Ashton:
“Alright… have fun in college,” you try to hold back your tears as your nineteen year old son, Alaska, shoves the last box into his car.
He slams the door and turns around, smiling at you.
“Mom, you can cry if you want,” he offers.
“No, no, it’s okay. I’m just not going to see you as often… or care for you as much…” you start sniffling and arms wrap around you.
“It’s alright, babe, he’s just going to college,” Ashton assures you.
Another pair of arms wrap around you. “You still have Aliyah, mom.”
“It’s not the same,” you sob into his brunette quiff.
“I can always visit you, or you can visit me,” Alaska suggests.
“I’ll do that. Every week.”
“Good look, Alaska,” Ashton laughs.
Michael:
You walk into your seventeen year old daughter’s bedroom, closing the door behind you.
You sit on the bed and turn to your daughter who turned her attention from the computer screen to you.
“You don’t want to go to college,” you say simply.
Amber tenses up, turning her gaze to the ground.
“I just came to tell you that it’s okay. You don’t have to decide what you want to do yet. I don’t want you to feel pressured. I want you to have freedom, since you’re still seventeen. Don’t feel like you have to go to college to make us happy. Okay, Amber? We still love you and want you to be happy.”
You stand up to hug her.
Luke:
“You’re going to college next week,” you lay next to your eighteen year old daughter on the hammock, staring at the star filled sky.
“I can’t believe I’ve lived through so much school,” Daisy says softly.
“I can’t believe I’ve raised you for eighteen years. You’re my first born. I don’t know how I’m going to do this, Dais,” you laugh quietly.
“Me neither, mom. I love you so much. You’re my best friend,” she admits.
“I love you too. You’re my best friend as well,” you turn to give her a smile.
Calum:
“Are you fucking kidding me, Calum?” You hiss to your husband.
It’s one in the morning and you and Calum are the only ones up, your four children sleeping.
“He’s going to a college near us, he can’t handle himself without us,” Calum argues, glaring at you.
“Let Phoenix go to the college he wants to,” you argue back, crossing your arms.
The two of you are arguing about whether your eighteen year old son, Phoenix, should go to a college near you or away from you.
“How’s he going to survive?” Calum hisses.
“He’s going to have a roommate, he’s going to mature, he’s eighteen years old Calum, put some trust in him,” you groan, narrowing your eyes at him.
“I got accepted to University of Oregon,” a voice says suddenly from the foot of the stairs.
You and Calum turn to see Phoenix staring at the both of you.
“In America,” Phoenix adds. “I can handle myself, dad. I know myself better than you know me.”
“Fine. Just go, Phoenix,” Calum rubs his face before going up the stairs to bed.