So it was safe to say that my mum hadn't found out about me going to New York with Jess. It's been a few weeks since then and it was full of Jess and I sneaking around and trying not to get caught.

Usually with the help of Michel. When Jess and Michel meet it was like one big bowl of human hatred. Sometimes they would even greet each other by saying the number of people that had gotten on their nerves and/or wanted to kill that day. Michel currently had the highest rate of eight. Most of the time it was Taylor or Kirk on that list.

In other words, I was safe, for now. It was only a matter of time before my mum found out so I had to make sure to tell her soon. But soon is not today. Today was the day that I had gotten all my college application forms. Needless to say the two of us had enough stuff to worry about today.

"Alright, first question," my mum began from her seat at the kitchen table. According to her, seven o'clock at night was too late to get started on the forms but I just couldn't wait any longer. "Personal information, full name and nickname."

I sip at the half empty soda can in my hand before answering her. "The nickname would be Cassie."

My mum glanced over at me teasingly with the stack of papers in her hand. "Or CeeCee?"

My nose scrunched up at the horrible name. "No one ever called me that, and thank god for that."

She shakes her head at me. "Wrong, your grandpa called you that when you were a baby."

"Horrible choice," I comment with a slight frown. "We're not putting that down."

"But we need an accurate answer," my mum persists. "I'm afraid that if we don't answer honestly, the Yale police will knock you on the head with their batons and wrap you in their blue flags."

"I always thought blue was a good colour on me," I retorted as my mum averted my gaze.

She kept her eyes trained on the forms as she responded to me, "No, honey that was green."

I furrow my eyebrows at her. "But blue still looks good on me, right?" When she doesn't answer me I feel as if I know the answer. "Mum!" I exclaim in horror at her misleading.

"Oh, look at this question," she evades effortlessly. "Parental information, mother."

"A liar," I answer sarcastically, still bummed out that she let me believe I look good in blue.

"Breathtaking," my mum complemented herself. "Father," my mum trails off, not knowing how to respond.

I play with the now empty soda can in my hand as I answer. "A douche."

My mother, deciding not to dwell on that went on to the next question. "Personal statement?"

I peer over to see the paper. "That's the essay, the Big Bang."

"Theory?" My mum tried to finish my sentence. At my look of disapproval she went back to the paper. "You can evaluate a significant experience that had an impact on you, or you can write about a person who had a significance influence in you."

"You?" I suggest half-serious. "Or maybe the guy who gave me that free cd."

"Ah yes," my mum sighed as she remembers that fateful day in Connecticut. "The guy who got you started on AC/DC. It might send the wrong idea though."

I frown as I think of why it wouldn't be a good  idea. "The fact that I was four?"

"That's the one," my mum agrees before going on to the next question. "What activities  interest you?"

I think for a moment before answering her. "Everything, especially debate. Oh, but no sports."

My mum narrows her eyes. "I thought you were the star kid on the track team," she joked.

"I don't think anyone wants a replay of the incident of '99," I retort as she nods in agreement. 

"Fair point," she looks back toward the paper. "So we'll just circle everything but no sports."

"We can circle baseball," I suggest as I recount the time my grandfather thought me the sport. "I'm not half bad at that."

She just hums in response. "They need a picture," she says. "How about the one of us and the grinch from last Christmas."

"I don't think Yale will accept people who don't have the 'Christmas Spirit,'" I retort as I make air quotes around the word.

"They are an ivy legue school," she tells me in all seriousness. "They don't give students time for Christmas."

"Well then I'll see you every two years," I remark as I grab the rest of the papers from her. "Is this everything?"

My mother looks around the kitchen to see if she can find any discarded forms. "We have Yale, Princeton, NYU, Columbia, and UPenn."

"What about Stanford and Cornell?" I ask as I shift through the paper in my hands.

She looks around for a moment before getting up and heading to the living room. "I think I saw it somewhere in the living room." I hear some shuffling for a while before my mum lets out a triumphant 'Aha!'

"They're here," she says, walking back into the living room with another stack of paper in her hands. "Right along with Cambridge and Oxford."

My hands stop their movement at shifting through the papers at her words. "Cambridge and Oxford?" I question accusingly as she takes a seat back at the table. "That's all the way in England, I thought we talked about this." We both knew I had no intention to go all the way to England for college. Besides, Yale was what I've been dreaming of since I could talk.

"Hear me out," my mum said slowly. Usually, it was the opposite, the mum doesn't want the kid to go halfway across the world. "Your grandparents asked me to get them."

"Mum, you know I want to go to Yale." I send her a pleading look, telling her to drop this whole thing. This completely threw off my plan to go to New York. She didn't even know about the plan yet.

"I know, but listen." She compels me. "If you don't want to go, you don't have to. Just apply and see what happens." She sends me a soft smile. "I hear London is amazing during Christmas, and living there isn't so bad. You have your grandparents."

I sigh softly as I wring out my hands in my lap. "But I don't wanna go to London, I wanna go to New York," I admitted.

My mother casts me a confused glance. "But Yale isn't in New York."

"I know," I start nervously. This wasn't how I planned to tell her about my plan but I guess it's how it's gonna be. "I wanna work in New York, I wanna live there."

My mum pulls a thoughtful expression on her face, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. "You wanna live in New York?"

"Don't make that face at me," I tell her. "You were ready to ship me off all the way to England!"

"That's different," she tells me calmly.

I look at her incredulously. "Different? Hell yeah it's different! I just wanna go to New York, which is a bus ride from here." I start trying hard not to get mad. "You were willing to let me go halfway across the world."

"Your grandparents are there, you wouldn't be alone." She tried to reason with me as she put her head in her hands.

"Please, mum," I plead. "You know I would go crazy here, I'm not like you or Lorelai or Rory. It's been what I wanted for so long."

"If it's what you wanted for so long why didn't you tell me?" She asks with a frown.

I look at her exasperatedly. "Cause I knew you'd overreact," I say. "Glad to see I was wrong," I sarcastically said, knowing that I was right.

She's silent for a moment with her head in her hands. Probably thinking over her options. Locking me up till I'm thirty is probably on that list. I may be a lot like my mum in many ways, but we had our fair share of differences. The main one, she was happy here. Don't get me wrong, I am happy here. I just don't think I'll be happy here when I'm forty and still going to town meetings.

She's fine with this life. The same routine everyday, the same people and same old boring town. I wasn't, I was completely not fine with that. Some people might say it makes me a bad person but fine by me. I needed a place where if I bumped into someone they would glare at me instead of asking how my aunt is doing. And it didn't matter if they were mean or rude, cause I would never see them again.

Somewhere where I could be woken up at three in the morning from my neighbours shitty taste in music. Where I would bang a broomstick against the wall and yell them. My mum would hate that, I know. Maybe I would too after a while, but I know that I would take it over this place any day.

When I realised my mum still hadn't said anything I began to worry. What if this was all too much for her. What if I singlehandedly drove my mother to insanity. I was all she had after all. "Mum?" I asked with concern lacing my voice.

"Is it really what you want?" She voiced out. She was probably thinking this was a phase, some young teenage thing. And maybe it was, but I knew I would hate myself if I stayed here.

"Yes," I tell her honestly. "I may be young and dumb but it's what I want."

"Okay," she finalised with a small smile toward me. "If it's what you want, I'm not gonna stop you." Her words made me think that telling her about Jess and I wouldn't be such a bad idea. But I wasn't gonna do it now, in fear of killing her with shock.

I got up from my seat and engulfed her in a tight hug. I muttered a string of 'thank you's in her ear as she hugged me back. "You're welcome," she says once we've pulled apart and I've gone back in my seat. "But you have to at least apply for Oxford and Cambridge, you don't have to go, just apply." She adds the last part at the look of protest on my face.

Deciding that it couldn't be so bad. I just had to apply, not go. I nod my head in agreement. "Yeah, alright."

"Glad we got that sorted," my mum says before turning back to the application forms. "Now, what major would you be applying in?" She reads off from the paper as we both get back to business.