Choosing Paths

I think my ceiling needed a new coat of paint. I needed a new dresser as well, maybe a couple of shoes, a new door, perhaps a bulletproof bathroom.

I continued to make up silly scenarios in my head while I waited for my parents to get home. It was Saturday, and they still had to go to work—at least my mom does. All Dad did was drink his pension away and pretend we were a happy family.

I shook my head to dispel unnecessary thoughts. Today was a good day, people! I got out of high school last month. I was going to check the mail today; my admission letter was arriving, and we were going to do a family dinner to celebrate or.... not. Either way, I was scared shitless. I wasn't a smart kid. My grades were average, and I didn't want them to get better than that. Call me crazy or not a serious-minded student, but I was happy, and that was it I didn't want to be the "smart" kid. I was happy as I was.

I spent hours on my bed thinking, turning, and playing video games. Yes, I play video games. I don't do Barbie dolls. We kill zombies and fight wars on TV—it’s epic if you ask me. I played with my friends for a while before I decided that I needed to get my ass out of bed to do my chores and eat. Like, seriously, I needed to eat. I'm skinny, almost 6 feet, and I look more like a guy than a girl except when I do some excessive make-up. Yes, this is me.

I cleaned out my room some, packed my clothes all together, and put them in the dresser. I’ll sort them out later. I swept, cleaned, did laundry, then I proceeded to do the whole house. I swept, cleaned, and arranged the house, or my version of arranging. It looked acceptable anyway.

I walked into the kitchen, cleaned the dishes, swept... again, then finally I got to order pizza.

I messed with my phone some before the doorbell rang. I got the pizza, left a tip, then went back to my phone while I ate.

As you might have noticed, I talk a lot. That's one of my hobbies, actually. I could talk forever, but I do know when to shut up or not talk at all. My name's Katya Renua Greyson. I'm 15, an odd age, I know, but I don't really look it. I'm half-Nigerian half-Black American. Cool combo, that I also know.

It took a couple of hours before I heard a key jingle. Yay, Daddy's back. I'm so excited. Note the sarcasm. I got up to disappear into my room till my mom got back, but I wasn't fast enough.

"Ren, I'm hungry. Make me dinner or, better still, wait for your mom to make dinner; you can’t cook to save your life. I wonder what you can actually do." Ladies and gentlemen, meet my dad. He's really sweet, honestly; I wonder where I would be without him… oh, I know, really happy. "Are you even listening to me? I wonder how you went through high school and now college. That's if you get in. I mean, my brother’s sons could do bett—" I zoned out from here. This is a typical conversation between my dad and I. Really loving family, I tell you.

"Did you clean this house, Ren?"

"Yes, I did."

"Well, clean it again, Ren. You're a woman, and I honestly can't understand how you can stand dirt. I wonder all the time about the things you get from that mother of yours. I'm going upstairs to sleep. When I get down here, this place better be spotless, and my food better be ready."

The light dimmed, and he exited.

Finally, some peace and quiet. I got back to shooting bad guys on my phone, this time while still watching some show about "things to say before 45." It was a long time ahead, but, oh well, you need to have your bullets before you shoot, right? Ha, now that's something to say before 45! Just don't say it in front of a criminal, though, that will end badly.

"Hey, honey. Is your dad home?"

"JESUS CHRIST, MOM! Do you want to kill me? When did you even get here? How did you get here?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. It’s not my fault your ears don't work even though you have them, neither is it my fault that I have quiet feet."

"Ha ha, Mom, so funny. Dad's home, by the way. He wants the house more spotless than it already is, and he wants his food ready before he wakes up, served in bed with wallpaper around the room, so he feels like he's in Santorini."

"Ha ha Kat, very funny. Alright then, let’s make your dad something to eat and then we can check your mail together like we planned."

We spent two more hours cooking for the "king." Not that I hated cooking; on the contrary, I loved it. I just hated how I had to do it like it was what I was born to do. My dad is a Nigerian, and you don't want to know how they view women in some tribes, so I count myself lucky that this is all I get to do.

Dinner was fun, just our spoons and knives speaking for us and occasionally our hands. It was really sweet how it all just seemed to rhyme, and we communicated perfectly. Silence while eating was a strong suit in this household. It was our normal, but tonight was my night, so I'm sure I was glowing brighter than an angel’s halo.

"Ren, get out of your head, and go get the letter, so we can see it," my mom said. I snapped back to reality. I prefer spacing out than basking in silence. It just wasn't my thing "If she had a brain, then I would understand why she needed to be in there, but unfortunately, she's all dry and empty." My dad just had to ruin my moment, but who cares. I run to my room to get the letter and back with my glow intact. I take a deep breath to steady my heart before I open the letter.

"What does it say, honey?" I keep looking at the letter, but only one word stands out. I think I stopped breathing at some point. I just stared and stared then stared some more.

"You see what I told you? How would she get in? Our neighbor's daughter didn't even get in, and she had the best grades last year, how exactly would she ge—"

"I got in." I cut him off.

I glanced at him as I take much needed air into my lungs.

"What?"

"I said I got in, Dad. You can look at the letter yourself if you want, but I still made it."

"OH, MY BABY IS FINALLY A COLLEGE STUDENT," my mom screamed while she hugged me.

"Oh God, Mom. Put me down; you're going to kill me before I even get in." I laughed and struggled in her arms.

"Alright, grown up. You got into college, and now you think you aren't my baby anymore. Sorry bun bun, you always will be," she said, still not letting me go.

"Fine, Mom. You win. I need to go to bed now."

"Night, hun. We'll discuss this more in the morning," she said.

I walked with a spring in my step back to my room.

My scary dreams couldn't even wipe the smile off my face.

This year was definitely going to be good.

Remember when I said this year was going to be great? I take that back. In fact, I take it all back. It had been three days since we read the letter, and my mom kept prancing around the house like I was about to get married.

I haven't had any decent sleep these past few days. Even my dad had enough sense to get in and out of her way faster than a flash. I wasn't that lucky. I mean, I was the one with the halo till she stole it... pfft!

We were in my room, and I'd never hated this little space like I did today. She was invading every personal fudging space I had. She packed this and threw that, hung this and tore that, screamed at this and gushed at that. Jesus, take me now. I really wasn't cut out to be a woman.

"Hey, honey. I'm going to get some more gowns for you," my mom said while I groaned into my pillow.

"Mom, I hate dresses. Just get pantsuits or something. Besides, it’s college, and I'm not going for job interviews."

"Hush, what would you know?" She held up a manicured finger to her lips with a stern look resting on her face. "We need to put a stop to these boyish clothes you choose to wear. You're a lady, and you have to start acting like one."

"Mom, lady or not, I still hate dresses, and I'd like it if you didn't waste money getting those things ‘cause I wouldn't wear them. I love my boyish clothes; it shows the whole me. I won’t wear something that makes me look for my already invisible ass," I countered as we shared a laugh, stressing the word “boyish” with air quotes.

"Fine. But honey, your ass is fine. You're still so young. Give it some time. All the body parts will fall into place," she assured me with a friendly expression.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I hope so."

We fell into a comfortable silence after that, and I even napped a bit. Her invasion didn't bug me anymore. The sounds of moving boxes and ruffling clothes were lulling me into a deeper sleep, but my phone chimed, disturbing my sleep. I peeled my eyes open and checked it to see a message from my boyfriend, Tristan.

Booboo: Hey, babe.

Shit! I forgot about him for a second. He got a full scholarship to the University of Colorado, and I was proud of him, but I didn't know what would happen to us after this. Another chime brought my attention back to my phone.

Booboo: Are you free rn, cause I wanna take you out. I won't get to see you for a while, so let’s go do something fun.

Me: I don't know, Tris. I'm not done packing and my mom is home.

Booboo: Come on, babe. Think of something, I can’t wait to see you. Come on, don't ruin the mood.

Me: Alright. Fine, but just for a couple of hours. I still need to get some things from the mall.

Booboo: That's great, I'll be parked down the block. Bye, love you.

Me: Love you too.

I dropped back on my bed dramatically. What was I going to do now? My mom didn't like Tristan, and she wouldn't let me go if I used him as an excuse. Kill me, somebody!

Well, I couldn't go back on my promise now. Tris would blow a fuse and maybe block me for a few days. He was petty like that, but I liked him.

I sighed again. I was too young to start thinking this much. Imagining me and Tris on a beach with fifteen kids made me laugh out loud, causing my mom to look at me like I was losing my mind. This made me double over in laughter. Now, my mom was looking all worried.

"Are you okay?" She froze and narrowed her eyes at me. "Because I don't think going to college makes people go crazy."

"I'm fine M-o-m," I said between laughs.

"Kat, cut it out right now. I won't have a maniac under my roof!"

"Ugh, fine, Mom. You're no fun. Anyway, can I go see Becca really quick?" I grinned. "She's moving to England, and I don't know when she'll be coming back."

Half-truth and half-lie. Becca was my best friend. She has been for a couple of years now, and her moving was a huge step for both of us. I didn't even need to fake the sadness on my face. Her moving sucked.

"Oh, honey. Sure, you can. Be safe and give her my regards. I know this is tough, but you can always go visit. And there's always Skype, so it's not as bad as you think."

"Thanks, Mom. That means a lot. I'll be out for a while... You know, goodbyes and all." I scratched my hair, mentally doing a cartwheel.

"Sure, honey. Take your time," Mom cooed, while I fought to hide my smile.

I jumped out of bed and ran out of the house. I got down the block in record time and saw his black truck parked by the bakery. Halting, I jogged down to it and slipped into the passenger’s seat.

"Hey, babe. I was about to drive off. What took you so long?" Tris questioned, turning on the ignition and hitting the road.

"Sorry, babe. I had to tell my mom I was going over to Becca's place. You know she doesn't like you," I said, while quickly buckling in. Tris was a reckless driver.

"I don't care, babe. As long as you love me... that's all I care about." He flashed his dimples.

Earlier in the relationship, I would have blushed, feeling on top of the world. But honestly, it made no sense how I needed to fight for his parents’ approval, and he couldn't do the same.

We pulled into an arcade center, and I squealed like a kid. I couldn't help it because I loved the games here.

We played for hours. We ran around like kids, and people turned to stare, but I didn't care. I was going off to college, and honestly, I didn't even know what to expect. So, if this was my last few hours of freedom, I was going to lap it up.

After some time, I got tired and bought some food. Tris bought ice cream, and we just sat for hours, talking, and laughing. It was crazy how much we knew each other. It was like he was my twin. We had been dating for three years, and my age made it seem weird at first, but if he was cool with it. then so was I.

"You look beautiful when you get lost in your head like that." He ran his thumb on my chin, and an uncontrollable creepy smile spread on my face.

"Thanks, Tris."

He went back to staring into nothing, and I watched him for a while. A frown crawled up my face, and asked I myself when it all changed, when my heart didn't skip like it did, why my almost-black skin couldn’t blush around him anymore, and when saying I love you sounded so normal.

"This is the end, isn't it?" He broke the silence.

I knew what he meant, but I didn't think I needed to answer, for we had both felt the shift. I had a lot of things to say, but I just settled for a simple, "I love you, Tris."

Locking gazes, I smiled at how pretty his eyes were. Brown and drool worthy.

"I love you too, baby girl. Remember I'll be here whenever or wherever." He held my hand and squeezed it a little. "You'll always be my first love, but we both know it isn't working out that way anymore. It’s time I allow other boys to come closer."

We laughed at that. I had a few male friends, and he drilled most of them. Only my friends stayed; my admirers ran for their dear lives.

"I'll miss you, baby girl. Promise we'll Skype." He held out his pinky.

I laughed then intertwined mine with his. "I promise."

We shared a long hug filled with laughs. After that, he drove me over to Becca's place. We hugged goodbye once more before I watched him drive off. I would miss him.

"Well, I thought you had gotten kidnapped and thrown to the wolves," a voice filled with a terrible British accent said. My head turned so fast I got a whiplash.

"Don't ever speak like that ever again. That wasn't just terrible, it was plain murder. You're a murderer!" I exclaimed jokingly to Becca as we giggled on her doorstep.

"Was that Tristan?" she asked "Yeah, we kinda broke up."

“What, how could you guys break up? What are we singles supposed to do?" Becca yelled, swinging her hands around dramatically. "Oh my god, you guys finally broke up!" I covered my ears waiting for her to calm down.

"Yes, we did break up. Oh, well... we had to. Come on, you know it just didn't feel the same anymore." I poked her shoulder, frustration evident in my eyes.

"Yeah, I do. But anyways, my flight leaves tomorrow. I'll be back for summer break, and I'll miss you so much, boo." She sniffled, which caused the tears I held at bay to flood in.

We spent hours crying, laughing, singing, hugging, packing, running around, and just having fun.

I checked the time, and it was past 6. I needed to get home.

We cried some more, made promises, and soon, I was on my way.

Two of my favorite people were going off on their own adventures. I hoped I could create mine.

I hoped I would.