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Chapter Twenty · Five

(Pic of Eliza's parents: Jennifer Connelly in the image of Marina Carter, age: 43 and Steve Carell in the image of Matthew Carter also known as Matt, age: 50)

Eliza

We arrived at this place called Rossoblu, an Italian restaurant. The scenery was pretty classy, not too formal, more casual, and very artsy, I'd say.

(Included real pictures of the restaurant: Rossoblu. I do not own credits to any of these photos.)

We were seated in dark-brown wooden chairs at a square white table in the middle of the restaurant, and already had placed our orders: I ordered lasagna bolognese with a glass of some high-priced wine that I couldn't pronounce properly because it was written in Italian. The good part of it, I'm not paying. While we waited for our food and drinks to arrive, I kept myself occupied with the appetizer of garlic bread, the server placed at the center of our table.

"Eliza, honey, how are you liking college so far, making any friends?" Mom asked, starting up a conversation. She and dad were looking directly at me. The pressure. "It's been fine. I've made a friend. Her name is Becca. She was already ahead of me by a couple of years, and graduated already, but we remain in touch." I explained somewhat the truth. "That's great, sweetheart. What was her major?" Dad questioned me curiously. "She received her bachelor's in business," I answer. "Wow, that's pretty impressive." Dad replied, intrigued. "Yeah, what a bright young lady she is. She's going to be very successful. You're going to be just as successful once you're top neurosurgeon." Mom said. "Yeah, right." I say quietly, taking another bite out of my bread stick. My parents are so obsessed with being successful, they're such overachievers and expect nothing less from me.

I was more than happy when our food finally arrived at our table; I didn't want to continue the rest of this conversation. Immediately, I dug in, my stomach grumbled as if there was a monster inside trying to get out. It went quiet for a bit. Just the sounds of our silverware hitting against our plates. Unfortunately for me, the silence came to an end. "So, other than making friends, what's it like there?" She asked before sticking a fork full of pasta into her mouth. I wish she'd just given it a rest already, but that's my mom, never knowing when enough is enough. "Mom, come on, you know what's it like, you've been to college." I say this before sipping some wine. "I know, but every experience is different and I would like to hear about yours."
"Well, have you ever thought that maybe I just don't want to talk about it." I snapped, not sure if it was me or the wine talking, but I didn't care either way. "Hey, watch your tone." Dad said sternly, cutting into the conversation. I mentally rolled my eyes at him. Mom overlooking my attitude, she says, "Now don't be silly, darling, why wouldn't you want to talk about the one thing you have going for yourself right now?"

Okay, that's it. I draw the line here. I've had it with her snide comments. I threw my fork down onto the plate, causing a loud, clinging sound. "You know what, mom, stop, just stop it, okay?" She lowered the fork she held between her fingers and replied with, "What? What am I doing?" Dad, still eating, he looks between us. "You've been overbearing and criticizing everything that I've done since you've been here. I mean, are you really here for me or to just make sure I don't screw up my 'perfect' life you both mapped out for me?" I implied, crossing my arms. My blood was at its tipping point and I was going to get whatever it was all off my chest, no matter what. "Honey, I really don't see why you're upset. I'm just looking out for you. We both are." She said. "Yeah, by being obnoxious–" I commented; dad intervened. "You will not speak to your mother that way. Show some respect." He shot me a disapproving look, then threw his napkin down onto the table.
I huffed. "Oh, bite me." I said to dad. Mom, typically being dramatic, she gasped and dropped her fork onto the plate. "Eliza, Mackenzie Carter!"
"What is the matter with you?!" Dad shouted at me after mom. A few other people who sat nearby overheard and glanced at us. Words can't describe how humiliated I feel right now. I was so over this day.

"You know what? You both want to know what's wrong? Fine, here it goes–I dropped out of school. How's that for your perfect daughter, huh?" I say. "You what?!" Mom screamed. Oh, you can't be serious." Dad scoffed with a look of disbelief. "What on earth would possess you to do such a thing?!" Mom asked. "Oh! I don't know, mom." I laugh sarcastically before turning serious. "Maybe because I was overly stressed, trying to be perfect for you both! You guys are always so hard on me. I had to get perfect grades and join extra curricula. You guys kept me sheltered from living a normal life. I couldn't be a normal kid and go to fun kid parties or just get a breath of fresh air. You even went as far as sending me to an all-girls school, which was horrible. I was bullied nearly all the time, and you didn't even care. Just sent me right back. So I'm sorry that I screwed up, but it is fucking exhausting trying to please you both. I spat bitterly, my voice cracking at the end as I fought back tears.

"Well, kids are mean sometimes, honey. It wasn't something you couldn't handle. This is your adult life we are talking about and you're telling us that you would rather be a nobody than be a successful person?" She asked. Dad just shook his head, too disappointed in me to say anything. He just had a look of disgust on his face and I couldn't lie. It stung like a bitch. "Are you even listening to me?" I wiped away a tear. "I am and what I'm hearing is how you're being a completely ungrateful brat right now! The life your father and I fought so hard to give you, and this is how you repay us?! By throwing it down the drain?!" She shouted before sighing deeply. "All we have ever wanted was the best for you. So, you can hate me or him all you want, but I will not sit here and be blamed for your irresponsible choice nor apologize for doing what was best for you, whether you liked it or not," she hissed at me. Her words pierced through me like a knife. It was sharp and brutal. "And neither will I." I was fed up with their bullshit. I pushed my chair back from the table and got up and headed for the door. I left out of the restaurant and kept walking. I didn't stop once. I wanted to be as far away from them as possible. They drove here, but I didn't care. I'd find my own way home. I cannot stand to be in their presence right now.

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Well, that didn't go so well.

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