foreign feelings :) {Completed}

o n e: meant to be?

o n e: meant to be? 

-

Isabella's POV

As I lightly headbang and sing every lyric to 'Taxi Cab' by Twenty One Pilots, I try my best to keep the butterflies to a minimum. I listened to all of my favorite 80's songs. All of my favorite 90's hits, I listened to Panic! at the Disco, I'm listening to my boys right now, and I even listened to the Beatles. Out of all that music, I'm still freaking out.

My Ma drives in front of me, guiding me to the last stop on this forty-five-hour trip. We still have three hours until we're in the big city.

I decided to call my Mama to see if she could maybe calm me down. I racked my brain to remember her cell so I could make sure I remembered it just in case I ever lost my phone. "480-456-8388," I said over and over. I finally called her.

"M-Mama. I'm doing everything you said and I'm still very nervous and my stomach is going crazy." I say nervously. I hear her sigh on the other end. "Bebé. Está bien. Sólo respira." I listen to my Ma's calming voice and breathe. In through my nose and out through my mouth. Slowly my fingers and hands start to tremble less.

"Baby. You're never like this. You're bold, strong, confident. You're everything I'm not and this is how I know you're going to be fine. Don't let the ridiculous things your Hermano told you about college mess with your mind. You've got this." She says, easing my mind, even though in reality I'm not confident, nor bold.

"Gracias Mama," I say, letting out a shaky breath. "De nada bebé." My Ma replies. "I'll call you when we get there. Just blast your music and use the breathing techniques. Te Amo." "Te Amo." Then I hang up. I turned the volume back up and just tried to relax. 

Today was the first day of college. Well moving in day. I don't know if it counts as the first day or not. Mama and I are originally from Dos Palos, California. Crime rates are high, employment is low, wages are low, and there isn't much fun you can have on a Friday night. I went to the best high school my Mama could find. I graduated with a GPA of 4.0. I had many jobs to pay for my AP classes, but it paid off because I got a scholarship to the best college in New York. Columbia University.

A lot of kids get in with their parent's money. Few get in for smarts. The acceptance rate is 6.6%. And if you didn't know, that's very low. My Mama is beyond proud of me. My Abuela is also pretty proud of me. I'm the first woman in the family to go to such a good college. My relatives just went to small colleges and only got their associates degree. But not me. I was determined to get my masters degree. Bachelors at the very least. That's also why they're so proud of me. They're proud of my determination. I want to become a doctor. I love my Mama and Abuela very much but, when it comes to their income and jobs, I don't want my future to be like theirs. I want my own car, and own house, somewhere nice. Somewhere where I can raise a family in peace, where my husband, nor kids are in danger. As I was thinking to myself for the last two and a half hours as I suspected, I'm interrupted by a call.

"Hola Mamá, ¿qué pasa?" I ask. She lets out an excited squeal. My Ma may have been thirty-four but I swear she was a child at heart. Yeah, my Ma had me at fifteen, but it never changed my perspective of her. Only Abuela and I know the true story. Everyone else just judges. Sometimes I don't mind how young she is because people say we look like sisters and I love it. Her voice broke me out of my thoughts. "We're here bebé," Instead of an excited squeal, I let out a low grunt that was not supposed to be heard by my Mama.

"I thought you were excited to go to college?" I feel my stomach twist in knots. "Uh. I am. I'm ready for a good future. It's just... uh. I don't want to leave you. I don't exactly want to be on my own for four years either. But I guess you can call it excited." I mumble, with the tiniest edge to my voice.