There’s 4 of us on the sectional. Camille is upstairs, passed out on my bed, Benji is in her room on his phone being an emo teenager. My mom lays beside me on the chaise, Adrian sits beside me, and Cesar lounges at the end.
The movie, “How to be a Latin Lover ” ends.
At the ending credits:
Cesar: “So are we gonna have Lazy Sundays every week?”
Me: “It’s only once a month, sorry.”
Mom: “Why? It should be every week, Rina.”
Me: “Psh, people gotta work around here to keep the roof over our heads!”
Mom: “You just gotta get your school stuff together!”
Me: “NO MOM. I’M NOT GONNA BE A TEACHER!”
Silence at the weight of my words.
Not a single reply.
I’m not going to be a teacher. I’m going to sing. Teaching can come later. Way later. I’m going to sing.
I’m talented enough.
I’m good enough.
I’m smart enough.
I’m connected enough.
And ready or not, here I come…