CHAPTER THIRTEEN
INDIGO
a few days earlier.
"Miss Brown! Your desk will be here, if you have any questions please, don't hesitate to ask, we want you to use all of Bess's opportunities to their full potentials." The small woman before me is gesturing wildly as she speaks. Like I said, she's small. Not just short, but her thighs are the size of my forearms. She has short black hair, cut to be in alignment with her jaw bone. She's dressed far more professionally than I am, in a a mid-shin length pencil skirt, and a cream turtle neck sweater tucked into it. I think her name is Emery, but I really don't remember, she's said so much in such a small amount of time.
I smile, "Thank you so much."
She nods, matching my smile with a wide one of her own, "Of course! If you need anything at all, just call me." She rolls her eyes, "HR still hasn't updated my number, so instead of under Ember, it'll be under Stasha."
Ember. I stash that into my mental folder I had created upon arriving at Bess's this morning. Bess's is the location of internship. It's really nothing fancy, just a small building with two levels. The lower level is an art studio of sorts, where students come to learn, and the upper level worries about scheduling the teachers, getting new types of art classes, and a lot more of the cultural and financial side. I'm on the upper level, though being one of the teachers sounds super cool, too.
I watch as Ember walks out of the small room, and down the hall. I survey my area. There's a window overlooking the alley beside the building, an oak desk in the middle, and a black swivel chair. A computer sits on the desk, as well as a large paper planner, and a cup with pens and pencils.
With a sigh, and a genuine smile on my face, I put my bag down onto the desk. I feel slightly over prepared. Ember has given me a brief rundown of what I would be doing while I was here, and truthfully, none of it really seems to be too difficult. Just a lot of making class rosters, and managing the calls, answering people's questions. All simple stuff.
I catch myself in the reflection of the window as I move to sit in the chair. A flowy brown dress, and a pair of white boots. My hair is kind of a mess, my curl cream hasn't done nearly as much taming as I had hoped. I lift up my arm to re-center my necklace, and when I do, the neckline of my dress dips a little, exposing a nearly completely faded bruise, roughly the size of Kolby's mouth. I frown, and run a gentle finger over it. I hadn't realized it before. My face starts to heat as I remember what had occurred just forty eight hours prior.
Before my mind can take me down a deep, dark rabbit hole I definitely don't want to be in at ten am in the morning, I ran a hand over my face, and blow loose curls from my face. I don't need to think about Kolby right now, I need to get started on learning how to work this computer.
And that's what I do. I sit down at my desk, and open up the computer. There's a sticky note on the keyboard, which boasts the current username and password, a smiley face, and a note saying I'm more than welcome to change both the username and password to something that fits me a little better.
Once I'm logged in, I immediately get to personalizing the computer. I change the username to INDIGOMARIE, and change the password to BLUEBROWN, a variant of all of my other passwords.
• • •
It's nearly two o'clock when I get done with my personalization of the computer. And I'm so fucking bored. Ember has stopped by a handful of times, asking me how it's been, and if I've gotten any phone calls — I haven't — or if I've had to adjust any of the withstanding rosters — I haven't. It's like there's nothing to do but sit, and wait. I feel slightly like Professor Hampton over sold this me.
My phone goes off, a sharp ding breaking up the stifling silence I've been consumed by all day. I jump, startled by the fact I had left my ringer on. And also slightly hurt that someone is just now messaging me. Then again, I remind myself, Sadie's at work herself, and it's not like I have a pool of friends awaiting me to jump into their arms.
I grab my phone and turn it over. My small smile grows slightly, which is kind of embarrassing to admit to myself, when I see Kolby's name above the small message.
KOLBY: WYD 2NITE?
I go to text back, laughing to myself. Of course Kolby wouldn't remember today was the first day of my internship. It kind of pangs my heart, but I'm sure Kolby's insanely busy, just like me, and everyone else. Besides, it's not like we're dating so why should he need to know everything going on in my life anyway? That's how girls with friends with benefits think right? Oh my God, so I have a friend with benefits?
"Ms Brown."
I jump again, and immediately drop my phone. Is being on my phone when I have literally nothing else to do against the rules? As much as I'm bored to tears, I don't want to get fired on my first day!
It's not Ember at my door, instead, it's a guy, probably a few years older than me. He's tallish, with her black hair, and deep olive skin. Glasses are perched on his nose, and he's dressed much more casually than Ember, in a pair of jeans and a basic long sleeve shirt.
"Yes, hi," I say as mystery dude comes fully into my little room. "Can I help you?"
He laughs a little. It's a warm sound, and now that he's closer, I can see stubble on his chin, and chocolate brown eyes. He's relatively attractive, of I'm being honest, here.
"No, no, I was just coming up here to tell you your good to go for the day. I'm sure you're bored."
I flush. "I'm not supposed to get off until five, Mr . . ."
"Quincy," he says, filling in the blanks, "Henry Quincy. I'm the manager today, you're good to go. I promise."
I nod, slowly rising from my chair. "Well, thanks, Mr Quincy."
"Call me Henry, please," he pauses, runs a look over me that makes my spine chill, "Have a good evening, Indigo."
I get home around three, and by the smell wafting down from the opened windows, I can tell Sadie's already home, and either making herself a very late lunch, or making the two of us a very early dinner. Since Sadie and I techinally share the Honda I just parked, she had to borrow her moms suburban, which takes up most of the room in the driveway. I open the door to a warm gust of air, and the delcious smell of broccolie being steamed.
"Babes!" She says as I round the corner into the kitchen, kicking off my shoes, and shedding both my wool scarf and long coat. It's stupid cold outside.
"Hey," I say, "How was work?"
She shrugs, which the typical response. She coaches gymnastics about twenty or so minutes away, and although she always she loves it, she never seems to have anything good to say about it, or the kids.
"Okay, I guess. One of the newer girls finally threw her back tuck, so that was good." She wipes her hands off on a nearby towel, and folds them under her chin, leaning on the counter. Her red hair is in two braids, on either side of her head, and she sports, surprise, surprise, one of her brother's hoodies, Drew's by the looks of it, and a pair of sweatpants, that have to be at least two sizes too big. "But forget about me!" She wiggles her eyebrows and smiles at me, "Is there anything you want to tell me?"
My heart stops in my chest, and I think my throat constricts entirely. At least, judging by the sudden lack of air inhibiting my lungs. She knows. Oh my fucking God, she knows. I open my mouth to apologize, to promise her I didn't mean to keep it from her, but I just didn't know how to bring it up, and please don't hate me for the rest of eternity because I'm screwing your brother, but no words come out, instead, tears spring into my eyes.
Sadie's face morphs into concern, "Was someone mean to you? I swear, babes, you tell me who and that sick son of a bitch is a dead, dead man -- or woman, bitches are mean as fuck, too."
I blink rapidly as I come to my senses. Sadie doesn't know, she was asking how my day had gone. Albeit, in an odd sort of way, but, well Sadie does lots of things in an odd sort of way. I'm so paranoid that I can't even have a normal conversation with my best friend. Kolby Bradford has mind fucked me so much in the past month, that I think Sadie is on to me.
Before Sadie can commit first degree murder, I shake my head, and come up with the most bullshit lie I can think off, "No, no, I just got an eyelash in my eye."
Sadie sighs dramatically, "Okay, good, well I mean like not good I'm sure that really fucking hurts -- Anyway, any cute guys?"
For what feels like the first time in forever, I tell Sadie a truth, "Yes, the manager."
"Ooooooh!" She squeals, clapping her hands together like a toddler, "Spill everything!"
I shrug. My heart has decided to restart, thankfully, and I can finally breathe properly, "There's not much too spill. He has dark hair, tan skin, glasses, seems nice enough, I guess."
Sadie's smile keeps growing, and she's nodding so fast I think her head might just unscrew itself. "It's about time you got some action, again! God knows Greer couldn't do shit."
When I don't reply, she gasps, placing a hand over her heart, "Indigo Marie! Have you been getting on with someone else and you haven't told me? I ought to kill you!"
Yes, Sadie, you ought too.
a/n: i'm here for the angst :))))