Girly Boy

three

I had a knack for learning languages. Spanish was an easy A for me and Mexico wasn't too far away. It'd be cheaper too with the conversion rate and there was a possibility I wouldn't be so miserable.

I couldn't leave my family. Not this soon. Probably not even after I graduate.

The world is too big.

A knock on my car window jolted me into action. My phone dropped between the seat and center console further thwarting me into a storm of swear words. Finally the window completed its descent. A blue raincoat entered my vision through the drops of rain pelting the rim of the car's interior.

"You know there's something to value about the experience of pushing a buggy around a shopping mart," The grovellish voice began. I didn't reply due to the sheer embarrassment of being called out for my laziness.

"Tommie G.?"

"That's me," My response plopped into my lap. The man typed into his tablet before bending down. Underneath the blue hood were a pair of deep green eyes and a pink nose.

"I hope you feel bad about dragging your dear classmate into the rain for your convenience," Sebastian announced with a tilt of the head. "Now pop the trunk, Grant."

I was stunned to say the least, staring back at the unlikely visitor. My mouth opened and closed then opened and closed again. Sebastian grew more amused the longer I gazed at him, lips curving upwards in a sadistic smirk.

His ring-adorned hand reached beside me to tug on the latch to the back of my car, brushing my thigh on the way back to his side. "You stay here."

The tall boy circulated around to the boot and unloaded my groceries while I thrusted my hand into the narrow space beside me to retrieve my phone. What else was I supposed to be doing today? Certainly not acting like a fool in the parking lot of some store while my attractive and mysterious peer single handedly brings me to my knees. My fingers grazed the edge of my cellphone, Sebastian tapped the top of the car to say goodbye and in an instant the phone was gone again.

-

Gel polish does not chip but it does peel. The damage my nails have endured from my incessant peeling had me wondering how they even survived this long. Peeling was a major stress reliever for me since my mom let me purchase a UV lamp. All the time I spent painting my nails went down the drain after 24 hours due to my anxious nature. My beautiful gem green nail job was being plucked from my fingers with every second I spent staring at the bins of documents my father wanted me to sort.

Being Robert's daughter meant that I doubled as his part time assistant. I scheduled his meetings, assisted with auditions, reminded him of routine deadlines and generally kept him professionally managed. Why couldn't he do that himself, I couldn't tell you, but the man insisted I continue.

Surrounded by the remnants of my nail lacquer, I stood in my bedroom sorting my dad's cheerleader forms. Since gathering a new team at his new college, my father has been weighed down by the responsibility of finding, sorting, and making copies of his liability forms and contracts. So, naturally, he asked me to do it instead. This type of task was to be expected of my father on a weekend but there was so much paper I knew the work would carry me into the week.

Thus why he put this on the end of his list.

"Can I be compensated for this?" I asked Robert, gripping the handles on the Sterilite bins.

"Can you be– are you really asking your father to pay you money for a simple favor?"

I deadpanned. "This isn't a simple favor. This is your legal work. Why can't mom help you?"

The robe clad man retrieved his leftover coffee cake from the refrigerator, shaking his head at my incredulous question.

"I'm not going to be here forever Tommie. Value me while you can." Robert sauntered into his office and shut the door firmly behind him.

The good thing about this predicament is that I could technically use this as experience on a resume to get a job as a paid personal assistant. The downside is that my father would most likely get his feelings hurt and have a sitdown discussion about loyalty.

My bedroom door slams open and I hear heavy footsteps behind me. Carmichael pats my head on his way to lay out on my bed, crinkling papers I had so carefully organized with his thoughtless intrusion. He must've just gotten back from class judging by the book filled backpack slumped over his shoulder.

"Get out."

"Don't be rude." The man scrolled on his phone, ignoring my request.

"Do you need something?" I sifted through more paperwork.

Carmichael shrugged, continuing to scroll on his phone without another word. I sighed when he plucked the crumpled documents from beneath him and set them aside on another pile of forms I'd have to re-sort. The soothing sound of rain pattering from my open window was replaced by random music and soundbytes from Car's phone.

"Ha! Mimi, look at this," My brother chortled.

"No." I refused to entertain the child.

Hmm an audition form attached to a headshot, resume, and a liability waiver. Should I detach the headshot and resume? It feels wrong to separate this complete unit of an application. I'll just start a new pile.

The crack of a soda can caught my attention. On my bed, Michael slurped down his drink without an ounce of class and set the can down on the floor beside him.

"Nuh-uh. Throw your trash away," I scolded.

"There's still soda in there."

"You're a liar– I just watched you down the entire can!"

Carmichael shrugged again, "So?"

I threw a pencil pouch that was in my vicinity at my brother's shoulder.

"What the hell?!"

"Get. Out." I demanded. Michael grabbed his things and fled the scene but my annoyance grew once I realized he still hadn't taken the damn soda can.

The trash was full when I went to drop the can in there. Taking out the trash was the job of the men in the house according to my father, but considering they'd both pissed me off, I didn't feel the need to check in with them to take it out myself.

If the back porch's light wasn't bright enough then the lightning clashes were. There was no garbage can in sight. My eyes squinted trying to look into the black of my backyard to see if it was placed in the wrong spot by my brother, but that too fell short.

I went to the livingroom to peek out at the front yard and sure enough the garbage can was still out there from yesterday with the lid open, collecting rainwater.

Michael, count your days.

I scampered to the trash can at the fastest speed I could muster and tried to gracefully push it over without causing a ruckus for the neighbors to look out to. I managed to tip the heavy thing over and watched the murky water flood out onto the grass. Some irrational part of me concluded that mutant weeds would grow soon after this night to terrorize me for my somewhat non-eco-friendly act, but we would all have to meet our maker sometime, right?

The bag made it into the can and I closed the lid over it. I pulled the container off the curb considering the next trash day wasn't until next week, but I figured one of the men of the house could haul it to the back in the morning.

A car door unlocked. Standing across from me in his blue raincoat was Sebastian. It was hard to see his features with the lack of lighting, but I'd assumed he'd just come from Ms. Lennol's house.

I lifted a hand to wave. He did the same.

"I'll see you on Wednesday," He called out to me. The boy started his car and drove off into the night leaving me to wonder.

Wednesday?

I wiped the rain from my face to start the journey back to my house, pondering what the hell he could've meant by that?

(2112)