Every young girl my age just wants a job or to find love and marry a rich guy. But not me—I don't really like rich men.
"Alva!" Mom called, positioning herself on the wooden doorpost. "Wake up!" she called out again.
"...."
"Alva! Alva!" Mom yelled, moving toward the bed in haste.
Alva, who had been deeply asleep, lay still, her face serene. As she woke, her eyes fluttered open, revealing a mix of disorientation and annoyance. She slowly sat up, pulling the purple and black duvet from her face, and let out a languid yawn.
Her hair was a tangled mess, sticking out in every direction, with knots and snags aplenty. She ran her hand through it, but it remained delightfully disheveled.
"Mom, can't I sleep a little bit?" Alva groaned.
"Hey! Get ready, your aunt will be here shortly," she announced, ignoring the question.
"Ahhh." Alva sighed. "I'll be down in an hour."
Mom stared at her, arms folded.
"Don't stare at me like that," Alva murmured under her breath.
"..."
"Okay, okay, fifty-nine minutes," she bargained.
"I give you one hour to go freshen up," Mom said, about to leave, when Alva spoke again.
"If it's about searching for a male friend or a job… I'm not coming."
"Okay, but little Tom will be out in the rain," she threatened, referring to the scared little kitten—Alva's weakness.
"Mom!" she exclaimed.
"I'll be waiting for you, so get ready," Mom smiled and walked out of the room, victorious.
"Aaaaaaaaahhhhh!" Alva screamed.
♣♣♣
Staying with your parents is the worst nightmare for every girl—especially me. My dad is annoying, my mom worse, Brian (my younger brother) much worse, and Harper is a little annoying. I live in a weird family…
30 minutes later
"Hello," Alva waved to the two ladies sitting opposite her mom.
"Hello, Alva! You look so big and beautiful. When I came here last, you were still in high school," Aunt Emily said, smiling.
It's been a century since you came here, Aunt.
"You're just the opposite of your mom when she was your age," Aunt Lizzy added.
"That's not true—I was pretty then," Mom objected, frowning like a baby.
"Eve, you know that's not true. You were not like Alva," Emily said, waving off the objection.
"Did you both come here to insult—" Mom started but bit her lip when I interrupted.
"Mom, you look so young and pretty, and I'm sure when you were my age, you were as pretty as Mona Lisa," I complimented her.
My mom really was pretty—with her dark brown eyes (which I inherited), her blonde hair, and those freckles that made her even more beautiful. I wonder how she ended up with my dad. Weren't there handsome men in her youth? Not that my dad isn't handsome—he is, with his black hair and black eyes—but…
"Darling," Lizzy said, her voice low-pitched.
That tone—that's the voice she uses when she's about to advise me to get married or find a job.
"My sweet darling Alva. I'm getting worried about you. You're done with high school and still, no male friend, no job."
I knew it.
It was heartbreaking to hear. They all want me to find a guy or a job.
But I'm not ready for a relationship or marriage right now. Can't they wait a few years—like, five? For now, I want to enjoy my youth, go to the beach on weekends, and listen to my favorite songs.
"Alva," she said again. The room went silent. It was as if everyone's soul was waiting for what she was about to say.
"Since you're not ready for a guy right now, I found the perfect job for you in New York."
I really didn't know what expression to make. Should I be happy or sad?
She paused and looked at my mom, who was glowing with happiness at this weird news.
"The company needs a hardworking secretary."
"Okay…"
"You'll be asked to meet him on a blind date next week," she concluded.
Wait a minute—I didn't accept that. I… I just said okay. Does my opinion not matter here?
"Do you have any pic of him?" Mom asked.
"I think so." Lizzy scrolled through her phone, looking for the picture.
Who could this lucky boy be, wanting me to work for him?
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.
My phone buzzed loudly.
"That's Sophie. I'll be back," I said, running out of the room.
"This is his picture," she finally said, showing the phone to Mom, who squinted at it.
"Where are you going?" she called after me.
"Sophie called!"
"Then at least take a look at the young guy."
"Uhm," I groaned, glancing from afar. "Okay, got it. I'm leaving."
Honestly, I couldn't even get a glimpse of his face—all I saw was someone in a designer black suit.
"Send the pic," I called as I ran out of the house.
"Do you think she'll pass the interview and get the job in New York?" Mom asked, looking worried.
"Of course. Alva is smart and—"
"Mom, I'm back," Brian said from outside. "Where's Alva going in such a rush—" He froze at the sight of the women. "Hello, Aunt Lizzy and uh… uh…"
Mom, help me out, was written all over his dark brown eyes.
Emily, Mom said telepathically, but Brian was too dense to understand.
"I'm Emily. And you are?" she said, noticing the failed telepathy.
"I'm Brian," he replied. "Mom…" he started again, but Emily and Lizzy's stares shut him up. He quickly dashed upstairs with a smile on his handsome face.
———
In a Café...
What's going on today? Why is there such a crowd? Is it free or a discount?
"Sophie!" I called out to my crazy best friend.
Where could she be now?
"Sophie!!!" I yelled in frustration. The café went silent, making me feel dumb. "Sorry."
"What's wrong with her?"
"Sorry," I repeated, embarrassed.
Sophie, you're dead.
"Hey, can I have two bottles of bourbon?"
Sophie?! Why is she buying bourbon? Did she and Kyle have a fight?
Something must be wrong.
"Hey, welcome Kyle. Come sit with me, buddy."
"Kyle, come here," Sophie waved. "Kyle, why aren't you responding…?"
"Uh, hell no. I'm not your Kyle—it's Alva."
"Oh!" she sighed, slightly dropping her head to the table.
Is she not happy to see me?
"Why did you call me if you wanted to get drunk, huh?" I asked.
"Did I call you?" she asked like a dummy. She held her phone in her right hand and squinted to check it, but it slipped from her grasp. "Oops."
"Hey, Sophie," I squatted down, picking up her phone. "I told you to stop getting drunk whenever you and Kyle break up."
"Kyle, stop getting worried about me. I'm no longer a kid—I'm twenty-two."