Second Chance | EDITING

❆Second Chance (01)

~J A C K S O N~

HIGH SCHOOL HAD ALWAYS BEEN A VERY TOLERANT PLACE. I was popular, innovative, and got all the girls. I was the quarterback and captain; I had everything and cared for that lifestyle. I did, but who knew adult life brings way more stories?

In high school, I always acted out as a player, the guy who just drank, smoked, and slept with erratic girls. That was how my high school livelihood ended.

I got everything, except one.

I never got to be with the girl I loved. Lily, that attractive girl who never spared me a glance when we crossed paths. The girl who wasn't interested in football and was never fond of the players.

Never liked me.

I've tried to, but never understood why she would say no. She wouldn't tell me why she would always reject me, but on the last day of high school, the very last day, she clarified why she would never go out with me.

"You aren't exactly someone I'd go for. You are someone who practically breathes on girls; you live for them, so where would I fit in?"

Her words have been living rent-free in my mind, never once leaving. I've been tormented by it, to say the least, but I read up on my lesson.

"Jack, are you sure you want to do this? It could change everything!" My best friend Austin howls over the loud music pouring through the speakers.

"Just restart the damn game!" I howl right back, rolling my eyes.

We are currently in our living room playing video games. The game is freezing, and if we restart, we lose all the points we just achieved, but I couldn't care less.

I have to be back at the bookstore in an hour, and luckily, I'm dressed finely and warm enough. I won't have to leave the game now and wash up.

I watch Austin restart the set, my fingers itching to play a good game. Just then, my phone starts ringing. I fish my phone out, urging Austin to make the music soft.

When it is, I check the caller ID and raise my brow as Linda's name appears on my screen. Linda is the supervisor of my bookstore and helps with almost everything. She has been a family friend for eight years, going on nine. Linda and I are close through my dad. She said she would take care of most things, and right now, we are short on staff.

We need at least two more hires, and then we will be decent. I answer the phone, and when I do, I don't get a chance to greet before Linda starts talking.

"Hey Jackson, there are a few people you need to interview. The problem is, they don't want me, they want you." Linda says, her usual businesslike voice attacking me with a visible groan.

I sigh with a nod, "I'll be there in twenty."

After a few more instructions and explanations of how the store runs without me, I apologize to Austin before grabbing my keys, wallet, and phone and heading for the door.

When I get out, it's freezing, and goosebumps spread across my skin.

I swab the little snow off my car and enter my Ford Mustang. I sigh in contentment with a grin. This 1964 classic has been my baby for one and a half years, and I love it.

Though it's not new, I fixed it to my liking, which is why I like it.

Driving out of the driveway, I make my way to the bookstore, which is only fifteen minutes away. When I get there, the bookstore stands straight and tall, just like my dad did when he welcomed his very first thirteen customers.

Walking to the front, I admire the beige and dark brown door, which is glittered with white particles of snow. The door is there as if a dream had become strong, as if it had developed on the hinges and bloomed into a solace tint.