My Calling

Six - The Meeting

Chapter Six

I don't know, this is kind of messy and I'm not sure if it's realistic. Oh well, not my fault. Vote and comment ... yeah. And promo me and I shall promo you back. yay, okay great. Also, read http://www.wattpad.com/user/jicaray story, it's fab! 

Enjoy everyone, for anyone who reads Thought of Her, that chapter should be up sometime in the next few days. (:

I end up having to tell the girls where the jacket came from which lead them onto mocking me about Wes and my growing relationship with him, which then lead onto being genuinely happy at the friendly banter. I apologise to the girls for being such a downer and they wave me away, saying that it’s understandable to be angry.  My happy mood carries over the whole weekend and my family are stoked that I’m finally talking again. That I’m finally coming to terms with everything.

However, on Monday I’m back to square one because school is murderous. I keep my head down and avoid any questions, eventually the school finds out that I didn’t make it. There are a few spiteful comments but mostly my friends deflect them for me. I sit in class silently and pretend to listen, whatever the teacher says just flies over my head anyway. I’m in a pretty shitty mood on my home from school. I play my music loud in the car and angrily sing along. I’m annoyed and frustrated that I have to put up with this for the rest of the year and there’s nothing I can do about it.

When I pull into the driveway there’s a sleek black Ferrari in the driveway. I sigh; I’m really not in the mood to see one of Dad’s clients in our house right now. They always try to make conversation and I always feel uncomfortable. No, I don’t like women from my neighbourhood discussing why they’re here for their private appointment with my father. Whether it is that niggling STD or the bump, they have on their boobs. Dad being a private doctor has its difficulty, that’s for sure.  

I run my hand along the car gently and admire its beauty, thankful the alarm isn’t on so I don’t embarrass myself. It’s a nice car. Nicer than what I’m used to seeing. Dad’s clients usually drive BMW’s. They’re always BMW’s. It’s weird.

I push the door open and hear people talking in the lounge, I try and sneak up the staircase unnoticed but my Mum stops me, her voice carrying out very well throughout the house, “Asha, is that you dear? Can you come in for a moment? There’s someone here to see you.”

I contemplate ignoring her but I know I’ll never hear the end of it. Grudgingly, I make my way into the lounge. My mum is smiling as if there’s no tomorrow so I’m immediately on alert. My mum never smiles that big. When I see the other figure sitting on the couch I stop dead in my tracks.

Simon Cowell is sitting in my lounge.

I hesitantly walk over and look at Mum nervously, “Uh yes? You wanted me.”

It’s Simon who answers me, “Asha love, I'm here to talk about the X Factor." 

"Yeah?" I say, my tone becoming happier. Maybe he's here to tell me it was all a mistake and I am through to the Live Shows.

"I'm really sorry Demi let you go, what are you going to do now?" 

I sit down because my hopes crash around me. I wait for the catch. Nothing comes. Maybe he does this for every rejected contestant that made it this far. After all, he is the producer. My voice drops again as I shrug, "I don't know. Go back to school, study medicine like my parents wanted." 

He frowns, "Well that's no good." 

"Yeah tell me about it."

"I'm here to offer you a preposition. I think Demi was wrong to let you go. So I'm here to offer you a contract with me."