The Book Lover Project

The Job Offer (1)

Alora's POV

Denied.

Denied.

Denied.

Great, an extra 3 denied job applications to add to the accumulating list of rejections. Whoever told me getting a job would be easy was wrong. I'd like a formal handwritten apology.

I groan pitifully as I shut the screen to my laptop, I hope I never have to look at my emails ever again.

I opted to job hunt online, using sites online where they made it sound so simple.

'Just upload your cv' 'potential employers reach back in minutes' 'guaranteed jobs'

Let me tell you, employers do NOT get back in minutes and jobs are definitely not guaranteed.

The worst part. I don't even like any of the jobs I applied for. Personally I have no passion for handing out flyers in the mall, but I applied for it (and got denied for it) because it's still a job.

My feet dramatically stomp down the stairs of my echoey house in an effort to release some anger.

I guess that's a perk of your parents always being away, you can stomp down the stairs or slam a door a little louder than normal and not be told off, look on the bright side.

My parents are a tag team. My mom works as a flight attendant and my dad, well he's a pilot. Take a wild guess where they met. At work. And work is what they have continued to do after I came along.

Even now they are up in the sky on route to some new tropical destination. While I essentially house sit because now I'm 18 and old enough to be trusted in this big ol lonely house on my own.

Forcefully I grip on to the cupboard handle in order to find my favourite mug. It's a blue oversized mug with my name scrawled on the side of it in a pink heart.

I've had this mug since my 7th birthday. It was the first item I'd ever received with my name on it. And considering my name isn't common. Alora Meda Torres. I loved it. Though it only says my first name in bold black fancy calligraphy because I doubt they could fit that whole mouthful inside the pink heart. Glancing at the mug now it's kind of ugly, but I wouldn't dream of using anything else to drink my all time favourite drink. Hot chocolate.

Most people's preferred hot drink is tea or coffee. but I greatly despise the taste of caffeine, even more than I despised being forced to take French in 9th & 10th grade. For reference I only remember how to say Orange in french.

Orange.

My distaste for the 2 popular brown liquid substances from the devil coincidentally had begun on my 7th birthday. As soon as I saw my dearest personalised blue mug I wanted to drink something out of it, but I had insisted it be a 'big girl drink' and not water because in my eyes it was a 'big girl cup'.

Looking back it sounds like I was asking for vodka or any other option of alcohol. But luckily my parents knew what I wanted to try. Dreaded caffeine.

When my mom was home from work she always had a mug full of tea or coffee in the morning. So that's what I wanted too, now I had my cool new mug to drink from.

I was distraught when I first tried them and they tasted like what my 7 year old brain described as 'poison'. It can really ruin a child's confidence to know she wouldn't grow up to be like mommy and daddy and have their preferred beverage of choice. However after my miniature tantrum my dad had suggested I try hot chocolate. I never turned back.

After making my delicious drink I grip my mug in both of my hands and bring it up to my lips in order to savor the taste and rid my body of anger towards my lack of job. It wasn't that I needed money, I didn't. My parents worked good jobs and gave me what I needed. Nothing too over the top but always enough to look after the house and myself. But I was beginning to feel bad about asking for more than absolutely necessary and to be honest I'm starting to get a little lonely.