Nightlife ✓

30 | rift

MY FRIENDS WERE SURPRISED BUT not shocked when I told them the news.

Apparently, my apathy for Pre-Med had been made clear to Viv throughout all the years we studied together. She'd written it off as me taking it too seriously, however, rather than being deeply dissatisfied with it. The Jays, Riley and Viv had been nothing but supportive.

I told them over dinner that no matter the outcome of my secondary applications, I would reject any offers I was made. Instead, I explained, I was looking to pursue graduate study in Biotechnology. I wouldn't be wasting my Pre-Med degree because I needed all the core health concepts I'd learnt over the years in my new career.

But I could apply my love for coding to things like bionics, robotic surgery, and medical imaging. The industry was much smaller than medicine and even more competitive, but it wasn't a case of do-or-die. Depending on the topic of my research thesis, I would become an expert in a very selective niche of Biotech. There would always be a demand for my field of knowledge somewhere, maybe even internationally.

The pay was worse, but the payoff was better, to me. I had always wanted to change my world with my own hands. I wanted to get involved in life-changing procedures and technologies directly. Solving problems and creating solutions, not just following the rulebook someone else had written. Pre-Med had seemed like the only viable option for that, but now I'd discovered alternative avenues that didn't include sitting with the guilt and responsibility of treating human patients.

"It's not even a far cry from medicine," Viv reasoned. "I don't know why your Mom freaked out."

"She's had this image of me in her head since I was fourteen. A beautiful doctor that she can brag about to all her friends. I think I just dashed it to pieces."

"Then she'll come around once she gets used to the idea," Riley said comfortingly, "I'm sure if you let her know that you intend to become a doctor still — just a different type — she won't mind at all."

"I think so, too. I feel bad for palming her anger off to Dad and Kev, though. They shouldn't be the ones to have to calm her down," I told them.

From the sympathetic looks everyone was giving me, I could tell they didn't understand why I was feeling guilty. They thought I had no responsibility to cater to my Mom's wishes for me, and that my decisions shouldn't be made with her opinion in mind.

But it wasn't that simple.

Mom's love for me was inextricably tangled with her dreams for me. She pushed me because she loved me. If one day she came home not caring how many vegetables I'd eaten that day, not caring that I made it to my next photoshoot, not caring that I ventilated my room at night, not caring what major I chose for college, I would be shocked. I would wonder where Mom had gone, or why she had stopped loving me.

The way she showed her love was by exerting her supposed wisdom over my decisions. I knew that it wasn't the most comfortable way to live, but I had come to appreciate it over the years. I wondered how we could move forward from this, and if we'd ever be as close again.

"That's what family does," Jamie said softly. "I'm sure you did the same for Kevin when he was on the receiving end."

I nodded, staring at my dinner. The uncooked broccoli on my plate was a stark contrast to the vegetables at home, which were always at least steamed, if not sauteed or fried. My eyes watered thinking about Mom's cooking. "Yeah."

Jake piped up, his observant nature clearly noting the need for a laugh. Otherwise, I might have cried right there in the dining hall. "You'd take a butt-whooping for me, right, baby bro?"