Unplanned Summer

1: I Would Die for Guy Fieri

*Disclaimer: I mentioned this in the story description, but just want to remind readers- anxiety will be brought up in this story a few times (starts in this first chapter). The way the narrator addresses this may seem nonchalant and careless at some points, but that is because it's something she has dealt with for years. While the symptoms still occur and manifest in different ways, she is almost "used to it" in a way that it's not something she's scared to address or talk about anymore. I know this is different for many people, but this is just a feeling I experienced personally that I thought would be interesting to introduce to a story character (thought it may resonate with some people). In no way do I mean to "blow off" this serious topic or take it lightly. This is just the current relationship the narrator has with her anxiety.

Secondly: I see Hailey Bieber playing the part of Annabelle, hence the pictures at the start of each chapter, but obviously you can assume who you want.

Apologies for the long note, I just thought it was important to clarify. Happy reading!

Chapter 1: I Would Die for Guy Fieri

It smells amazing. Honey, maybe? No, more like maple syrup. That's it, syrup. Suddenly, a plate stacked high with Belgian waffles appears next to me. "What the he-"

I was interrupted by the voice of a young boy, yelling at me to wake up. Wait, wake up?

My eyes flew open in part confusion and part anger, the anger stemming from the knowledge that the decadent breakfast was in fact, a figment of my imagination. I roll over in bed just to come face to face with my younger brother, Daniel. "Mom's mad you know, she thinks you sleep too much," he informs me. "Does she know that's not possible?" I retort. You'd think after 19 years of living under my parent's roof, she would know that seeing me downstairs before 11 o'clock in the morning could only result from one thing- Armageddon. Actually, go ahead and add Belgian waffles to the short list; that seems to be a new love of mine. Now remembering the disappointment I felt when I realized no one made me the drool-worthy breakfast, I felt a pang in my heart. How first-world problem of me, feeling genuine, physical pain after not being served a plate of fresh breakfast. I can't even bring myself to feel guilty.

"Are you done daydreaming yet?" I quickly jerked my head up, having totally forgot my brother standing there. "She's not going to be very happy if you stay up here any longer," he reminds me. I roll my eyes and force myself out from under my warm sheets. "And I won't be very happy if you're up here any longer," I say pointedly at him. I trek past him into the bathroom, bracing myself for the tragic task I must complete every morning—looking in the mirror. "Yeesh," I say out loud to no one but myself. I'm sure Daniel would be happy to vocalize his disapproval at my appearance if he were still in the room, but as annoying as he is, he knows not to hover. I knew we got along for a reason.

I open the bathroom cabinet and start to unload the incredibly large collection of skin care products I've put together throughout the past few months. As much as I would love to be blessed with naturally clear skin, ya girl's got acne scars out the wazzoo. Acne is such a tease, you work so hard to get rid of the blemishes, and then once they're finally gone, BAM. Scars. Mother nature just can't cut a teenager some slack.

As I'm finishing up my long morning routine, I begin to wonder how tomorrow will go. It's one thing to start a new job, but for that job to be at my dad's company is a whole different story. I have to spend my summer trying to impress not only my fellow coworkers and employers, but my own father? Why did I sign up for this again? Oh, right—I'm broke. Being a shopaholic with no money is kind of hard, hence the reason I am in this position. And I know I'm fortunate to basically have a job handed to me without so much as an interview, but it just makes me feel more pressured to prove myself.