Page 9 of Only With You

“This is my third time taking Calculus II, and even after three weeks, I still don’t get anything.” A massive headache inhabits my head. The pain pounds at my skull, but the crippling anxiety that courses throughout my body makes the pain feel weightless. “That’s why I chose Professor Ellis. She’s rated five stars on Rate My Professor. But despite how good she is, I still have no clue what she’s talking about. Nothing is clicking or making sense. If my test this morning isn’t indication enough of that.”

“It’s only the third week of school. It’s okay if nothing makes sense. Either way, there’s a reason why Ellis is rated a five. I’ve heard she’s really good about accommodating her hours and quick at replying to emails. You’re going to be fine,” she says positively.

I shouldn’t be negative. I should be hopeful and positive, but it’s hard.

I desperately need to pass so I can stay on track to graduate in May next year and not land in academic probation. If I fail Calc again, it’ll drop my grade point average. After failing twice, it really hindered my GPA.

I can’t afford to fall behind, especially after the lecture I got from Dad and the look of disappointment on his face when he found out I didn’t pass.

He’s never failed or made below an A. Even Mom and my sister Natalie, who both didn’t stay in school long because they ventured into the world of modeling, never failed. Then there’s me, the idiot in the family because I don’t get math. I want to understand it so badly, but numbers and letters don’t make sense to me.

“You know I really need to pass to get into medical school.”

I’ve met a lot of people who are taking a gap year, but Dad refuses to let me do that. He said he didn’t take one and anyone who does is lazy. I can’t argue with him, because not only did he always graduate top of his class, but he went to an Ivy League.

“You’ll pass, just have faith in yourself.” She points a ketchup-saturated fry in my direction.

I let out a breathy sigh, wiping my sweaty palms on my olive green cargo miniskirt. “You know what, you’re right. I don’t know why I get in over my head.”

“You know the material, but you’re stressing yourself out. Don’t forget C’s get degrees.” She chides and stuffs the fry into her mouth.

“I’m sure most medical schools won’t feel the way about that motto, and you know how my dad is. He’d have a stroke if I used those words in front of him.”

“Right…” she trails off, lips pinched tight, but it’s only to stop herself from talking. I know her well enough to know she’s still going to say what’s on her mind regardless, because El doesn’t have a filter. “Because he’s a huge control freak, just like your mom. Honestly, it’s really shitty to make you live out their dreams when they’ve already lived out theirs. Rich people, I tell ya, can’t ever be happy. Stuck miserable in their own lives, so they have to make others miserable as well.”

She’s not entirely wrong. Mom and Dad are huge control freaks, but I guess when your dad is a neurosurgeon and your mom is a stylist for celebrities, they have certain expectations.

The only thing she’s wrong about is living through their dreams, at least Mom’s. If it were up to her, I’d be a model like Natalie and not in school. Though she did try, thanks to her connections, but I failed miserably.

I glance out the window of the diner, staring at the almost dead parking lot for a Friday. It’s not late in the day. The sun is out and shining, and the weather is warm for September.

This is what I like about North Carolina, despite the weird, fluctuating weather. I like that I get to experience all of the seasons. In just a few weeks, it’ll be fall. The weather will be cool, and the leaves will change color. And then winter will be here.

In California, I don’t get to experience this, and sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to live here permanently. Specifically, near the beach. I’ve heard Wilmington is pretty.

“—you parents just really care,” El says, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, what?”

“I said I’m sorry for what I said. I know your parents just really care.”

I drop my gaze to the ruby red plastic tumbler filled with water. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. You’re not entirely wrong.”

She picks up another fry and twirls it around the ketchup. “I really hate that you can’t do what you love and have to put up with their ridiculous expectations.”

“They’re not ridiculous. It’s the least I can do.”

El’s the only person who knows what I want to do and has encouraged me to do it. I want to pursue being a music teacher, I really do, but the last thing I want to do is disappoint my parents more than I already have.

I wouldn’t have the life that I do if it weren’t for them.

“But that’s not the only reason I’m stressed…” I eye the basket of cajun crinkle fries. My mouth waters and my fingerstwitch, wanting nothing more than to pick one up, but I refrain from grabbing one.

Natalie is getting married next year, and my bridesmaid dress has already been altered. So if I gain weight, Mom would lose it.

She arches a brow, a playful gleam on her face. “Does this have something to do with the hot basketball player that?—”

I cut her off with a glare. “No, this has nothing to do with him.”

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