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Chapter 6 The News

  • "Mom, what do you think of Carlo?" I asked as we drove into our neighborhood.
  • "I like him," I replied with a sigh, running my hands over my knees. But I still hadn't told her about what happened this afternoon. I had left in the morning to meet a friend, but when I returned, I had a lease for a spare room in my bag.
  • Living at home made it hard to distinguish between being a child and an adult. My parents were respectful of my age, but they still treated me like a kid, asking where I was going and when I'd be back every time I went out. Whenever I mentioned moving out, they'd bring up the expenses and suggest waiting until I finished my undergrad.
  • I had saved up a good amount of money, and my original plan was to wait until I finished college to get a nice apartment or maybe even buy a car. But now, I was glad I hadn't, because I had more than enough money to make moving out a reality.
  • "He lives in that house on the corner," my mom asked, pointing. I nodded, confirming that Carlo lived there with a group of friends.
  • "How much does he pay for rent?" she inquired, and I just shrugged.
  • "Somewhere between six and forty," I said, recalling the lease I had briefly glanced at. It was $643 a month, as Carlo had mentioned.
  • "That's quite a lot," my mom sighed as she turned onto our street. "Back when I was a student, it was much cheaper."
  • "Well, that was in the 1980s when tuition was less than $2,000 a year," I pointed out, looking out the window. "Besides, they live with their friends and are close to campus and everything else."
  • "It sounds fun, but you don't understand the relief of graduating without any debt," she insisted as she pulled into our driveway.
  • My mom had always wanted me to stay home to avoid accumulating debt, but I knew deep down that she also enjoyed having me around. Sometimes, I felt like I was her only friend.
  • "But, Mom, you say it's worth it, and I don't think it is," I admitted. "I hardly spend time with people my age, so I feel left out. I just want to experience what other students do."
  • "I know you do, honey, but I think it's best for you to stay here," she said firmly. "Besides, you're almost done with your studies."
  • "Mom," I repeated, and she raised an eyebrow before parking the car. "I really want to leave," I told her.
  • "I understand, but you know how things work," she replied, sighing. "I'm not sure if you're ready, especially considering how you get when you're stressed."
  • I used to have severe panic attacks when I was younger, and my parents had to help me through them. But it had been years since my last one, and I was tired of it being used against me.
  • "Mom, I'm twenty-one," I reminded her. "I want to be an adult. I live in my old bedroom at home and don't even have a car. I want to be independent."
  • "I know you do, honey. If a good opportunity comes along, we can consider it," she sighed, and I pursed my lips.
  • "What if a good opportunity has already come along?" I asked, opening my bag and searching through it.
  • "You know Carlo is a year ahead of me in school, right?"
  • "Yes," she responded, her voice carrying a sense of weariness.
  • "He's moving to New Jersey?" I replied, pulling the lease out of my bag. "Their apartment needs another roommate, and he asked if I'd like to join." I shrugged and turned on the overhead light, unfolding the lease. "The rent is reasonable, and-"
  • "You didn't discuss this with me?" She asked, sounding hurt, and I blinked in surprise.
  • "Mom, I'm twenty-one," I reminded her. She sighed and shook her head, as if she'd forgotten.
  • "I'm just worried, you know, it's so expensive out there. It's not just rent; it's also groceries and utilities-"
  • "Mom, I've been saving money since high school!" I interjected. "I already have a job and enough savings to make it work."
  • "I don't think you've thought this through enough," she sighed. "We can talk about it, but I'm not sure if this is the right time."
  • "What time is it?" I asked, and she ran a hand through her hair.
  • "I don't know, but it feels like you're rushing into this," she shrugged and sighed. "Who are these roommates, and have you even met them before?"
  • "I met two of them in the first year, and today, when I went to check out the place, I met the third one," I replied, trying to reassure her.
  • "Are these roommates all men?" She inquired, taking the lease from my hand and flipping through its pages.
  • "Kyle... someone, and..." She paused, trying to identify a signature, and I rolled my eyes. "Julianna Macey, give me a straight answer now. Are they all men?"
  • "Yes!" I exclaimed, taking the papers back. "Why is that even a concern? I've met them, and they're all nice people. They're good guys!"
  • "I don't like this idea; it doesn't sit well with me," she replied, and I shrugged.
  • "Well, that's not my problem," I retorted. "I'll decide after I've thoroughly reviewed the lease." With that, I opened the car door and walked towards the house.
  • My mom had a tendency to treat me like a child, struggling to let me make adult decisions. Her parenting had its quirks; there were no restrictions on how much TV I could watch, how much soda I could drink, where I could have sleepovers, or even how much I could eat. But they wouldn't allow me to have social media until I turned 16, and when I was younger, they would go through my phone whenever they felt like it.
  • They wanted to be informed about everything, and I suspected they still felt that way. My parents weren't ready for me to grow up, and as much as I loved them and cherished being at home, I needed to step out into the world.
  • I enter my front door and spot my dad busy cooking in the kitchen. "Hey, everyone! How was your day?"
  • "It was okay," I respond with a casual shrug, kick off my shoes, and make my way to the kitchen.
  • "Julianna!" Mom calls out as she follows me inside, and I head to the kitchen island while still holding the lease. It's never a good sign when either of my parents uses my full name.
  • "What's that you're holding?" Dad inquires, gesturing toward the piece of paper in my hand.
  • "It's a rental agreement," I reply nonchalantly, and Dad looks at me with a puzzled expression.
  • "What's the lease for?"
  • "Henry, she wants to move in with three guys!" Mom exclaims, her anger evident as she storms into the kitchen. "She made this plan without informing us about it at all."