"Cassie, you worked so hard to get into college. You can't just throw that away."
"Mom, you've got money. Why don't you go to school?"
I looked down at the bills in my hands. Roughly five thousand dollars.
Funny how she was always crying poor, when really she just never had money for me.
I kept the cash. I still didn't enroll.
For one thing, accounting wasn't what I wanted to study. For another, five grand wasn't going to cover four years of tuition.
And if my mother ran out of money again down the line, I'd be right back where I started, working to pay my own way.
I'd spent all of middle school and high school juggling work and classes. I was done with that life.
My plan was to work for a couple of years, save up enough so I'd never have to beg anyone for a cent, and then go back for an adult degree program on my own terms.
There was a food street right below our apartment, lined with cafés and snack shops.
I got a job making drinks at one of the cafés.
Business was good. By the time I got home, both my arms were shaking.
My mother's eyes were swollen from crying.
"Cassie..."