our differing opinions.

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