Chasing Winter

Chapter 7

**WINTER'S P.O.V**

I hang up with Zayn and catch my breath. Woah, I think, That was close. I had never really dated anyone that I felt strongly about. Most of them were tools or jerks. But Zayn... Zayn was different. He meant something to me. He made me feel special when I know all too well that I wasn't. I was just an average blonde girl that he could find anywhere else. Why would he pick me? I go to the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. I look for something about me that's unique and find nothing. Just a plain, blonde, white girl. Nothing special here. But the way Zayn looked at me when I ran into him... Was a look I've never received from anyone. It was the type of look that makes your heart soar and the butterflies in your stomach go wild. I smile at myself in the mirror and walk out. He would make an impact on my life and I knew it all too well. I was falling hard and fast, but in that moment, I didn't care.

I go down the stairs and into the kitchen. I look at the time on the oven and see that I still have an hour before my new job interview. I go into the fridge and look around inside. I pull out the whole milk and set it on the counter. I open the pantry to find my Coco Roos where I had left them and take them out of their hiding spot. I set it down next to the milk and grab a bowl from the dish drying rack. I pour in my cereal and milk and put the two back where they belong. I grab a spoon from the drawer in front of my hips and make the lonely journey to the empty, 4-seated table. I eat alone in the silence with just the crunching of cereal in my mouth keeping me company. I start to remember all of the good times I had here with my parents, eating with them and playing board games with them on family night. I shake my head to clear the thoughts and finish my breakfast. I grab my phone, purse, portfolio, and keys and head out the door that leads to the garage. I shut it behind me and get inside the over expensive red BMW that my parents had bought me for my 16th birthday. I open the garage door with a click of the little remote I have attached to bring-down mirror and reverse out of my driveway.

I ride through the city of Manchester and arrive at a tall building in the heart of the city. I say a quiet prayer to myself before grabbing my portfolio and going inside the building. A vast opening with a receptionist's desk in the middle is what unfolds in front of me.

"Wow," I catch myself whisper in awe.

I had never been in a building like this before. I was born and raised in a small town with parents who worked small jobs. I take it in and happily walk to the desk. I ring the little silver bell with a tap of my finger and the woman sitting at the desk looks up at me.

"Name?" She asks, turning to her computer and putting on her reading glasses that dangle from her neck.

She's an old woman, possibly in her 50s, and she wears a black women's blazer over a black shirt. Pinned to her shirt is a golden name tag with the name "Laura" carefully engraved into it.

"Winter Greene," I answer sweetly.

Her old hands type my name quickly and she hits the enter button, "Ah, yes, the graphic designer? You have an appointment for an interview this morning for 11:30am, is that correct?"

"Yes ma'am," I confirm.

"She'll be with you in just a moment, honey. For now please take a seat while you wait," she says, pointing to a few black chairs pushed up against a wall to the side.

I turn my head to look at them and return my gaze to her, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she responds with a smile.

I do as she said and take a seat. It's not long before my name is called by another woman across the room. I walk towards her with my portfolio gripped tightly in my right hand. We greet each other with a firm handshake and a few kind words. She looks to be in her 30s and not as well dressed as the woman sitting at the desk. She also has a small, golden name tag pinned to her shirt and it reads the name "Kathy." She has brown hair and brown eyes and a flawless complexion. She leads me down the hallway to a door that opens to her office. She tells me to take a seat in the black leathered chair in front of the desk and she sits in another on the other side. She slides her chair forward so she's comfortable and starts shooting me questions. I counter with answers that I had practiced on for days. Before I know it I'm already shaking her hand in farewell and standing.