The Longest Year of My Life

Good or Bad Thing

Ughh! This chapter is going to take a long time, I already know! So I ask that if this is a little late, forgive me!
But enjoy!
———

Felipe's point of view

I finally find Claudia's dorm and gently knock on the door. She probably doesn't want to see nor talk to me, but I have to try.

She opens the door, "Hey."

"Hey," I say quietly, "I just wanted to apologize-"

"It's okay," she puts her hand out, "I get it."

"Okay," I say, "thanks."

"Come in," she says and I enter.

She sits on her bed but I just sit on her spiny chair next to her desk, "Colleen dropped by maybe fifteen minutes ago, Angelo told her what happened."

"What did she say?" I ask.

"To figure my shit out before I start to have a shitty attitude," she explains, "And that maybe somethings are my fault."

"Let me guess, you admitted to none of those statements." I say and roll my eyes.

"I did," she scoffs.

"And?" I start, "what did you say?"

"I agreed and remember that me getting pregnant wasn't my fault if you just had a condom," she scoffs.

"You're not gonna let that go, huh?" I scoff.

"It's kinda funny at this point," she laughs.

"I'm glad to see you smiling," I roll my eyes.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for going off on you," she apologizes.

"It's fine," I say, "I trusted your brother before you."

"Yeah, I wouldn't do that." She nods.

We remain in awkward silence for a few moments, very awkward. "You can sit next to me, you know? We're not on a strike."

"Oh, thank god," I say and sit next to her.

She rests her head on my shoulder, "what are we gonna do? Now that we aren't mad at each other."

"We don't have to tell our parents right away, they can find that out for themselves." I say, "but we can find a cheap place to live."

"If you're willing to rob a bank," she laughs quietly.

"Yeah," I nod, "wouldn't be hard though."

"No, Felipe," she stops me from further planning.

"I'm kidding," I laugh.

"But how are we gonna get the money for that? We get paid only enough to feed us, or a least I do. You have food to eat at home, you just work to have money, you overachiever." She laughs.

"There's at least, 25,000 euros in my bank account now, and that's working three jobs," I sigh.

"I thought you only worked one," she says.

"No. There's the sugar beet farm, a paid internship at the law firm that pays more than two hours working at the sugar beet farm. And then I worked at a restaurant for a bit," I explain.

"Whoa, now I think that you created the word 'overachiever'" she sighs.

"That'll be enough for literally the smallest apartment on the island." I groan.

"It's hopeless," she sighs, "maybe a go-fund-me would be our best option."

"How much money do you think you'll get from that?" I laugh.