After sixteen years of living at home, studying in pyjamas and a dressing gown, living in pyjamas and a dressing gown, and immersing myself in a bubble of isolation and contented peace [almost]; the time has come for me to break out of my shell and embark on a journey of self discovery and eye-opening encounters that will shape my future life and mould the person I am destined to become. Or so my mother says.
“I actually think I would benefit from staying at home to do my A Levels.” I say casually, broaching the subject over a meal of spaghetti bolognese and lettuce leaves bravely [and wrongly] labelled ‘salad’.
My dad chokes on a mouthful of food as he struggles to reply, my mum’s hand hovers over her almost empty plate, my little brother opens his mouth wide into an ‘O’ of mushed up spaghetti strands and green shreds of leaf. Such is the entertainment in the Kravitz household!
“We’ve already discussed this.”
“And now we are discussing it again. I fully believe that a subject should be completely and emphatically ‘discussed’ before being abandoned as the wrong conclusion could therefore be drawn and-”
“Rhea”
I pause my monologue in time to catch a definite Look passing between my parents.
“I like it at home! I work better at home! I can concentrate better if I’m alone!”
“Satisfied with the amount of exclamation marks in that sentence yet?”
“Exclamation marks are an imperative part of any conversation.”
I raise one eyebrow in defiance at my dad, safe in the knowledge that he cannot reply in the same way. I know very few people who have such a ‘distinguished’ talent [I hardly know any people period, but I’d rather not dwell on that point too much] so I like to make use of it when I know it cannot be challenged. In my opinion, eyebrow raising is the perfect way to end an unwanted conversation, and not, as my grandma never fails to tell me every time she comes to visit: a mark of disrespect and the unattractive quality of a stubborn mind. I admit; I may be stubborn. But I am stubborn is a positive way. Who wants to be labelled that one person who follows another’s actions blindly, like a sheep, too afraid to step out of the box and stand by their own opinions?
“You’ve already picked your college.”
I toy half-heartedly with a clump of mince, avoiding my parent’s laser-like gaze.
“I haven’t actually, I’m still undecided. I’m leaning towards ‘home-educated college’ right now actually...”
“Home-educated college...”
“Indeed.”
The look on my mother’s face resembles a scrunched up piece of tissue paper, so in an attempt to smooth out the creases I placate her with:
“Don’t worry, I’ll stay in my room all day, you can just pretend I’m not there and actually went to college.”
Oh. I think I smoothed too hard. I may have just ripped a bit.
“No, Rhea, no.”
“But-”-
“I’m proud of the fact that you achieved such high grades at home and that you were an easy student to work with-”
“-but I still have to go to college because I need to ‘grow into my personality and create bonds between people and live and experience the outside world’?”
“Yes”
“And you won’t change your mind?”
“No, so you’d better decide where you want to go, I can’t believe you haven’t chosen yet, you know you have to send out your acceptance within the next week!”
