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"Fucking hell.." Sammy groaned, pushing her wavy cotton-candy-pink hair out of her forehead. We were sat in the cafeteria at our usual table. Lunch period was halfway over yet none of us had even so much as touched our food.
I had just told Sammy and Cat about the fight with my parents and how they were 100% set on deciding my future for me.
"That's horrible" Cat whispered, her eyes filled with pity for me.
The two of them were stunned into silence for a moment, their faces pulled into sour frowns.
"You two really are fucked" Sammy mumbled after a while. None of us knew what to say.
"Well, welcome aboard the 'my parents hate me' ship" Cat sighed.
Cat's dad was no different. Unlike Sammy and me, Cat was an only child and her parents, especially her dad, put a lot of pressure on her when it came to grades. She had gotten hell for her bad grade on the last Math test. Cat had admitted to us that she cried herself to sleep for days after that when we asked her about her red eyes.
I could sometimes still see her shaking in Math class out of the corner of my eye when she was asked a question by the teacher. That's how bad it was. It sucked. Her dad wanted her to become a lawyer for whatever selfish fucked up reason.
Someone explain to me why some parents think lawyer, doctor or CEO are the only acceptable career choices for their children? What made them value money more than their children's happiness?
"So a lawyer and a business woman hm?" Sammy bit her lip. "What's next? Me becoming the first female Catholic priest?" she snickered. Sammy was a bisexual Atheist. "This is bullshit"
I knew she'd react this way. I knew she would be pissed. But this time, unlike usual there was nothing Sammy could do. No one she could intimidate or threaten and that annoyed her even more. None of us knew how to sugarcoat this.
"Why don't we just move away?" she suggested.
Cat's face had turned to stone. I knew she wanted to work in fashion or design but that she had long given up any hopes of standing up to her father. I could see how tired she was of talking about it. Her strategy of coping with all this was to ignore it for as long as she could.
"With what money?" I sighed, picking at the cold pasta in front of me with my fork.
