She nodded sympathetically, “The job market is tough right now.”
“But even if I do find one, I know it probably won’t cover the rest of my tuition.”
“How did you cover the difference Fall and Winter Quarters?”
I frowned, “My parents paid.”
“Aren’t they going to help pay for Spring?”
I held my palms up in frustration. “It’s complicated, but…no.”
Compassion knitted Sheri’s brows, “I’m sorry to hear that. It happens more often than you might think.”
“So what can we do? Without my parents’ help, there’s no way I can pay my tuition on time.”
“You could pay in monthly installments,” she offered. “Would that help? It’s three equal payments with the first one due in March.”
I did the math in my head. “With the loan money I’m supposed to get for Spring, I’ll have enough to cover the first payment. But I won’t have enough to make the second and third.”
“At least that gives you some time to find another job,” Sheri said hopefully.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “but I’m not going to make thousands of dollars by April, and thousands more by May.”
Sheri winced, “That sounds like a problem.”
“You’re telling me,” I groaned and clapped my hands on my knees. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“The first step is talking to your parents. Try to work through whatever it is that’s coming between you and them.”
“Believe me, I’ve tried. It’s been an ongoing discussion since I started at SDU last fall.”
“But you’re still talking. That’s something, right?” she smiled optimistically.
“Maybe ‘discussion’ is too strong a word,” I sighed. “More like them giving me orders that they claim I refuse to obey.”
Sheri rolled her eyes. “I know how that goes. I was there once myself. My mom and I had it out all the time when I was a teenager.”
“So you know what I’m talking about?” It felt good to have someone who could relate.
“Do I ever. But that doesn’t mean you can’t get through to your own parents.”
“Believe me, I tried.”
She took a deep breath while nodding her head. I half expected her to keep pushing me to talk to my parents, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “If you absolutely can’t get your parents to understand where you’re coming from—”
I shook my head emphatically no.
“—and nothing is going to change their minds, there is the option of overriding your dependency status.”
I sat up on the edge of my chair hopefully. “Really?”
“Yes. But you have to meet certain criteria,” she cautioned.
“What criteria?” I was sure I could meet something or other. Criteria and me were besties. We went way back.
“Are your parents incarcerated or presumed dead?”
Maybe me and Criteria weren’t as close as I’d hoped. But the idea of my mom or dad in jail was hilarious. I couldn’t decide if my mom would rule her cell block or be shived in the shower because she was such a bitch. My dad would probably be like Andy Dufresne in The Shawshank Redemption and do everyone’s taxes while outsmarting the warden. As for presumed dead, did it count that they were dead to me? At least it felt that way. I sighed. Probably not.
“No to both,” I said.
Sheri’s friendly expression suddenly went serious. “This is difficult to ask, but were you physically or sexually abused by either one of your parents?”
“No. But does mental abuse count?” I joked.
I could tell Sheri didn’t find that funny.
“Sorry,” I said.
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about it. I know you’re probably very stressed dealing with all these money issues when all you’d rather be focusing on is your studies.”
“You can say that again,” I sighed.
“Next criteria. Are your parents unable to be located?”
I had no interest in ever seeing them again, but that wasn’t what she meant. “No. I mean, yes. They’re in Washington D.C.”
“And you weren’t adopted?”
“No.” But sometimes it felt like I was adopted by robots.
Sheri sighed heavily. “Well, unfortunately that means we won’t be able to override your dependency status.”
My shoulders sank and I slumped down in the chair. “Oh.”
“But you might qualify as independent already.”
“Oh?” I smiled.
“Yes. If you are twenty-four, you would automatically be considered independent, but I see here on the computer that you haven’t yet turned twenty.”
“No,” I sighed. “Not until next school year.”
“And you’re not an orphan, or ward of the court?”
“Do you mean a ward like Robin is a ward of Batman’s?” I asked hopefully
She grinned. “Well yes. But you don’t happen to know any superheroes, do you?”
“One,” I grinned, thinking of Christos. “But he doesn’t have a costume. He has tattoos. Does that count?”
She chuckled, “Sadly, no. Maybe if you got him to wear a costume?” she winked
“Probably not,” I sighed.
“Any chance you’re a veteran?”
“No.”
“A graduate student?”
“Still an undergrad. Geez, I’m nothing, aren’t I?”
She smiled. “I wouldn’t say that. I’d say you’re a bright young woman with a financial hiccup. We can work through it. You don’t have any legal dependents, do you? Any children or aging grandparents you care for?”
“No. But I could get pregnant, if that would help,” I said sarcastically.
“I wouldn’t advise it,” she said with amusement. “Besides, even if you got pregnant tomorrow, you wouldn’t have the baby until Fall Quarter, so your dependent status wouldn’t change until then. That wouldn’t help you pay your Spring tuition, now would it?” She winked at me.
“I guess not.”
She leveled a serious but compassionate look at me. “Don’t get pregnant, Samantha. If you think working two jobs is tough, having a child is ten times harder. I know what I’m talking about.” She picked up a photo from her desk and spun it around for me to see. It was her smiling with a little boy and girl. Both kids were grade school age. “Don’t let their cuteness fool you. Like toads, lizards, and demon spawn, the second they realize they’re larger than you, they will try to eat you,” she grinned.
“Got it. No kids.”
“Gosh,” she sighed, “there’s only one other option.”
I winced. “What? Do I have to be a member of the clergy or something? I’d totally become a nun if it would pay for school.”
“No,” she smiled, “just the opposite. You’re not married, are you?”
A bullet of surprise knocked me into the back of my chair. “Did you say married?”
“Yes.”
“As in, wed? As in, hitched?”
She chuckled, “I did. Can I take it that you have a husband? I only ask because I didn’t see a ring on your finger.”
I didn’t see a ring on my finger either, but the idea made me woozy in the best way possible. I leaned forward in my chair and rested my elbows on Sheri’s desk. My brain and heart swirled with possibilities.
What if Christos and I were married?
What if?
I suddenly wanted to do the happy dance on Sheri Denney’s desk. But it wasn’t like I could ask Christos to marry me, could I? No. Such things weren’t done. I could hint. I could hint like crazy twenty times a day. But Christos had to do the asking, assuming I didn’t scare him away with all the hinting.
Sheri raised her eyebrows expectantly. “You are married, aren’t you?”
“No,” I sighed. “Not yet, anyway. But I have a serious boyfriend.”
She deflated a little. “Don’t rush into anything, Samantha. I don’t want you coming back in here tomorrow with some adventure story about how you drove to Las Vegas tonight and got Elvis to marry you and your boyfriend at a drive thru wedding chapel for a hundred dollars. Marriage is a serious commitment. Don’t take it lightly.”