Fake It Till You Make It

2.

Dear Ms. Shadid,

We have been impressed with your background and would like to formally offer you the position of Nutritionist. This is a part-time position from Monday till Sunday.

We would like to have a meeting with you tomorrow at noon at the Vasilios mansion and discuss your salary and other benefits. In the meantime, please feel free to contact me via email, should you have any questions.

We are all looking forward to having you on our team.

Best regards,

Madeleine Schwartz

"No," I uttered, feeling overwhelmed by the situation. This couldn't be real. It had to be some kind of joke. Please let it be a joke.

"Yes!!" Ava squealed, squeezing me tightly from the side. "It worked! You got the job!"

The excitement in her voice confirmed that this was indeed happening. It wasn't a joke or a dream. It was reality sinking in.

"This is not good, Ava," I sighed, rereading the email for the fifth time. Each time, the reality of the situation seemed to sink in a little deeper. "Where is the Vasilios Mansion anyway? I've never heard of it before."

"The Vasilios Mansion is in Manchester, close to the club where Milan plays. It's an hour's drive from here," Ava explained, grabbing her laptop back from me. "I've heard he lives there alone and has a different girl over every weekend."

"An hour's drive?" My eyes widened in disbelief. The distance seemed daunting. How would I manage the commute?

"You can use my car. I can take the bus to school," Ava suggested casually, as if it were the simplest solution in the world.

"It's your car, Ava. I can't just take it," I replied, feeling conflicted. It didn't seem fair to burden her with public transportation while I used her car for work.

She gave me an incredulous look. "What do you mean you can't take it? There's nothing wrong with my car. If it helps you succeed in your job, why wouldn't you use it?"

I scratched the back of my head, contemplating her offer. "I don't know, it just doesn't feel right. I don't think I should accept the job. The commute is too far."

Ava let out a sigh and powered off her laptop. "Will you at least give it a try? Go tomorrow and see if you like the salary and the environment. I've already offered you my car."

"I appreciate it, Ava, but it's too much," I protested, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. She had already done so much for me, and it didn't sit well with me to take advantage of her generosity.

"It's not too much. We're both striving to succeed in life. You've always been there for me, helping me with my essays and assignments. Now it's my turn to support you in whatever you need," Ava said with conviction.

In that moment, I couldn't help but feel incredibly fortunate to have Ava as my best friend. We had been through so much together, both the highs and the lows. We had shared tears and laughter, and even accidentally shared a boyfriend at one point. From the moment I met Ava, I knew she would be my maid of honor and the godmother to my future child. She was a true friend, always there to lend a helping hand and offer support.

"I'm going to cry," I sniffed, hugging her tightly. "Even though you do dumb shit on the regular, I wouldn't replace you for the world."

She laughed and stroke my back. "Don't cry, I don't know what to do when you're crying. You know I'm just going to stare at you."

I chuckled. "Always so bad with comforting others."

"Are we going to order butter chicken for dinner?" she asked.

"We had that three days ago," I said, "Maybe I can make dinner tonight."

Ava looked at me, eyes twinkling. "Really? What are you going to make?"

"Stir fry vegetables with chicken and mashed potatoes, does that sound good?" I have never in my life made that dish, but it sounded easy in my head. Besides, my mom used to make that on her lazy days and I used to watch her work her magic in the kitchen. But that was years ago.

"I'll help you with the mash potatoes. You can do the chicken and vegetables."

With that being said we headed to the kitchen to make our dinner. This was the first time we will make dinner ever since her parents left. "Can I use your laptop for the recipe?" I asked.

"Use your phone for the recipe and use my laptop for the cooking tutorial," Ava said, handing me my phone. I quickly googled the recipe and gathered the ingredients.

I started with making the sauce. That's what google said anyway. I grabbed a medium-size bowl and whisked together corn starch and water. I added chicken broth, soy sauce, honey, toasted sesame oil, and red pepper flakes and whisked them together. After I was done with the sauce I put it aside and started with the chicken and vegetables.

I added one tablespoon of olive oil to a large skillet and then the chicken which I seasoned with salt and pepper. I then throw in the broccoli, bell pepper, and carrots, cooking and stirring it occasionally, just until it was crisp-tender.

"How long do I need to leave the chicken in? It doesn't say," I looked over at Ava who was busy peeling the potatoes. "Are you done with the potatoes? You should add some salt."

"You should leave it until it's golden brown," Ava said as she mashed the potatoes together. "I'll set the table."

I nodded my head and stirred the chicken and vegetables together. "It smells kinda funny," I told her. I was still stirring it. "Is it suppose to smell like this?"

"It smells good to me," Ava answered. I watched her sprinkle salt on the mashed potatoes. "I think it's supposed to smell like that."

"I think it's ready," I poked into the chicken after a minute of watching it cook. "The chicken looks brown and I don't want to burn it."

"If you think it's ready, it's ready. You're going to be Mr. Vasilios's nutritionist so I fully trust you." she smiled at me. I grabbed our plates and scooped up some vegetables and chicken. It did look good though. A ten for presentation.

We sat at the kitchen table and took our first bite, which we immediately spit out.

"It's sweet!"

"It's raw!"

Ava and I looked at each other disgustedly. "The potatoes are sweet. Did you put sugar in it?" I asked as I got up to throw it away.

"The chicken is still alive," she said, following me. "Which one is the sugar and salt anyway, they look the same."

"I thought the chicken was done. How do I know if it's done?" I placed my plate in the sink and let out a deep sigh. "I told you I will not make a good nutritionist."

"Don't give up. Watch youtube for cooking tutorials. I mean this is your first time, it will not be perfect."

"I fed you raw chicken," I told her.

"I like my meat raw."

"Can you not make these jokes in the middle of a crisis?"

Ava laughed. "Is it too late to order butter chicken?"

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