Academically Inclined

Part I: Happy Birthday, Tori

The alarm began its abrasive and rhythmic efforts to wake me from my slumber. From years of experience, I had conditioned my sleepy and flimsy hand to maneuver its way to quiet my alarm without me having to open my eyes. Once my alarm had been silenced, I turned over in my bed and exhaled a deep sigh- not one of fatigue, I had gone to bed early for once. Rather, my apprehension was stemming from the knowledge of it being my 18th birthday.  Not that I was expecting a lavish celebration or recognition, but rather, I understood that it would be the topic of many forced and uncomfortable conversations with my classmates, no better than acquaintances, at school. To make matter more complicated, my mother taught at the same school that I attended, so I was no stranger to unwanted attention. Even worse, my mother  made it a point to celebrate my birthday during class. I knew that it came from a good place, but it stopped being social acceptable after middle school, but the people pleaser in me felt that it was too late to say anything now with it being my senior year.

In the next room, I heard my mother's voice loudly encourage, "good morning, honey! Are you up yet? I wanted to say Happy birthday to you before I leave for work." At least she let me drive myself to school now that I was in high school- no more getting to school at the ass crack of dawn. "Yes, mom. I'll be right there!" I responded back in a kind, pleasing voice. I swung my blankets off my body, sat up on the side of the bed and engaged in a much needed stretch. I then, as promised, made my way over to my mother and father's room. Both of them were hastily dressing and getting ready for their day. Like I said earlier, my mom is a high school teacher, but I neglected to mention that my father is also an educator. In fact, he is a professor at a local university, and being that both of my parents have spent their life teaching, a mediocre academic standing would not be acceptable on any terms. Though I have always performed well within my studies, I felt that somehow I always fell short of my parents expectations of me. "There she is! Happy birthday, honey!" My mother cooed as she was securing her earrings and turning around to welcome me to the morning. "Thank you, mom!" I said as happily as I could muster. My dad was in my parents' shared closet cycling through his usual suspects when I saw him toss one tie back into a pile of clothing. His mind had been made for the day, navy with red stripes, it is! He walked into the room that my mother and I were currently in, and he began to mindlessly go through the motions of tie origami like most mornings that I had witnessed him getting ready. He then grabbed his brief case and began to head out the door. My eyes watched as he left the room without speaking a word to me. I did not say anything out of fear that it would have embarrassed him for potentially having forgotten his only child's birthday. My mother, on the other hand, called out, "Uh... James," with a nervous giggle, "you almost fooled Tori, but we all know you know it's her birthday!" My mother's eyes nervously shifted from me to my father and back again trying to be as convincing as possible. My father then turned around abruptly almost like he was caught red-handed. "Oh! Yes, I got you! I pulled one over on you! Happy birthday, kiddo!" I thanked my dad quickly hoping to put an end to the misery that was this shared conversation. "Well, I gotta go guys, but I will be around for dinner tonight. -Take out, right?" My dad said looking at my mom rather than me, the birthday girl. "Oh, yes, ... umm, honey..." my mother turned to me at this time with an expression of apprehension. "Could we pick something up tonight? You know... school night and everything, but we can do something this weekend?" This was less of a question and more of a statement of fact. "Of course, mom. Sounds great." I said before turning around to begin getting ready for school. I knew my parents loved me, but they were not the overly affectionate type. I had grown to understand this and make my expectations align with what they would emotionally provide to me. I am not saying this for pity but for understanding of how I became comfortable with standing on my own and meeting my own needs. 

My phone began buzzing as I began my morning routine. I looked down and was greeted with "1 New Text from Liv." Instead of reading it, I instructed my phone to call Liv. Liv had been my closest and dearest friend since our early elementary school days following a confrontation with a shared bully. Since then, we had been inseparable. I received generous and excited birthday wishes while I applied my sunscreen, concealer, blush and mascara. I then brushed and straightened my mid length light brown hair. We then began down a rabbit hole of rumors over the last week or two to explore the likelihood of accuracy and dispel the unlikely ruses. We continued our discussion as I perused my closet for something to wear. I decided on my usual pair of straight-legged jeans, and a plan Heather grey t-shirt that always seemed to fit me just right. My usual fashion sense was lackluster at best, but I especially wanted to wear something that made me feel comfortable and confident today as I knew there would be forced conversations with well-meaning classmates to wish me happy birthday who would otherwise ignore me any other day of the year. I laced up my converses, grabbed my backpack and car keys and headed out the door. 

As I pulled into the driveway of Liv, I saw her running out the door. I hung my phone and unlocked my car door so that we could continue our conversation during our normal car rides to school. Ever since I had gotten my driver's license, I had been driving Liv to school and back home once the day was over. The door flung open to then greet me with a very loud and excited, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!" I could not help but laugh at Liv. She was a very confident, charming and bright girl. Often I envied her ability to make conversation with anyone that could make anyone feel right at home. "Oh yeah yeah. Get your ass in the car before we are late." I sang out to her as I was still laughing. We continued our previous conversation for the duration of our drive to school. Finding our normal parking spot, I put the car in park and turned to Liv, "but do we really have to do this today? Like, it's my birthday, right? Shouldn't I be able to decide how I spend the day? The last thing I want to do is parade around this stupid school for eightish hours of my day." Liv's face twisted with laughter, "yes, you have to go to school. You know better than anyone else that your parents would kill you if you bailed." I shook my head knowingly and said defeatedly, "Fine. Let's go." We walked in and so far, it was feeling like a normal day. That is, until I saw Kaitlin the school "It Girl." Every chance she got, Kaitlin would go out of her way to ensure that everyone knew where they stood, and it seemed like today was going to be my not so lucky day. "I heard it was someone's birthday today. I hope your mommy brought all of your birthday party supplies." Kaitlin said in a squeaky baby voice trying to infantilize me more than I already felt. "I hope everyone shows up- it would be a total shame if no showed up--- WAIT! Is that why your mommy celebrates your birthday at school, because then we HAVE to come to your birthday party then? I mean, I guess that would be the only way anyone would show." At this point, a small crowd was developing to listen to theatrics that Kaitlin was delivery. Liv was beginning to turn physically red with anger and was about to strike. Yes, Liv was bubbly and social, but she also had the temper of a boiling tea kettle. "Back up before I throw you in the fucking trash where you belong," Liv said with full confidence. "Y'all are so pathetic. I feel so bad for you that it's not even fun for me to point out the obvious." Kaitlin said with venom in her voice and a smile. Liv and I walked away and to our first class where otherwise things went as usual. 

Our second period was my mom's class, and as we walked in the classroom, I knew almost instantaneously that something was off. My mother looked pale and distracted. Instead of going to my desk as I did everyday, I walked directly up to her and asked, "mom, are you okay?" She looked up at me with her pale green eyes, and said, "Honey, it's your father. He's in the hospital." 

I drove my mom to the hospital. It was a silent ride that I barely recall now upon reflection. I walked beside her making our way to find my father's room. We walked in, and my father looked as pale as my mother had when I had entered her classroom. Several nurses were swarming around him taking blood and making the effort of catching my mother up to speed by explaining diagnoses and terms, but based on the vacant expression, I assumed their efforts were not being received at this time. I, however, was the individual within the room that was able to not be overcome with emotion and tears; rather, I focused my energy and attention on soaking up as much information as I could around the likely treatment, prognosis and specialist details. Of course, I was worried, scared and mad but the only thing that mattered in my eyes was my responsibility to get all the information I could. I was interrupted in thought by my father's weak and cracking voice saying, "Happy Birthday, Tori." I knew this statement was originating from the weight of fear and concern for 'what if this is the last birthday he is around for?" So, instead of calling him out for the timing of his birthday wish, I said, "Thanks, dad. I love you." I then looked down at my shoes and began adjusting them nervously. "Yeap. Happy fucking birthday, Tori." I said to myself dryly. I imagined blowing out a single candle within my head resulting in complete darkness.