Page 113 of Grumpy Darling

“College applications.” She tapped one of her long, manicured fingernails against the lid of the laptop on the table in front of her.

“You want me to do that now?”

“Of course I do.”

“But I need to unpack, and Grayson’s game is this afternoon—”

“I don’t care.” My mom folded her arms over her chest. “You’re even further behind with everything than when I left.” She was beginning to raise her voice, which was a serious red flag. Mom was always intimidating by default, she rarely needed to change her expression when she wanted to convey her anger. Something was different today.

“Mom—” I tried to interrupt her, but she didn’t even pause for breath as she continued her rant.

“You’d understand how urgent this is if you’d actually attended the career fair. Or had a meeting with your counselor. I cannotbelieveyou missed it again. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother.”

I often wondered the same. It felt like we’d had this conversation a hundred times before. And every time, I’d nodded along, claimed I understood her concerns, and promised to do what she wanted. But that wasn’t fixing anything. I hadn’t planned for my future yet, because I didn’t know which path I wanted to take. And that was okay. Forcing me to go down a certain route just because she thought it was best was only making everything harder.

“Mom...” I spoke a little louder this time, but there was no stopping her.

“Some of these application deadlines have already passed. More are due this week. I won’t let you mess up your future, it’s too important, so I’m not letting you put this off any longer. You’re not leaving this room until every single one of your applications is complete.”

“No!” The word erupted from me, all my frustration spilling out at once. It wasn’t often I let my temper get the better of me, and I’d even shocked myself with my fierce response. But what else was I supposed to do when she refused to listen to me?

“No?” My mom’s stern expression faltered, but then instantly hardened. “This isn’t a discussion, Paige.”

“You’re right, it isn’t. I’ll apply for colleges if and when I’m ready. Not simply because you’ve forced an application into my hands.”

Mom looked like her head was about to explode. I’d never stood up to her like this before. It was terrifying, but I also felt a sense of lightness in my chest, like I’d unshackled something deep inside.

“You live under my roof, so you’ll do as you’re told,” she said, her voice quieter but no less demanding. “Sit down and get to work.”

She pulled back a chair for me, but I refused to budge. I was done tying myself in knots in order to turn myself into the pretty bow my mother wanted. I’d had a lot of time to think while she’d been away, and it was time she understood that I could make my own choices.

“Paige . . .” She nodded at the chair.

“What’s the point?” I said. “I might not even go to college.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “You know this is what’s best.”

“I know it’s whatyouthink is best. What about whatIwant?”

She was silent for about two seconds before she dismissed my words with a sweep of her hand. “You don’t know what you want.”

“No, I don’t,” I agreed. “But that’s okay! You act like it’s the worst thing in the world, but it’s not.”

“You won’t be saying that once you end up doing nothing with your life.”

“Better than ending up like you!”

Suddenly the room went quiet. My mom was stunned into silence. I’d shocked myself again too. Had I meant to say that out loud? Had I meant to yell it at her? I couldn’t be sure, but I took the opportunity to keep going.

“I’m going to find my way, Mom. I truly believe that. But you’ve got to understand that I’m not going to follow the same path you have.”

I’d never seen my mom lost for words before. And while it was nice to finally express my feelings, the surprise on her face was turning to sadness, and I didn’t know what to make of it. Was she still angry? Disappointed? Hurt? Either way, I knew it was time to finally get everything off my chest. She’d been pressuring me for so long that I couldn’t handle it any longer.

“I know you want me to make something of myself,” I continued, keeping my tone a little softer now. “But I’m not like you and Dad. I don’t want the same things. My path isn’t straight and narrow. It’s a winding, uneven trail through the trees. I’m going to get lost occasionally, but I’ll get where I want to go, eventually. You just have to trust me.”

Mom stared at me as I waited for her to respond. But then she did the last thing I expected. She burst into tears.

“Mom?” I whispered as she collapsed back into her chair and lowered her head into her hands. I approached her slowly and cautiously. I’d never seen my mom cry before. I didn’t realize she even knew how. A feeling of guilt rushed through me. I’d wanted to stand up for myself, but I hadn’t wanted to make her cry.

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