Control

1 - Just Keep Smiling

"Your change is four dollars and thirty cents."

My voice wavers as I speak, like someone is pushing on my throat. My hand shakes slightly, not noticeably but enough to fill me with an odd sense of dread that seems to dissipate quickly as the man on the other side of the counter leaves the bakery.

I sigh and look around at the place I've called home for the last three years of my life. Hollows Bakery. Every morning at 5, I wake up from my cozy apartment upstairs, get dressed, go downstairs and start making the pastries and muffins and whatever else I need to bake, and do my homework for the day. I'm tired, and I don't go to sleep at a reasonable hour at all, and I may skip breakfast every single day, but I try to make it work.

In all honesty, I would've quit my routine a long time ago. Every day I wish things were different. That maybe one day I'd wake up and be a normal college student who gets up at 8am in my dorm, go and get coffee at my favorite cafe with my friends, and head to class. Maybe I'd only have a part-time job, and I'd complain about the latest movie to my boyfriend or girlfriend and call my parents on the weekends. But that wasn't my life, and it never would be. I'd always be the one serving the coffee, and I'd never be as carefree as everybody else.

Once I see that no one else is in the small cafe, I head upstairs quickly, my white apron too big for me, the strings of it falling onto each step as I make my way up, occasionally tripping over them.

"Eddie-bear, come on, it's time to get up!" I say it with a smile on my face, but I'm not feeling remotely up to walking him to the elementary school. I can't stand the stares of the parents of kids Eddie's size, their judgement practically shouting at me as I walk him to his class.

Every day at 8am, I get Eddie up if he isn't awake already, and quickly walk him 15 minutes away to the Elementary school. I would drive him, but I can't afford a car, and don't have my license, but I don't think Eddie minds. He's Six, so it's not like he notices when I don't look up from the sidewalk and try to not make eye contact with his friends' parents. He just enjoys seeing the butterflies, or the dogs in people's yards. I enjoy it too, and I'm grateful for him, I really am, but my life would be so different if circumstances were different. If Dad wasn't who he was.

"Lili, I don't want to go to school." He grumbles, his curly mess of bed hair sticking up in odd angles, making me giggle at him before hoisting him up in my arms and setting him on the cold wooden floor. I get a comb from the bedside table, working on his hair as he tries to shake me off. Once I'm done, I put the comb back on the bedside table, and squat down to be face to face with him.

I smile widely, and say, "if you can get ready in 5 minutes, I'll give you one of the cinnamon rolls that were made this morning."

He widens his eyes, and his little mouth opens in shock. "Really?" He asks hopefully. I nod, mumbling a quick mhm, before rushing back downstairs.

"I better see you in 5 minutes, Eddie-bear."

He comes down in 8 minutes, I give him his cinnamon roll anyways, and I walk him over to the elementary school. It takes time, time I really don't have, but I live with it. If I was enrolled in college full-time, my schedule would be a serious issue, but once I was accepted on scholarship to UCLA, I quickly met with the guidance counselors and told them my situation, partially at least. I can't be too honest. I haven't been fully honest with anyone for years, and I plan to keep it that way, for me and Eddie's sake. My counselors and I made a plan, I'd be enrolled in college part-time, taking two or three classes per semester.

I'm studying to get my majors in child psychology and communications, and a minor in linguistics. I already speak multiple languages, so the linguistics minor was just kind of convenient for me. And I want to study child psychology to help kids that don't get any help. Kids like Eddie and me. Well, I guess I'm not a kid anymore. 20 years on earth and I still refer to myself as a kid, but being around Eddie and no one else for three years really does something to my psyche.

I shake out of my thoughts, walking to the university as fast as I can. It's ten minutes from the cafe, but 25 minutes from the school, which is never fun. I have a meeting with my guidance counselors to discuss my schedule. They have to get to my schedule last, seeing as how my hours are horrible to deal with. Luckily, my majors gives me many option to complete my degree. I'm starting my third year, but even though I don't do as many classes as my classmates, I'm on track to graduate this year.

I take a lot of night classes. I have insomnia, might as well use it for my benefit.

I enter the guidance counselors office to see 2 of mine, Ms. Gardner and Mr. Arthur. Ms. Gardner is caring, and has helped me through much of my scheduling struggles as I've been in college, and Mr. Arthur helps me with finances. I have a slight fear of men, but with Mr. Arthur being older than my grandfather, and his perfectly relaxed posture all the time, I've quickly gotten used to him.

"Ah, Ms. Taylor, please take a seat," Ms. Gardner says, pulling out a manilla folder of my information across the conference room desk, Mr. Arthur grabbing his own and pulling out papers.

Mr. Arthur speaks into the room, his voice soft and calming. "You look a little wet. Did you walk here?" Did I mention it was raining outside? Oops.

"Yes, it was a nice day out. The rain felt cool." I smile widely, trying to believe myself.

He smiles, "well as long as you enjoy it, that's all that matters. I just wanted to let you know that I've gone over your next semester's potential schedule with Ms. Gardner and your finances look great. Your scholarship covers almost all of the bill, and the rest you can pay for without cutting out a large part of your budget."

"How much would I be paying for the semester?"

"About a thousand a month." Shoot.

"U-Uhm, that's great." I'll just stop eating lunch, and that should help a lot.

"Great, now Ms. Gardner is going to go over your next semester's schedule. I'll be on my way." He leaves the room slowly, and I turn to Ms. Gardner.

She slides over a piece of paper highlighting two classes. One is Italian 103, about intermediate level, and the other class is psychology of sex and human relationships.

Wait, psychology of sex and human relationships? That can't be right.

She sees my confused look, and pushes her red glasses further up her face before clearing her throat and elaborating. "You needed another psychology class, and your communications degree fits into this class because of the human relationship portion. This is actually the perfect class for both of your majors, Ellie."

"But my degree would be in child psychology, that class doesn't seem relevant to my degree at all." I'll admit, I may be a little afraid to take the class. It's an intermediate level class, and I'm not exactly intermediate when it comes to sex. Hell, I'm 20 years old and haven't felt anything sexual or even romantic to anyone in 6 years, it's pathetic. I get nervous whenever the subject is even briefly mentioned, and I'm sure taking that class wouldn't help my nerves.

"Ellie, I promise you that this is a good class, one that I know you can ace. The professor is a genius, and those who get an A in his class usually receive rewards by him at the end of the semester."

Rewards? "I'm confused, what do you mean by rewards?"

"He owns a business associated with the school, I believe the students who do good in his class go on to be interns in his company for a while. It's a very appealing opportunity, one that I know you'd be able to achieve. Please give the class a shot." I nod, wanting to please her in any way I can. She smiles and stands up, shaking my hand before saying her final goodbyes. As I make my way out, I check my phone as I walk. Immediately, an email from the college gets sent to me, saying that my first human sexualities class starts on Tuesday. Tomorrow.

It's still raining, but I don't even notice until I bump into someone. Or should I say, three people. Three people who felt like bricks.

"I'm sorry for bumping into you, my mistake!" I can barely see them, but I notice that I accidentally caused one of them to drop his briefcase. I bend down to pick it up, handing it to him before quickly walking off.

Eventually, I'm inside the warmth of the bakery, and go immediately behind the counter, putting on my apron and mustering up a smile.

Just keep smiling. Just keep smiling. Things always get better over time. Just keep smiling.