Chasing the Story

First Days Are Always Rough

“Ohmygod, look at you, Livi. My baby’s all grown up.”

I felt myself blush a deep red as the blond, blue-eyed bombshell who’d raised me since I was seven snapped another picture of me.

“Auntie Kay.” I muttered, dragging out her name in embarrassment and letting my eyes drop to the floor.

She chuckled softly and I felt her finger under my chin, lifting my face up so I was looking into the full length mirror that stood before me.

I stared back at myself. About five foot five, I'm not particularly tall or short, which suits me just fine; I like blending into the crowd. With auburn hair and ivory skin peppered with the occasional freckle, my green eyes are the only thing about me that stands out. They aren’t a pale green, or a grey green, or an I’m-kind-of-green-depending-on-the-weather-green. They are a BOOM-IN-YOUR-FACE-GREEN. They’re always the first thing people comment on when they see me.

“Oh my god, your eyes are so green!” “Are those contacts? They can’t be real!” I’d actually considered getting contacts once, just to get people to shut up about it. But I’m a total baby about anything going near my eyes. Auntie Kay had to literally pin me down just to put mascara on me this morning. So, the contacts plan was scrapped and now I just awkwardly stare at the floor and mumble a quiet ‘thanks’ when anyone feels the need to remind me that my eyes are, yes, green.

I focused my attention back on my reflection and gulped. I looked like a grown-up. I mean, technically I am an "adult" since I’d turned eighteen last Wednesday. Yet even then, I’d still felt like my scrawny, girlish self. But now, in my new black business suit, leather briefcase in hand, I looked like I was somebody. Well, I mean of course I'm somebody. But somebody important, you know?

I shook my head quickly, having successfully confused myself.

“I just want to remember this moment forever. My baby’s first job. And at the fricken New York Times, too.”

I smiled up at her. “It’s an internship. Not a real job. They only give me a stipend for travel and stuff—not even a real paycheck.”

My aunt waved me away with her hand. “Details, details,” she grinned. “Remind me how many people applied for this internship?”

I looked down and shuffled my feet, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a big ol’ grin on my face.  

“Ahem,” she coughed, raising her eyebrows at me.

“A few,” I muttered sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes at me. “I think twenty-five thousand applicants counts as more than a few. And how many were selected?” She asked, poking me in the stomach.

I squealed and jumped away. That bully—she knows that’s my weak spot.

“How many?” She asked again, before breaking out into the annoying sing-song voice she uses whenever she wants to rile me up. “I can’t hear you, Livi. How many?”

Her finger was coming at me again, so I laughed and threw my hands up in mock defeat. “Okay, okay. Three people. Three people were selected.”

“Uh huh,” she said, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “So don’t tell me this isn’t a big deal. Now let me get one more look at you.”

 She took a step back, looking me over and cocking her head to the side as she examined me from head to toe. If anyone else had looked at me like she was now, I’d have felt violated and would have probably turned about the shade of a tomato. But Auntie Kay had been there through everything; she was my best friend.