Paris! With a smile, I pin the postcard I received yesterday to my corkboard. The picture collage is almost perfect. Took me the better part of a year. Meeting people online is one thing but convincing them to spend money—even if only for a postcard and stamp—takes some effort. Though considering I now have over thirty exotic foreign destinations on my board, I shouldn't complain.

My Skype blares and Felipe's picture flashes across the screen with the video call alert. My heart skips a few beats. I rush over to the laptop on my desk and with an eager hand, move the cursor toward the small telephone icon of the screen. In my excitement, I almost misclick.

Felipe's face fills the screen. His wide smile drives heat to my cheeks. "Hey gorgeous. How is your day?"

"Fine. How 'bout yours?" I lower myself onto the chair, biting my lip with excitement. The chats with him are the highlight of my days.

"Not so good. My cousin bullied me again." A sparkle ignites in his eyes; as usual, he's only joking.

I play along and give him my best sad face. "What did Miguel do this time? "

"He called me a lovesick puppy 'cause all I ever do is talk about you."

My lips curl to a smile as bright as the sun outside. Butterflies twirl like crazy in my stomach. I still can't believe my luck. When I first sent him my picture before hooking up on Skype, I was sure he'd break it off, but we still talk or message at least once a day. He's so amazing.

His face freezes on the screen.

Sugar, not again.

Why can't the internet in his country be better? Lately, this happens during every single call. As I wait for the signal to reconnect, I caress his gorgeous face on the screen with my thumb. The warmth of his dark brown eyes shines back at me, reflecting his adorable smile. Two dimples complete the image of perfection.

The call disconnects, and a message pops up moments later. Sorry, connection is terrible today.

I peck away at the keyboard. It's fine. And sorry I got you into trouble with Miguel.

His response appears within seconds; he is such a fast typer. Don't worry, you're worth it.

That makes me grin like an idiot again.

More words appear in the message box. Hey, have you thought some more about my idea?

I roll my eyes. Not again. Visiting him is simply not possible, even if I would give my left arm to make it happen. I told you my parents won't allow it.

But you're 18 and don't need their permission.

If it were that easy. Since I still live under their roof, they feel they are entitled to control my life. My gaze lingers on the postcards stuck to the corkboard and I snort with bitterness. In a moment of total insanity, I had asked my parents the day after my high school graduation if I could take a gap year and plan a trip around the world. Needless to say, it didn't go well.

My father laughed. "You'll end up on the wrong plane."

Of course he meant it as a joke, but the words still stung. Sad part was, he was probably right. I'm terrible with directions.

My mother didn't make it any better. "That idea is preposterous. Besides, traveling alone is way too dangerous. Terrible things could happen to you. And how are you going to pay for it? You should think about college and forget those pipe dreams."

Since then, I've flown under the radar. My low SAT scores and my meager grade point average only got me into the local community college; for my parents, I'm already a wasted life in the making.

My gaze flicks back to the computer screen. Why don't you come here?

Impossible to get a visa.

I didn't even think of that.

And if you're worried about money, I'm happy to make the arrangements for the flight. My job pays well, so money isn't an issue.

Oh, it's so tempting. Even a two-week trip would be absolutely amazing. If only my parents were on board with this . . .

On cue, my mom's voice drifts up from downstairs. "Stacy, I need your help."

I sigh. "I'll be right there, Mom."

"No, now! You promised you'd empty the dishwasher."

Why does she always have to nag? For once, my brother could help. Have to go.

Let's shoot for another call later, okay? I'll be at my uncle's house and the internet will be better.

Sure, but I'll probably won't be on until tonight. I have to help my mom with some chores today.

Plus I have to watch my two-hour daily limit designed by my father to prevent me from turning into a screen addict. I click on a few random sites I used to frequent in the past to check if he loosened any of his parental controls, but they are still blocked. Mature content—a source of corruption of my delicate mind. I snort. His protectiveness is not only suffocating but annoying.

I stare again at the postcards on the wall. Maybe visiting Felipe would be good for me and show my parents that I'm capable of making my own decisions. They could finally start treating me like an adult.

"Stacy, I want you downstairs now!" My mother's voice is shrill; she is close to one of her conniptions.

With a drawn-out sigh, I close the laptop. Hopping down the steps, two at a time, I join my mother in the kitchen. The dishwasher door is already open and I fidget with the flatware. Bored, I clank the knives and forks into the drawer one by one until a disapproving frown from my mother stops me. "Do you have to make such a ruckus?"

"Sorry." I toss the remaining pieces into their proper spaces in one go.

"And when you're done, can you set the table for breakfast?"

"Sure, Mom."

When she starts on the pancakes, my stomach growls, the scent competing with the freshly brewed coffee. Eventually, my sister, Juliet, joins us and gives me a hand. She carries with her a burst of energy, and she and my mom are chatting away in no time. I make a face no one notices; as usual, I'm left out of their conversation.

Mom beams at her with the fondest smile; a smile I've never seen on her face when she talks to me. "What are your plans for today, Juliet?"

A sparkle of excitement glows in my sister's eyes. Like my mother's, they hold different specks of colors and look interesting. My dark brown eyes are just dull. "We are meeting this morning about the mission trip to Angola. I really can't wait to go."

I grimace. Lucky her was chosen as one of the youth leaders to help out in a school over there. Four weeks away from Carmel, Indiana, and college credit on top of that.

"You see, Stacy, you could have those types of opportunities if you just applied yourself with the church. Pastor Colin is always looking for help with the smaller kids, especially in the summer. And when Juliet was your age, she always volunteered wherever she could. Now all this hard work is paying off. Besides, serving the Lord is most rewarding."

I'm tempted to roll my eyes at her. She's always lecturing me about the same things. "I know, Mom."

"And I bet you still haven't decided on a major yet. Instead of collecting postcards, you should really do some research on what you want to do with your life. Class enrollment at the community college starts soon and takes planning if you want to get the right classes and professors."

"You already told me this, Mom."

"Then which classes are you going to take?"

"I thought I could maybe do something with languages."

"To become a teacher?"

"Not necessarily that, but something with travel."

The disapproval drips from my mother's pursed lips. "Your aspirations are awfully vague. You need to choose something solid, like Early Childhood Development."

Of course she'd suggest I pick the same major as my sister. For my mom, working with children is the only suitable type of job. What she doesn't get is that little kids scare me. The ones in our church are okay, but the few neighbor kids I babysat were absolute horrors. No respect for anyone, not even their parents. I couldn't handle kids like that.

And if I were a boy, we wouldn't even have this conversation. I could join the military, something I've secretly dreamed about since I was little, until I figure out what I want to do without the constant pressure. Now that would be so cool. Starting out somewhere fresh, where everyone is the same and no one judges me or compares me to my brother or sister. I could just be myself. My shoulders sag. The military is just one of those pipe dreams; my parents would never allow me to go. Fighting with a weapon is not only against the word of the Scripture but totally unsuitable for a girl.

"Stacy, did you hear what I said?"

"No, Mom, sorry." My smile is contrite as I refocus on her.

"I asked if you are still going to apply for that job at the daycare?"

"I'm not sure."

"You really should. That will give you something to do, plus you'd earn some money. Books for college are expensive, and since you aren't getting much financial aid, it would help pay for some of the things you need."

My internal groan never makes it to the surface. "I'll think about it."

Luckily, my mother's nitpicking is cut short when my brother, Owen, runs into the kitchen, followed by my father. My dad kisses my mom before spinning her around in some goofy dance move, laughing. When they kiss each other again, my brother makes a gagging motion with his finger, but I just smile. I love seeing my parents so happy.

The fruit salad my mother takes out of the fridge completes the breakfast setup, and soon, we are seated around the table, joining hands while my dad says grace. Then we dig in. Breakfast has always been a big deal in my family and I enjoy spending this time together. It's a nice routine to start the day.

I scoop fruit salad on my plate, resisting the temptation to finagle one of the pancakes. With a silent sigh, my gaze rests on the tiny waist of my sister. Not once has she struggled with her weight, having been blessed with the delicate frame of my mom, while I'm more on the robust side. Those pounds around my midsection stick no matter what; even with exercise, I've never managed to get a thigh gap.

"Do you want to catch a ride with me downtown, Stacy?"

I nod at Juliet. Why not? I could spend some time at the internet café in the mall or even check to see if they need help in one of the stores. Though my mother wouldn't approve if I took a job as a salesclerk, it would get me some much-needed cash and would be so much better than the daycare.

The ride in Juliet's car turns into a heart-to-heart when she begins to drill me as soon as I fasten the seatbelt. "What's the matter, Stacy? You seem really upset."

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Come on. I can tell something is bothering you."

"It's just that Mom is nagging me all the time. Nothing I do is ever good enough for her."

"Believe it or not, I used to feel the same way."

I snort. "You? That's a joke, right?"

"Mom and Dad can be smothering, I totally get that. When you're eighteen, all those rules and expectations can drive you nuts, but all in all, they aren't that bad. They're just worried since you're not making much of an effort lately."

"I know and I'm trying. It's just . . ." When a lump clogs my throat, my words trail off.

"What is it? You know you can tell me anything."

"I'm not sure if Mom and Dad even love me. I'm such a failure to them."

"Of course they love you. They just don't understand why you don't show some initiative when it comes to stuff around college and finding a job."

"Then what should I do?"

"Mom's heart is really set on that daycare job, so why don't you at least give that a try? In a couple of months, you'll start college and then you can find a different part-time job on campus. See where that takes you. I'm sure by Christmas, you'll have it all figured out."

My smile is timid. Why can't I have her confidence just once? Everything she does comes so easily to her. At my age, she'd had her first boyfriend while I haven't even kissed a guy. "I guess that doesn't sound so bad."

"Like I said, just give it a try."

Maybe that would get my mom off my case. Lately, she's killing me with her high expectations and her incredible need to satisfy our family's public image.

Motivated by Juliet's pep talk, I'm determined to return home with a job in hand. Since I'm still a bit iffy about the daycare and determined to prove my mother wrong, I roam through the mall in search of a "Help Wanted" sign. At one of the teen fashion shops, I finally hit pay dirt. After filling out the required application form, the manager takes me to an office in the back.

"So, Stacy, do you have any experience in retail?"

"No, but I'm really motivated to learn and could work any shift you need. I just finished high school and will start Hamilton Community College in the fall. Even during the school year, I'd be willing to work part-time and would be flexible around my classes."

"That's good to hear. Tell me a little bit about your fashion taste."

"My fashion taste?"

"Yeah. What's your favorite label and what kind of clothes do you like to wear?"

I gaze down at my simple jeans and T-shirt.

"Well . . ."

"Have you ever bought from us before?"

My mom usually picks out my clothes when she hunts for end-of-season bargains twice a year for the whole family. "In my school, we wore uniforms, so I didn't really have a need for a lot of clothes."

Her brows quirk. "Which school did you go to?"

"St. Martin's. It's a Christian charter school for girls."

"I'm familiar with it." As she rises, the manager smiles, her eyes signaling me to do the same. "Sorry, but I'm afraid I'm looking for someone with a little bit more experience."

As I shake her outstretched hand, disappointment stabs at my already fragile self-confidence. "Thanks for your time."

She can't get me out of the shop fast enough, her face twisted as if this was nothing but a wasted effort. I make my way to the internet café with slumped shoulders. Scraping together enough coins for an hour of online time bleeds me dry. Except for my graduation money I'm saving for emergencies, I'm officially broke.

I log into my Wattpad account and private message a few of my friends. Only Jessica from New Hampshire is online. She is one of the more popular authors on the site where users can post their own books, and I'm unsure why she even bothers with me since I only published a few poems. Granted, the ones about chastity led to some heated discussions and got my writing some exposure, which was exciting. Five of my readers ended up sending me postcards—one of the few accomplishments in my life.

Felipe still wants me to visit. He even offered to pay for the flight.

Hell yeah. I would do it.

My parents would be really mad.

So? My parents are constantly pissed at me. Comes with the territory.

My cheeks prickle with heat. Even though I've been having chats with people across the globe online, their language is disturbing at times. All that swearing and shortening of sentences. Often, I don't understand a word but would never ask. That would make me look dumb. One girl even uses the F-bomb in every other sentence. Totally inappropriate.

And you don't think it's too dangerous? Hopefully, she won't confirm my mother's claim that all guys online are serial rapists or pedophiles.

Nah. My cousin met her boyfriend online and they're getting married next month. You've chatted and face-timed with Felipe for over a year and know he's not some creep. I'd go for it.

Since Jessica is online almost 24/7, she is the expert. Besides, I read that internet dating is common, and some of my online friends have even met each other face to face. The consensus is always the same; they had a great time together.

My hour is almost up and I'm not sure when I'll be online again. My dad blocked my Wattpad account.

Why???

He found out that some of the stories have sex and swearing. He doesn't want me to read them.

That's too bad. I'll miss you.

I'll try to keep you posted. Have to run now.

My chat with Jessica has cheered me up. On my way home, I stop at the public library and check out Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen again. Reading will give me something to do before I have the internet back tonight. For a while, I sit on a bench in the park until the heat becomes unbearable. The stale air glimmers in front of my eyes as I stroll along the small path running by the park's pond, and only the shielding branches of the trees prevent the sun from beating down on me mercilessly. In Malaguay, Felipe's home, it's currently winter, though so close to the equator, the weather hardly changes all year.

Fresh sadness overcomes me. All in all, I'm a total failure. My sister has it all, a good student, loved by everyone in our church, my parents' pride and joy. Though my brother Owen can be annoying, he's also super smart and great at building stuff. He's only eight but knows that he wants to be an engineer like my dad. I'm the odd one in my family. Totally useless. If I didn't look exactly like my father, I could even be adopted.

A few tears fall, but I wipe them away.

Don't act like a freaking drama queen.

When I notice my dad's car in the driveway, my steps slow. Why is he still here? He should have left for work hours ago.

Opening the front door, I wrinkle my forehead at my parent's loud voices drifting from the living room.

"I can't believe you'd do this to us!" Mom's screech is shrill and filled with hurt.

"You need to calm down, Colette."

"Calm down? Are you fucking kidding me?"

My jaw drops. My mother has never sworn in her life, not even those soft, socially acceptable curses.

Mom's muffled cry floats through a crack in the living room door. "I mean, it's right here, in black and white. This court summons clearly states that this is your child."

I frown. What's going on? Tiptoeing closer, I peek inside the room. My mother's face is streaked with tears and Dad looks as if he's about to hurl.

"It's a mistake, I swear." He runs his fingers through his hair, and somehow, they get stuck.

"Are you claiming Lauren is lying?"

"Yes, no. She might be."

"Which is it, Paul?"

My dad's strong body deflates like a popped balloon. "I don't know."

"Well, until you figure this out, I want you to leave."

"But Colette—"

"OUT! NOW!"

Somehow, I must've gotten off at the wrong station. Who are these people? My parents never fight, and the idea of my mother kicking my father out is so outrageous, I don't even have words to describe it.

"But where I'm supposed to go? Please, don't do this. Think of the kids—"

"Don't you dare bring our kids into this." My mom's words slur together through her tears. "You've destroyed this family."

The desperation in her voice makes me cringe. I want to hug her but stop myself at the last moment. I shouldn't be spying on them. Before I can retreat, my mom spots me.

"Stacy, you're home."

"Yes, sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop." Tentatively, I step into the room and give my father a crooked smile.

"It's fine. You would've found out anyhow."

Curiosity gets the better of me. "What's going on?"

Fresh tears roll down my mother's cheek. "Your father had an affair with Lauren Weller. The court papers arrived this morning. They have a child together."

My knees wobble and I hold on to the backrest of the couch. This whole scenario is surreal. Lauren was in my class and got pregnant our senior year. The whole congregation had gossiped about it, and when the baby was born a few weeks ago, most members suggested she should give it up for adoption. No way my dad could be the father of this child. He's an elder of our church and follows the Ten Commandments to a T. He would never cheat on my mom.

"Please tell me it's not true, Dad." My voice trembles. Something like this happens to other families but not ours. Is this a big prank for some hidden-camera TV show?

Tears fill his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

A wail escapes my mother's mouth and she storms out, slamming the door behind her.

In that moment, my world crumbles. All the respect—the love for him—is coming apart at the seams. Since I was a little girl, I have placed him on a pedestal and have wanted to marry a man just like him. Now, my hero is no better than scum in a gutter. I can never forgive him for destroying our family.

Being around him is making me sick, and I escape from the room, searching for my mom. She needs me now. I comb through the house, but when I glance outside, her car is no longer in the driveway. She must have left without even talking to me.

Utterly confused, I head to my room.

Felipe.

He's my only friend in the world and will give me advice. Hopefully, I can get him on Skype through my phone since the internet is locked down for a few more hours, even if this will eat up the rest of my prepaid credit. While I wait for him to pick up, I chew on my lip until a metallic taste stings my mouth.

What am I supposed to do?

Does this mean the end of my parents' marriage?

"Hey, what's up?"

I jump at Felipe's sudden voice floating from the receiver and turn the phone around to see his face. "Something terrible happened. I found out my dad is cheating on my mom." Saying the words aloud draws tears to my eyes.

"I'm sorry. That must be really tough."

That's the understatement of the century. "I don't know what to do."

"There's not really anything you can do. It's your parents' problem."

"It's still scary. My mom left. I don't even know if she's coming back." What if she just abandoned us?

"I think this is God's signal for you to visit me. A few weeks away will put everything in a clearer perspective and will give your parents time to figure things out. No need for you to be stuck in the middle."

I sniffle and wipe a few tears away. "But what about my brother? He's still so small and needs me."

"He has your sister. Didn't you tell me they are really close?"

True. Juliet is almost like a second mother to him. She was already thirteen when he was born and has always helped my mom take care of him.

"But I have no money."

"Don't worry. Like I said before, I can pay for everything. You need to do what's best for you. Your parents will be all right, and there's no need for you to get upset while they fight."

His soothing tone lifts some of the dread that has settled in my chest. Locking eyes with him on the screen makes the world around me disappear. My sole focus is on him. "But isn't that really selfish?"

"Sometimes, you need to be selfish in order to protect yourself. I guarantee you, if you stay, the fighting will make you sick."

I nod, wiping my face dry on my sleeve. He is right. For once, I need to put myself first. "Okay, I'll visit you. But only for two weeks. I can't leave my family for longer than that."

"I totally understand. I'm calling the airline now and will book you on the next available flight."

"Okay, call me back with the details."

"Of course, and please, try not to be too upset. In a few days, we'll be together and can talk about everything. You'll see, this trip will be good for you and make you feel better."

I hang up in a daze and drop onto my bed.

Am I really doing the right thing?

My parents will be mad if I just go, but then again, they will be busy fighting. If my friend Emily were here, I could confide in her. She always has had good advice, but she's already off to college in Chicago for her summer semester. Felipe is the only one who will listen. Hopefully, the time in Malaguay will help me figure out what to do, not only with my family but also with the rest of my life. And who knows, with Felipe in the picture, I might even have a nice time.

~~~~

© Sal Mason 2015

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