Dead Ends // Hugh Jackman

Chapter 5

A couple weeks have gone by since I started volunteering. I've gotten closer with the others, more so with Avi. We've become fast friends as unusual as that is for me. Carlos was also right. Volunteering has helped me get past my writer's block. I haven't written this well or so much in a really long time.

I'm so close to finishing the novel I'm on. All that's left is the epilogue, but I've been putting it off for three days now. Completing it means that all this hard work and change was worth it. I know the sense of accomplishment will make me giddy. I'm just hesitant that once it's all done, I'm not going to know what to do next.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts by Presly after our Saturday afternoon session.

"Come on, let's go, people!" He taps Carlos' shoulders, moving onto to Ruth and clasping her hand to tug her to the exit.

Ruth groans. "It's too early to be this chipper."

"It's noon," Presly deadpans. "Normal people have lunch at this hour."

Avi laughs, coming to join the two by the door with an infectious grin. "I for one am starving."

"See?" Presly motions to Avi as proof to his previous statement.

Carlos stands next to me. We're at the desk cleaning up the extra papers and placing them all neatly into a single pile.

I think he's given up on me. He hasn't been making subtle comments or asking to walk me to my car for the past week. He doesn't glimpse in my direction every chance he gets. When he did, it was clear as day. I think he's realized that nothing will ever happen between us.

I've been doing everything I can to avoid being alone with him. That and I think the age gap has finally helped him make up his mind. He's technically still in his teens, and I'm close to being 30. Anything more the 5 years is too much. Even then, it's off-putting for me. I can't imagine being with anyone that much younger or older than me.

When I was a kid, my next door neighbors were 15 years apart in age. I would watch the husband push around his frail wife. His mind still worked, and he still had some pep in his step. She on the other hand, being that much older than him, was bound in a wheelchair.

I made a vow to myself right then that I wouldn't do that to my future spouse, if I ever got married and had a family. I want to grow old with my husband, so that the years between each other's deaths would be minimal. One would not be alone for too long without the other.

Carlos and I aren't that far apart but just knowing we're from different generations is enough off a deterrent for me.

Not that Carlos is at all my type. Don't get me wrong, he's definitely good looking. He's a decent height, probably around 5'10 or 5'11. He has mid-length, wavy, blond hair. Cerulean eyes that remind me of the ocean, and skin the color of untouched sand. By society's standards, he's statuesque. You know the kind that poses for magazines and advertisements.

I prefer a more rugged handsome. Beard and all. I tend to go for guys that are bigger than me too. I'm short, but I am by no means small. I have a curvy figure.

My last ex compared me to that of a pear, and he would call me as such. He didn't typically say it in an endearing manner. It was more condescending, constantly remarking that if had bigger boobs, I'd be perfect.

Needless to say, I didn't put up with him for very long after that.

"You ready to go?" Carlos nudged me with a finger.

I hummed, my thoughts still lingering elsewhere for a second. "Yeah."

We met up with the other three by the door, and then we were off. We had made plans to get lunch together. Mostly because Presly couldn't stop raving about the Music Man.