SCARLET MEETS MILA

1

Mila James

Having a little sister is hard.

Being a mother to your little sister is harder.

Maisie abandons her sparkly backpack beside my feet when noticing her friends in the schoolyard ahead. She sprints like an athlete towards them, snagging her freshly braided hair on an extended tree branch along the way.

We're early, finally. For the past few weeks, I struggled to get her here before story time. Nobody tells you how hard it is to put socks on a wiggly seven-year-old. Telling her to sit still is like telling a fire not to burn. I scoop up her tattered backpack from the floor and brush the gravel from the bottom.

Skylar and her group of girlfriends are staring at me as per usual, scrutinising my youth as if I really want to be stood tightening a Barbie water-bottle at eight o'clock in the morning.

I scan the yard for the busy seven-year-old and sigh, digging deep within her backpack to see if I remembered to pack a spare pair of tights after yesterday's scuffed knee incident. Unfortunately, I haven't.

"Maisie!" she lifts her head from the grass, rolling around with green stains on the back of her white shirt. "Come here, I need to talk to you"

Her run is lazy now. "I'm coming!" her fingers fly to the pink bottle in my hand, swallowing mouthfuls of cold water with dramatic gulps that spill down the centre of her chin and onto her shirt.

"Take your things. I really need to go." I check the time on my phone, hoping not to be late for my interview. "Your lunch is in the bag and your sweater is underneath, ok?"

"You're not taking me inside?" Maisie pouts with a tiny groan, fluttering her long lashes in aims to make me feel guilty. It's working. I shake my head and kneel to meet her gaze. "I can't today. I have to meet somebody in twenty minutes." The spark in her eyes disperses, and I reach to lift her chin. "I'll be here to pick you up after school. Be good, ok?"

A confident smile creeps across her lips. "I'm always good, silly"

"I know you are." I give her a kiss on the forehead. "Go on, go inside"

She grabs the straps of her backpack, holding onto them tightly with a toothy smile before running towards the yard for a second time. She meets her bubbly teacher somewhere in the middle and throws her arms out to give her a hug.

Part of me hates this moment, seeing her embrace an older woman. I wonder, does she crave it? A mature lady in a pretty skirt, nurturing and in control. Does she wish Miss Harding lived with us? Does she want her to read her bedtime stories instead of me?

I shake my head and shove a tangled headphone into my ear. Music always helps to soothe my anxiety, and right now, I've got plenty of it. My interview is in exactly twenty minutes and I couldn't be less prepared.

Maisie told me I was going to do great. She's positive that I'll get the job before I even open my mouth. I'm not so sure, however. See, interviews are easy. You walk in with a sweet smile and answer questions with an air of confidence. Providing you're not some wack job killer, or an unhygienic slob, the chances of messing up are pretty slim.

I'm not sure the same rules apply when you land an interview at a company owned by none other than the famous Scarlet Ramirez.

I remember the first time I saw Scarlet on tv, I almost spat out my spaghetti and choked on a meatball. The knot in my stomach when hearing of her self built empire is yet to untangle, and the sight of her perfectly painted makeup still burns in the back of my mind.

I guess it shocked me to learn that someone so young was doing so well. Her reputation in the media proving just how much she has evolved past a teenager. Her success makes me feel sick, we're the same age, yet all I have to show for myself is a box full of sketch books that nobody has ever seen.

It may seem a little backward, interviewing for Ramirez Fashion considering my lack of experience, but I'm only hoping to work in the accounting department for some extra cash. There's no way I'd run into her, and hopefully, no way she'd know I was there. I'm sure she has more important things to do than check on the paper shredders twenty floors down from her luxurious office.

Still, I feel uneasy all the same.