5"I'm sorry, but that's all I can do for you. Make up your mind by this Friday and come talk to me."

I twitched awkwardly in my chair, hopefully hiding my irritation at these words. I was with my mom, she was trying to convince that I needed to come with her to a marriage interview. This was common in Kenya, where my parents are from, when a girl decided she had finished her education. But I was only two years into college and refused to stop and get married, so she keeps trying to convince me. My mom turns around and frowns at me, this is usually when she asks my dad to try talking but he was sitting quietly in his chair. He didn't speak much anyway but when she looked in his direction he waved his hand in front of his face. That was Kenyan hand sign for "No way". 

"Oye, you two are so alike. I can't believe how stubborn my family can be. I just want to see Zyaire happily married before I get old."

"Amai, you're not even forty years old. I don't plan on leaving college for a man."

My dad apparently felt it necessary to speak, he sat up and looked at me. Sometimes, I feel like his eyes burn right through you. They can see everything, as if he were a God or prophet. The silence settled into us and he waited until my mom sat down before he spoke. 

"Zyaire... can you explain what it is you want?"

"What?"

"You said that you wouldn't leave college for a man. Are you saying other things are worth leaving for men, or that other things are worth leaving college for?"

The man was impeccable with his timing of the question, I sat there agitated by the fact that I wasn't sure how to answer. He continued to stare with his usually emotionless gaze. I felt uncomfortable, twitching nervously as he questioned me again. This time I noticed something different.

"Why are you so quiet? I won't accept your opinion on the matter if you hesitate."

"I'm saying that I wont leave college until I have accomplished what I set out to do. It took years of work to earn those scholarships, I can't take that for granted becuase these oppurtunities don't come for everyone." 

He steadied his gaze on my mom, "Why do you think she feels this way Zolani? I believe she is majoring in criminal investigation?"

Startled by her name being called so suddenly, she twitched slightly before returning to her arrogant demeanor. "She studies forensic science because she always liked those odd science projects and disecting things. Everything I hated to do as a nurse, she wants to do as a cop."

"So why do you oppose her? Are you looking at her best interests or your own?"

My dad's second tackle cloaked the room in a painfully irritating silence. "Well... I thought Zyaire loved music and would major in fine arts.."

"That is my minor study, I can love music and still be realistic. What are the odds that I become famous? I want security and to make people feel secure, I have dreams riding on my education."

They sat in another deep silence for what felt like hours. My parents had always been this way, nitpicking at my opinions and beliefs, while supporting me at a distance. I wanted it to stay that way, but things were changing and so was my family. I stood up and turned to the door, but my arm was yanked from behind me. Of course, it was my mother. She looked at her husband, who nodded, and turned back to me with a sad smile.

"You are going to hate me... when you find out what I've done..."

I twisted my arm out of her grip and leaned against the door, "What did you do this time?" The woman had never cared much about what I thought, she was motivated by her own ambition, not the interests of others. I could hate her but I haven't yet, so what could she possibly have done?

"You... are no longer a student at the university. I met someone who has friends in the industry.... I showed her some of your music and she wants to meet you this Friday."

So she was disguising an interview as a marriage contract, not a smart move considering I've refused every suggestion of hers. It didn't surprise me in the least that this woman would completely destroy my work for her own benefit. I see my dad twist his face into a frown, the only expression he shows is irritation when it comes to me, but this was aimed at my mother. "Are you going to tell her the whole truth or not?"

She twitches again, "I spoke to her about the friend, she told me would gladly allow you to stay with him... if you wanted. I asked if he was single... but she wouldn't answer that so I'm not setting you up or anything..."

"You ruined my chance to make use of the scholarships I worked so hard to get and suddenly decide to send me off with random strangers. I expected you would keep pursuing the marriage thing, but I hadn't imagined you would ruin everything."

She didn't speak, her hand reached out to me with an envelope. It was covered in odd writing that I recognized as Korean. "I know you love Korean music and culture, so I looked all over to make sure it what you liked. I'm really not so bad, I want to see you happy. And I know you love music, so why waste your talents by settling for a career you wouldn't love as much?"

I take the envelope and leave. That woman was unbelievably difficult to understand recently, but I couldn't let her sway my resolve. I can't abandon my current life without knowing who I'm trusting my future to. The envelope fluttered in my hands as I walk past the bus stop, the writing was unnecessarily large but still legible. I sit on a bench while waiting for the fifth bus and start picking at the edges. It says "With your best interest" and ironically, I couldn't tell myself not to open it. As my fingers slide across the top and tear it open, a small piece of paper falls out. I pull the letter from the envelope and read it. But after seeing the signature I have to read the entire letter again. I wasn't losing my mind, it was signed by Lydia Paek. 

I look at the small piece of paper, which turns out to be her picture. She was a beautiful Korean lady, with talent that was all the more stunning. My bus pulls in but I sit transfixed on the letter I had recieved. How the hell did my mom meet Lydia Paek? Why would she be in Michigan of all places? 

"Señorita

, don't you usually ride the fifth bus?" The speaker is Julio, a student from Guatemala. He points to the bus pulling off and smiles apologetically. Normally, I would snap at him for telling me after the bus left. But he was always nice when we spoke so I waved it off and try to calm down. He stares fixated at my hands holding the letter, "Did you have bad news? I have probably upset you even more now..." 

I wave the papers around like a fan, both to seem calm and to cool off from the sudden shock. "I'm okay, can't say if it's good news or bad news."

He smiles and pats me on the head, I hate when people do that, and lightly yanks at one of my braids. He was so touchy. The next bus pulled in and I managed to walk only six blocks to my apartment. I throw everything on the floor and flop onto the couch. I told myself that today was a dream, unnecessary stress, and slowly closed my eyes.

Of course, then my phone rang.