I pull away from her hold. Her forehead is stuck in a perpetual wrinkle as she must be judging how I look, even though I'm convinced I look the exact same. It had barely even been two months since all of this shit went down. She's acting like she hasn't seen me in years.

"Do we really need to do this?" I ask for the sake of my sanity. Nothing they say is going to get me to change my mind.

"If by 'this,' you mean speaking to my own daughter, then yes we will be doing 'this,'" she replies sharply.

I follow her into the living room and find my dad sitting down on the couch. My mom motions for me to sit down, and I comply.

"Hi, dad, how have you been?" I ask, trying to remain calm.

"I'm good, but I've missed you," he says with kind eyes.

"I've missed you too," I say as a programmed response. I've already been a shitty child in their eyes, and I really need my passport. I'm not mean enough to say that I didn't miss them one bit. But I was mean enough to ignore their Merry Christmas and Happy New Year messages. No one should be expected to forgive that quickly.

I truly was too busy and mad at them anyways to consciously miss them. It's weird, but I almost feel like I have been missing them. I think it's more of missing the normalcy in my life. With Bawdy, most things are anything but normal. I wouldn't have it any other way, but it almost feels foreign to be interacting with them like this again.

Our disconnection is evident, but my mom refuses to address it properly. "So, you're really going through with this study abroad?" She asks skeptically.

"I'm here for my passport, aren't I?" I reply with a bit too much snark. My mother exhales loudly, holding eye contact with me an uncomfortable amount.

I break her gaze as she responds, "How can you even afford this? You're going to end up running out of money and getting stuck over there."

"He's paying for it," I reply, refusing to use Bawdy's name in this household. They know who I'm talking about.

"We always raised you to never accept money like this from others," my dad chimes in. Just when I thought he was going to be the calm one.

Before I can think of a response, my mom is quick to add, "Don't you feel embarrassed? You aren't a charity case. I'm just so worried he's going to get bored of you and leave you stranded."

My blood starts to boil. I'm trying not to yell out of fear of them burning my passport and preventing me from going. I try to start responding and catch my eyes welling with tears. I don't do well getting lectured, and my natural response has always been to cry when my parents treat me like this.

But this is the most extreme of an issue we've ever had between us. This uncharted territory is scaring me, and I want to get as far away as possible. There's no need to give my parents a heart attack over my actions, so I try to explain myself.

"He'd never do that. He won't go behind my back unlike you two."

My mom shakes her head. "Gianna, you're still so young. You just don't understand how we see it."

"If this whole thing is going to blow up, then it's my mistake to make. You're not stopping me from doing this."

My dad rubs his hands on his eyes. "Your mom is just looking out for you." Doing so in a helpful and supportive way would be the proper approach. I wonder if they were ever this hard on my sister for any decisions that she made. Probably not since she's the perfect one.

"I know what I'm doing and what I want." I'm starting to get impatient. "I really do need to get back before it gets too late. I have an early flight in the morning." I kept pushing my flight back each day with Bawdy as we awaited my passport to arrive. I'm not used to ever having refundable plane tickets that can be changed around. I'm going to feel so bougie flying first class.

"You're really sure about this?" My mom asks with doubt. How long is it going to take her before she realizes that I'm sure?

"Yes, I'm positive," I say as I stand up.

My mom looks like she's going to have a panic attack. "Well, let me know your flight details at least. I don't even know where exactly you're staying." Better for her not to know, so she can't somehow sabotage this. She grabs my passport from on the tv stand and reluctantly hands it to me.

"I'll send it to you," I mumble as I reach the door. I was raised to be way too compliant to them.

"You're not going to miss Jeanne's wedding, right? She'd be so upset if you weren't there," my dad says as he follows us towards the door. I doubt she would actually care. I'm really getting over all of these fucking family obligations, but it's ingrained inside of me that you're supposed to go to things like this no matter what. The phrase "family first" has clearly never met them.

We never argued like this in the past, but I also didn't try to step out of line too much. A line that they clearly defined and stand by without any of my input.

I sigh, "I should be able to make it." I have a couple months. You never know what can happen in between then.

We hug and say our goodbyes. I can barely speed walk fast enough to get into my car.

I open my phone to call Bawdy. The one person on this planet who truly understands and loves me unconditionally.