Chapter 1: Introduction

To say I am a golden child is a bit of an overstatement. I don’t like to think of it that way. I’m not the perfect daughter and I’m definitely not the perfect person. From a young age I learned that everything was easier if you just made it easy for yourself. When my parents needed help around the house, I helped. Not because I wanted to help, but because I knew it meant they’d give me an easier time when I wanted to do things later on. I was a pretty narcissistic little fuck in all honesty. This applies to school too. I knew that If I just studied and paid attention in class I could get away with passing pretty easily, even if I never did homework. That’s my strategy. You do a bit of work and a bit of reward will always come back. It’s always worked really well for me and even if it doesn't, my plan b is to not care. 

When you grow up in a household where something is always going wrong, any little bit of sunlight can go a long way. I knew that my parents wanted to see that they raised me as a good kid, so that’s what I showed them. Going into high school I realized that this had all paid off when they started trusting me to make my own important decisions. If I wanted to go to parties, they would let me. My mom would always ask the same three things: “Are you going to be drinking?” (Probably.) “Are there going to be boys?” (Yes.)  And lastly “You’re going to stay the night if you drink, right?” (Duh.) And for the most part, I answered honestly. My parents didn’t care what I did, so why would I lie? 

It was a mystery to me how I managed to have a seemingly perfect high school trifecta: Lenient parents, supportive friends and good grades. This didn’t mean I was popular or anything. Actually, I was the only person I knew that could be cheer captain and simultaneously get along better with the marching band kids than the jocks. I choose my friends by personality, not social status. Nevertheless, I’ve never really cared what others thought of me.

My parents told me from an early age that I was the only one in the family who they thought would ever go to college. My older brother was smart enough, but he’d passed on a scholarship to instead attend bar tending school, which he failed at miserably. My younger sister was born… slow. That’s the only explanation I was ever given. I suspect Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorder, but my parents disagree. They just don't want to face the fact that it could be their fault. She's having trouble passing the ninth grade and isn’t even expected to graduate high school. So when it came to me, my parents really wanted to see “my gift” shine. My gift being the karma-esque technique I’ve used to pass classes all my life, which wasn’t much to work with. 

When I was a sophomore in high school I started to take the college thing really seriously. I went to every school-provided college fair, saved every pamphlet that was mailed to me and even collected a binder of fliers for open houses and tours. I never went to any of the events until my senior year, but my College Binder was a good way of knowing all my options and having time to narrow down my favorites. It didn't take long before I had started selecting favorites and by the beginning of my junior year I already knew which school I wanted to go to. It wasn’t too far away from home, so I could visit, but it was far enough away that I knew I wouldn’t be seeing anyone from high school on a regular basis. I had a plan before my senior year even started. 

I have to admit that I did put in extra work those last two years of high school, just so I could get the extra reward out of it: A high GPA and a good scholarship. And it worked. I got into South Redwood University on a scholarship with two different grants, but that’s when I realized I had a bigger problem on my hands. I couldn't get a loan to pay off the rest. 

Growing up lower middle class never really phased me as a kid, but as a freshly eighteen year old adult I realized that I didn’t have anywhere to turn to if I were to need money. My family barely made it on their own and frequently lived paycheck to paycheck. My dad’s credit wasn’t great because he had resorted to using credit cards in the past when things got rough and had trouble making payments. My mom was recently diagnosed with cancer and wasn’t able to work anymore. This didn’t register with me when I had made plans to go to college. I was never really taught how real-world money worked, seeing as we never really had much to spare. 

Student loans were a nightmare the summer after my senior year. I had tried every website and used the majority of the people in my family to try to get a single $11,000 loan, and nothing worked. 

As the summer was coming to a close I realized that there was a chance I wouldn't get to go to my dream school after all. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I kind of stopped trying after a bit. My parents understood, they couldn’t do anything to help, but they were still disappointed. 

The week before move-in-day at South Redwood, I was told that I had a chance of getting a personal loan from my uncle, who had a really well paying job, and I jumped at the opportunity. 

Before I knew it I was college bound with little preparation or time to think. I had picked psychology as my major on a whim, but I was ready to put all my effort into my new career path.

I didn’t realize it at the time but college doesn’t work with luck like high school does. College is a lot more complicated than public school could ever be. I was ready to coast through those four years while getting straight A’s and having the time of my life. Not even six months later that plan changed entirely. 

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