One is Rust the Other is Gold

6: Old Habits Die Hard

I was screwed. After cleaning up and putting on some fresh clothes, I looked through the photocopied documents I had detailing my tuition account. My parents make two payment installments a year for my school. The first half the of the year has been paid, but the last half, my final semester before graduation, would need to be paid in the next few months. How could I earn thousands within a few short months and still have time to not flunk out of all my classes? What would I do if I couldn't graduate?

Could I get a loan without a bank account and zero credit? You need to be 18 to open a bank account in Italy and asking my parents for help with that right now would be useless. Why is everything falling apart right when I was about to reach the finish line?

Mom still hadn't answered her phone, which would normally be no cause for concern, but I was still shaken over my visit with dad. Dad going on a drunken paranoid rant also wasn't unusual, but something about the combination of events made me wonder if I should worry. Mom was a self-seeking and resourceful person, so part of me was confident she was okay, but another part wondered...

I kept my visit with my parents vague to my friends. I just texted them that my parents said "no" to helping me financially for college and they were "going through something right now." My friends texted back with encouraging messages.

"That's too bad! I was thinking about getting a part-time job at a pizza place. Want to apply with me?"

"Even if you can't get into your university of choice, you can go to public uni. Either way, you'll get a degree and work your way up from there. Don't give up!"

"I'll still help you with scholarships. You'll be okay!"

How was I going to tell them I might not even graduate High School with them, much less college?

I had to clear my head. It was a dreary day and maybe it was affecting my mood and making me overreact. Plus, lying in bed all day left my beaten body sore, stiff, and barely able to move. I needed to get up and stretch a little. Everything would be fine. My parents will make up and things will go back to normal. Right? The sky was gray and a soft drizzling of rain blanketed the city. I took my umbrella and enjoyed slowly walking the uncrowded streets alone to recharge and reflect. The fresh air filtered through rain was energizing.

I should have never gone on that walk. I saw a woman in front of a cafe on her phone, gesturing wildly. There was a small awning above her that kept her and the few tables out front dry. I didn't see an umbrella with her, but she was wearing a rather large, stylish hat that would keep her head dry. It looked as if she was having an argument with someone on the other line. She had left her purse unattended, its strap draped over the back of her chair. On her table was a cup of coffee and a half-eaten pastry. It wouldn't hurt if I meandered across the street just to look, right? I wasn't actually going to take the purse. I just wanted to see if I could get close enough to see if an opportunity would present itself. This was only an experiment. To satisfy my curiosity.

As I got closer, I noticed the woman's clothes and shoes. All designer. The bag was designer. Even if she had little cash, just selling the bag would cover a big portion of my tuition.

"I told you, I put the papers on my desk!" the woman was pacing back and forth, still not paying attention to her purse. How foolish of her, thinking just because it was raining and there weren't many people out, that she could afford to look away from her bag.

I know I promised my friends I wouldn't steal anymore, but this was the last time. After this, I would stop. This one bag could solve all my problems until graduation. I could afford to get a part-time minimum wage job to help pay the rest if I sold this bag. That would make Trish happy. Desperate times calls for desperate measures.