Hopefully, tonight will help me forget about everything. Because the second tomorrow arrives, I’m going to have to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do for the rest of my life now that a future in finance is no longer an option.
“To getting fucked up!”Alia, one of my friends, yells over the loud music playing from the live band on stage. “May your blackout be wild and your hangover mild.”
The sound of clinking shot glasses is followed by the four of us tossing them back. The tequila burns on the way down, making my face pucker from the after-affects. Thankfully, it doesn’t last long. The buzz is already softening the edges of my misery, letting my shoulders finally slump from where they’ve been pinched up close to my ears since the meeting with my advisor.
“So, Ivy.”
I turn to Declan, who’s already collecting our glasses to stack into a neat little tower. He’s always been like that, neat and organized. It’s a trait I envy more than anything.
“What are you going to do now that you might not finish school?”
A long sigh escapes me in response.
Honestly, I’m trying not to think about it because when I do, a pit grows in my stomach and twists so hard that it makes throwing up seem merciful. There weren’t many options when I first left home three years ago and that’s been true ever since.
I’m not delusional enough to believe I’m above working minimum wage jobs for a little while. A job is a job and as long as it pays enough to support me, why not? That had been the exact reason behind getting the part-time job I have now in order to afford rent and groceries while I finish out my degree.
However, this time in my life was only supposed to be a temporary side note, a stepping stone toward a better future that my degree in finance would be able to fulfill once I walked across that stage and shook my school dean’s hand.
I’ve never had lofty goals for myself in terms of making obscene amounts of money in order to live some lavish lifestyle, nor did I yearn for something other than a standard, middle-class life.
I figured it wasn’t asking too much from the universe to graduate with an associate’s, get an entry-level job somewhere with room to grow, and then maybe work my way through a bachelor’s while climbing the corporate ladder to financial freedom.
Simple. Easy. Drama-free.
But now this… thismessof a situation that I’ve found myself in.
School has never been mything, per se, but I did well enough to pass my classes in high school and graduate with a regular diploma to be able to get placed into a pretty good school. At the time, I knew to buckle down and take my studies seriously when I got into university since squandering the one attempt I’d been given would be downright stupid and also a waste of money.
In hindsight, I guess I should’ve known this would be the outcome. My luck has never been something I could rely on. If anything, it’s gotten me into more troubling situations than what I’ve bargained for.
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Ivy. Plenty of people take longer to finish school. It’s okay.” Nina leans over, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me against her side to squeeze me briefly.
“Yeah. Except they usually, you know,finish.” I sigh. “My counselor gave me the impression that it was a lost cause, so I’m taking the loss and giving up before I waste more money.”
“Ugh, who cares!” Alia replies, turning in her seat to wave at one of the bartenders behind the bar and then gesturing to our table for another round of shots. As soon as she turns back around, she shoots me a wink. “Degrees are overrated, anyway. My cousin didn’t even graduate high school and is now makingbankdetailing cars out of his garage. You should try doing something like that!”
“Or you can monetize a hobby,” Declan suggests.
Alia snaps at him, pointing animatedly. “Yes, now you’re cooking.”
“Sure. I’ll start knitting plant holders to sell them on Etsy,” I say, my tone dry.
“See? There you go.” Alia grins.
I hold back the urge to roll my eyes.
I love my friends, but sometimes, they can be a bit delusional—Alia and Nina, at least. Usually, Declan is our voice of reason but tonight, it seems like he’s keeping his mouth shut, probably because the inevitable bickering with Alia isn’t worth it.
She has a good heart. She always does, but there are times when her outlook on life skews from reality.
This is one of those times.
Selling knitted items on Etsy to cover rent and make an actual living… Who in their right mind can afford taking a pay cut forthat long until their business can pick up traction? Not me andabsolutelynot, in my landlord’s opinion.
I sigh.
“Come on, guys. Let’s forget all this doom and gloom talk and dance with some hot guys!” Nina hops off her stool, looping her arm around mine. “Let’s go! Declan, watch our table.”
