Simple Deal

Four

Beth:

So last night Justin Bieber and I may not have had the best impression of each other, and as crazy as this sounds, I'm actually not that ready to give this opportunity up.

First of all, I get to go worldwide. If that's not marvelous, I don't know what is.

Second of all, I don't bloody need to go to school. School comes to me, whoa.

Third of all, I get to have some fun with a famous kid, just to straighten him out.

Drawing in a deep breath as I dragged my eyes up to look at both of my parents who were seated on the sofa opposite me, reading the newspapers, I quietly let out that breath before I realized how my fingers were dancing around and about on my lap, indicating my uneasiness.

But you still have to do, you chicken.

Clearing my throat as well just to get their attention, I think it seemed to have work when I noticed the both of them shifting the newspapers down their faces, probably knowing I had something in mind to share.

"Mom, Dad, I have a proposal," I managed to say; my voice sounding as firm as ever, internally shocking me to the depths of hell because if there's one thing about me that the world should know, it's that I don't usually think I'm confident but always manage to sound like I am.

Staring as Mom slowly pulled the newspaper to a close before folding it into half, placing it politely on the coffee table and in place, I drew in yet another deep breath when she leaned back on the chair, this time, closer to Dad as he kept still; his eyes never once leaving mine.

Okay, no doubt that I'm nervous now.

"So. . . Like," I nervously began, letting out a laugh, "hi Mom, hi Dad. Well, you know, I ended work really late night and—while I was doing my job, I may have met somebody that has thought of a perfect deal to make with me. . ."

"Who's that somebody?" Dad questioned in an instant, his deep voice filled with nothing but curiosity that was slowly biting me alive, because at the moment I'm already too anxious to be reading anyone's mind.

"And what's that deal?" Mom shot right after, making me gulp.

Can somebody take this cool with me, just like I'm trying to keep myself cool, please. I'm begging you.

"Okay, I'm not going to beat around the bush any longer," inhaling, I held my breath for like a good five seconds to get my heart to stop jumping so hard in my chest before exhaling, dragging my eyes up to meet the both of their intrusive ones.

"I met Scooter Braun last night, and we've made a deal for me to straighten Justin Bieber out in exchange to find an author for me to finally publish my stories."

Squeezing my eyes shut immediately after I allowed the last word to roll out of my mouth, my fingers instinctively found themselves a handful of my loose pants before curling, clutching onto them tightly, in fear of getting to learn about my parents' reactions.