Cancel Your Future

Chapter 13

"Yeah, well, I need to fill up my NYU resumé,"

"I thought you said the positions they offer on the committee suck?"

"They do."

"You signed up for all of them."

"I had to make sure they all sucked."

"Please, the only reason you have this attitude is because no one asked you to go."

"Please, I've hated these things since the womb."

"Maybe if you didn't act like you were on your period twenty-four seven, I might have asked you."

"What? You're going?"

"Fuck no."

"You think you have me all figured out, don't you?"

"Whatever, loser," Virgil pushed my shoulder with his as he walked away. I would have retaliated, but I have a recording of him making a deal with a senior to take his S.A.T.'s. I win. 

I glanced at my name written multiple times on the sheet. Decorating. Clean up. Cup provider. Outside security. Fuck, if I'm going down you're going down with me. With that, I scribbled Clapton Payne repeatedly under my name.

If it wasn't obvious, I really hated Virgil.

Ten minutes later Elle and her second head (Lenny) showed up as scheduled. Clapton accompanied.

"Sorry, we're late," Elle started.

"We saw you were with Virgil," Lenny continued.

"We figured you'd want your privacy," Concluded Elle.

I gagged a little. "Yeah, good thinking. I definitely wouldn't want witnesses to be there when I murdered him," The clones giggled. Perverts.

"Anyways," I rolled my eyes, signaling for Clapton to turn on the webcam, "I conducted a few questions I'd like to ask Elle, and Elle alone.

Aside from Elle turning the interview into a therapy session, I'd say that it went well. I'd gotten all my facts, and an in-depth story about how her father cheated on her mother in Topeka on a business trip. I guess it was inappropriate of me to respond "Yeah, dads are assholes". But seriously though, cry about your dysfunctional parents on your own time like the rest of us. Do it while blasting My Chemical Romance in your car, when you can't sleep at night, when you're in the shower and want to pretend you're in a really shitty High School Musical number. Make an evening out of it. (Personal experience.)

The entire conversation was saved on my laptop (I'll edit the sobbing out later), and the follow-up post will be on my blog by morning. I got what I wanted: the satisfaction of manipulating the junior class president, my job, and my story.

"Be strong," Lenny whispered in her companion's ear. "You know it's not your fault. They love you."

If I had a dollar for every time I heard that line...

"Shut up, Lenny!" Elle said probably for the first time in her life. Honestly, I don't blame her. That rehearsed line makes me cringe.

"You're not angry at me! You're angry at them!" Lenny ran behind her after Elle stormed out the door in tears. The two had been inseparable since Pre-K, this might have been the first time I'd seen one of them raise their voice to the other. (In English, that is.)

Family problems really do take a toll on people.. Is that why I'm coldhearted? Nah. I prefer to think of myself as "freakin' hilarious" and "keeps it real". I looked at Clapton staring blankly at the laptop. I'm surprised he lasted through the entire interview without putting in his own two sense.

"Clapton, did you get that?"

"Get what?" he asked.

"The footage."

"Oh, no. But I did read some of your old Tumblr posts. Did your mother and grandfather ever work out that house insurance? My sympathies. I know how it feels to fall asleep to yelling and screaming. I am no stranger to the crying that comes with it."

"Oh my God, Clapton! You can't read that! How the fuck did you get into my account?!"

"'EffyeahAndrea' is not a secure password, Andrea. Child's play."

I snatched the laptop from his desk. "You are unfreaking believable, Clapton! I thought we were friends!" As expected, he stared at me like a child unaware of its crime.

"Also I'd suggest deleting the topless pictures of Darren Criss while using school wifi. Just a suggestion."

Then it was my turn to storm out of the room.

"Andrea, wait!"

I turned around.

"It occurred to me that we never finished our project. Would you like to come over and work on it tonight?"

"I can't. Paper route." Clapton nodded understandingly. "Would you like to come?"

"No."

"Well, you have to."

"Why?"

"Because we're friends."

"Drat."