MAYA, a girl who goes through life with an unwavering smile-around other people that is. While juggling four jobs to support her father and a side hobby of modelling, Maya is rarely at home-to her content. Even through the mental and physical turmoi...
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"YOU SERIOUSLY GONNA do this?" Micah scoffs.
I didn't have a shift today, but I found myself with a spare hour and a half, and going home just wasn't appealing. So, I lent a hand around here. My brief respite has vanished, and now I'm explaining to Micah why I have to go.
"Why not?" I retort.
"Because..." He glances at the sparse patrons at the bar, "you know why."
"I've got cancer. Big deal. I'm doing fine," I grin, gesturing at myself.
The truth is, I'm not. Accepting my impending death has been a tug-of-war.
On one hand, I'm not thrilled about being here anyway. It'd mean no more dealing with Dad or Stefan, no more loneliness, just peaceful sleep forever. That's pretty much the only part of my life I enjoy anyway.
But on the other hand, there's so much I haven't experienced yet. I haven't been to Greece, haven't seen Warrent in concert... Sure, realistically, I might not have done those things in my lifetime anyway, but it feels too soon to let go.
Micah's gaze softens, like he's peering into my soul. "Maya-"
"So I'm dying," I cut him off, "So what? Should I stop doing the things that make me happy?"
"You found out yesterday. Maybe take some time to process," he suggests, shrugging.
"I have," I nod. "And now that I have, I want to slip into some sexy underwear and strut down a runway. Are you in or not?"
He sighs, "Well, if you're hell-bent on it, I can't let you model alone without someone cheering you on from the audience, can I?"
"I wouldn't be alone," I protest, crossing my arms.
He tilts his head, deadpan. "You don't have other friends."
I gasp dramatically, clutching my heart, "That's not true!"
"Name one."
"Nisha," I reply, a smug smile playing on my lips. We've had lunch a few times, and she moved her locker near mine.
Granted, I keep our conversations shallow, sticking to small talk. She doesn't even know my full name, but she's nice.
"Does Nisha even know you model?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.
