Getting By ~ Cole & Cassie's Story

A Day In the Life

Cassie P.O.V

                “Cole, get up!” I yelled, poking my head through the door of my little brother’s room, wrinkling my nose at the sight it held. “Geez Cole, we cleaned up two days ago. You’re a pig.” I said simply.

A groan came from the lump on the bed “Go away…”

“Nu-uh, it’s a school day. I knew I shouldn’t of let you go out with Sophie last night; you’re practically a zombie every time you do. What you two do to wear each other out is beyond me.” I was in the kitchen by now, yelling over my shoulder. The coffee was on, the toaster was loaded and the sun was shining. Cole had written an amazing report (with help from yours truly), Jake was taking me out for coffee and Finn wasn’t late for work. Perfect.

“Coffee…” Cole mumbled as he tripped into the room, pulling a shirt over his head as he went.

“Here,” I said, handing him a travel mug and a piece of toast “Go pick up Sophie or she’ll have your head-along with your maths teacher, who informs me you have been late every day for a week, by the way. Not cool, Cole.”

“Pretend I’m saying something that will make you feel better about your parenting skills.” Said Cole, chugging his coffee and eating his toast in three bites. Cole was always commenting on my parenting skills-which Sophie thought were amazing, by the way-but we both knew I was a better parent-figure than a lot of people. We also both wished that it was our parents that were doing all the things I was, but we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. You can’t change the past.

“Colton,” I said in ‘the voice’, the one that always let him know I was being serious, being ‘mom’, not ‘sister’.

“Cassandra,” he mimicked, giving me his thousand watt smile and hefting his knapsack over his shoulder.

“Have good day, Cole.” I said, following him down the stairs and onto the front porch.

“You too, sis.” He waved, jumped in our car (yes we share a car) and drove away.

I sighed, but not in a way that showed how much I wished it wasn’t me who had to be the parent for Cole, to be the one who made his breakfast, and paid for field trips and lunches, made sure he got to school on time, helped with his home work.

I shook my head, annoyed that I doubted not only myself, but the life we had now. Our parents had been dead for seven years, and were staying that way. Mom would never help Cole with his homework; Dad would never help him with his soccer skills in the back yard for hours. Instead, I got to do this stuff. I got to re-learn all the stuff I had so happily left behind at eighteen. I got to play soccer in the back all summer long. Me.

Don’t get me wrong, I loved my life. After selling our house, I bought a house on Crescent Avenue, which was home to many family businesses. The whole street was old Victorian style homes with front porches and big bay windows with three floors and a balcony turned into shops. Every house had a store in its main floor; weather it be a grocery store or a restaurant.

My own business was a book store called Live Again Books, the name my parents always dreamed of naming their bookstore if they ever opened one.

I sighed again, and turned my back on the street to go inside. The store would be opening in an hour, but I was expecting my workers in half an hour. This meant I had half an hour to shower, have breakfast and write for a while. Yeah right.

Instead, I showered really fast, grabbed a piece of toast and tried to clean the house a little. Which was nearly impossible because Cole’s stuff tended to pour out of his room into the living space, which was as cramped as it needed to be already.