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ZEPHYR BANKS
I really love this place, I think as I drive aimlessly, looking for a parking space. My phone rings, cutting through the Camila Cabello song I’ve been listening to repeatedly.
“Hey, Zephyr. Where are you?” My mom’s voice comes through the speakers. My mother, Stacy, is the world’s biggest Madonna fan, hence the name Zephyr Sky, from Madonna’s song Ray Of Light.
“Hi, Mom, I’m spending the night in,” I begin, pausing to see where the hell I’m at. “Pearl Springs, Colorado. I’ll let you know when I find a hotel.”
“Okay, baby girl. You know you don’t have to leave home just because you’re eighteen now. I mean it, Zephyr.”
“I know, Mom, but I’ve been out of school for three years now. I’ve mooched off of you and Dad long enough. Love you, call you later,” I say before hanging up. I don’t wait to hear her reply. She always says the same thing, but then again, so do I. I’ve been saying the same things for a while now, and it was high time I did something about it.
No one ever tells you that being smart isn’t enough. No one ever says it is possible to be so poor that even full-tuition scholarships aren’t enough to make your dreams come true. I was smart enough to graduate high school at fifteen, three years ago, but I could not make my dreams come true. Growing up in Cheyenne, Wyoming, I never wanted for anything, but outside the state, shit’s expensive, and I had no idea. Why don’t they teach you that in high school? Of course, they teach you how to drive, but not how to do taxes or balance a checkbook. I guess they used to teach that but stopped for whatever reason. My parents shielded me from their money struggles; the second I graduated, I figured it out. We had clothes on our backs, food in our bellies, and a roof over our head, but there wasn’t ten thousand dollars a semester lying around.
It just sucks that I did everything I was supposed to do, sooner than I had to, but it didn’t matter. I was accepted to a four-year university in England, the only college I applied to because I knew what I wanted or, more precisely, what I didn’t want. In the end, I couldn’t come up with the money for my student visa or room and board, and I wasn’t about to ask my parents for that kind of money. I could have applied to other universities or tried harder for a full ride. Still, the reality check of that situation made it that much easier to realize that the dreams I had of going to England and making something of myself were done. I had to get out of Cheyenne, though. Eventually, I was being suffocated by lack of funds despite working for three years doing any and everything I could get my hands on. Fast food, fine dining, a horse ranch mucking stalls, busy work at the sheriff’s office. I even worked at the Youth Volunteer Fire Department of Laramie County, where I was trained to work in the office. Anything to make money or keep busy. At first, I was upset, but I got over it once I started working. If I had gone to school, I never would have learned all I did these last three years. I think I can do pretty much anything now. I am a firm believer that things happen for a reason; I just don’t know what this one was yet.
I went to Texas to visit my great aunt, Gert, when I left home. While I was there, I applied for several jobs —but I wasn’t qualified for any of them. I’ve worked my ass off for the last three years, all the while finishing an associate’s degree in record time. I have a pretty useless degree in Hospitality Management. At least it’s useless in Cheyenne. Not a single restaurant, hotel, or bar was hiring someone my age. I get it, but it sucks being punished for excelling. I could have spent four years making friends, going to dances, and being a reckless teenager, but that wasn’t for me. I don’t really get along with girls my age, and boys never paid me any attention. So, I hyper-focused on school and finished early.