Oh, My, Addison

Chapter Forty-Two - Addison - Back To You

Note: While not explicit, this chapter may be triggering to others that come from families that may not be as supportive as others. Please remember to take care of yourself, and you deserve to do what is best for you. 

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Addison

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I come from an immigrant household. It's a life set on tradition and sticking to what we know. When I walk in, I'm always met with the smell of Filipino food, the expired snacks in the corner of the kitchen, and always some random music video or show on the television.

On the other hand, coming from a household set in tradition means that we ignore anything new - anything out of the ordinary - anything that can make us stick out. We ignore and ignore until it's too late to address. And if there's something we can't ignore - then we accuse.

So, I knew when I walked into a house full of silence after my tennis match that something was wrong. I gently set my duffel bag down and could feel the goosebumps start to rise on the back of my neck. I looked over my shoulder to confirm that my parents' cars were indeed parked in the garage.

"Hi, I'm home!" I yelled out, looking around to see that the family room was silent. There was nothing cooking on the stovetop, and no one greeted me with the typical errand to do. I did not feel good about this.

"Addison, come here." Shit.

I took a deep breath, my nervous system already on overload as I walked over to where I heard my mother's voice. She was sitting in the dining room with my dad, which they never sat together in their whole life, and a box of tissues with crumpled up pieces by them. Before them, a deep, green folder laid with the words 'WELCOME SPARTAN' plastered among them.

Shit.

"I- I can explain," I started, already forcing the tears back. I was always a cry baby when it came to my parents.

"What the fuck is this?" My dad started, already standing from his seat. I cringed, when my dad spoke, it was either about some nonsense or when he got angry. I always tried to avoid the latter. "You enrolled in this - in this Michigan college?"

"I...I got a scholarship." I said weakly, the tears already sliding down my cheeks. Why was I crying already? Didn't I already prepare for this conversation for a month?

"A scholarship?" My mom piped in as she gestured to the papers. "Addison, this is over two thousand miles away. We can't afford this. What did you do?"

I breathed in, "It's a full ride scholarship. It covers tuition and boarding - of course as long as I keep my grades up and work on-campus for -"

"How are you going to get there?" My dad yelled again and I jumped at the outburst.

"I was going to buy a plane ticket."

"With what money?"

"I saved," I muttered.

"You saved?" My mom said with a raise of her voice, "You don't even have a job, Addison. You're saving money behind our backs? What type of disrespectful child are you? I thought we raised you better than that."

I cried, "I won't use any of our money. They have a good Education program there, and I thought if I just applied to the scholarship, I would have a chance financially-"

My mom interrupted, "Okay, so - so, if you saved enough money to get a plane ticket, what you were going to go to college with just a suitcase?" I didn't think that...

"Then what, you'd go across the country with a suitcase full of things - things we bought for you. Raised you with, then you were just going to stay? What about a flight back home during the holidays? Over the summer? What were you going to come to after you graduated?"