"Define success on you own terms, achieve it by your own rules, and build a life you're proud to live." -Anne Sweeney
~Michelle~
"Quinn, get up! Today's the day we actually need to do something." I knock impatiently on Quinn's door.
"I don't want tooooooo." He groans and complains back to me.
"Come on! You have a job interview!!" I yell right against the door, making sure he heard.
"Nah, just a few more minutes?" He asks innocently.
"Nope, not falling for THAT again. You said that an hour ago." I wait patiently.
"Pleaseeeeee?" Quinn manages to sputter out.
"Okay, you asked for it!" I warn, and barge in the room I used to call mine. I find Quinn cuddling against the dog pillow, hugging it as if it were an actually person. He wears some boxer shorts with no shirt, his face smashed into the pillow next to him.
I slam the lights on, every single one, and Quinn rolls over onto his muscular back, revealing a 6-pac of perfectly shaped abs. I chuck the closest pillow I could find at him, which turns out to be a princess one, and it smacks him in the face.
"Why you gotta be so rude, don't you know I'm human, too?" Quinn starts singing with his groggy voice, then rolling back into the huddle of stacked pillows, he yawns.
He gets out eventually, after I drag out all of the pillows. The warmed coffee mug in my dainty hands forms at heart with the cream. I smile gently, and slide down my long sleeves of my blue sweater, a couple of spare strings springing off to the sides.
I think I might want to be a lawyer. I ponder in my head. My parents were both very intelligent, maybe I can gain some of their skills? Not all famous people just have to be models.
Before I know it, we're on the way to the Disney store, where Quinn finally decided he wanted to work. Well, almost on the way, if Quinn wasn't taking so long to find his toothbrush.
"Hurrrrry upppppppp!" I whine.
"Sorry but I need to brush my teeth! Where did it go? It was right here yester-" He looks down at his hand. "No, not again!" He says as he finds his tooth brush being gripped firmly in his right hand.
"What a great problem solver. You're going to be the next Sherlock Holmes, I can see it now in the papers: New Boy in New York Finds Bank Robber and Saves the World." I laugh at my own joke, and Quinn face-palms forgetting his tooth brush is in his mouth. This results in Quinn's old, green toothbrush flinging across the room, landing on the fan.
"Well, I needed a new one anyway." Quinn shrugs.
Buzz!
My phone buzzes slightly in my back pocket. I grab it. 9:46
"Oh crap, Quinn we have 30 minutes to get to the interview! It starts at 10:30 but you have to get there early. Hurry, hurry, hurry!" I practically push him out the doorway.
We're halfway down the elevator, when...
"I FORGOT MY SHOES!!" Quinn shouts, and I jump back.
"How do you forget your shoes?!?" I say, half giggling, half serious. We rush back to the room all while still laughing hysterically.
Soon enough, we're back in the elevator, this time, with Quinn's shoes.
"Why do you want to work at the Disney store anyway?" I asked him, curiosity taking over.
"Disney is one of those things that gives you hope. It always makes me cheerful and it inspires me to reach my dreams." He said without thinking. "Okay that was REALLY cheesy, sorry." His cheeks turn the slightest shade of red.
"Aww, no not at all! It's great to see someone talk about something they're really compassionate about."
"I'm NOT compassionate about it-"
"Yeah, yeah whatever you say." I laugh to myself.
Ding, the elevator stops and we walk to the sidewalk to find a cab.
"But, you know, if I work there, I can also sneak out some amazing Disney movies and souvenirs!" He adds, making up for his "cheesy" answer previously. His veins on his arms and forehead bump out, his face deep in thought.
"Oh my god, do you know how much trouble you'll get in?" I reply, not knowing he would do that. I saw him more as a goody two shoes, but again, that's just a stereotype, a habit I really need to break.
"Hey, you love Disney! You're not going to argue, are you? I know you want more stuff there. Like all the Minnie Mouse merchandise, and that one Winnie the Pooh handbag." He smirks, and I laugh. He already knows so much about me, I think, then totally disagreeing because I'm a very confusing person.
"Hmm, maybe?" I say, not wanting him to win the conversation. I try to keep my face serious, but can't help breaking into a grin.
"Competitive much? Admit it, I'm right, you're wrong. Oh no!" He pretends to wipe a tear off his cheek, and I roll my eyes jokingly.
"I'm not being competitive, I'm just being," I pause. "Competitive. It's not a way to describe me, it's a lifestyle!"
"Hmm yeah, yeah have fun with your 'lifestyle'. Be careful when you start to lose important things." Quinn says jokingly. I look down and tuck a strand of brown flyaway hair behind my ear, reminded of losing my parents.
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry, I forgot!" Quinn pleads, worry glazing his eyes.
"No, no it's totally okay." I reply after awhile, beginning to think of my future rather than my past.
We roll up to the Disney store after waiting in traffic for 15 minutes, and we hurry to get inside.
Okay, pretend you weren't here yesterday lying on the floor laughing. Strut in there like you own the place. Be like Rihanna, walking over everything in heels and not falling EVER. I think to myself, hopeful that Quinn will get a job, even if it's a really small one.
Of course, being the clumsy person I am, I strut onto the sidewalk and almost arrive to the door when boom, I trip over a slight crack in the sidewalk. Why does this have to happen every time I try to do something right?
I fall onto the wet pavement, puddled from the drizzle last night. Dampness soaks through my jean shorts and the bottom of my sky blue sweater from J Crew. Quinn is quick to lift me up bridal style, and he carries me through the doors. Right away, he sees the manager and sets me down.
I really hope Quinn gets the job. Everyone views the world differently, but reality is what you make it, that's why I've always hoped for the best and prepared for the worst. Well almost always. Like in third grade when Lindsay Sparker spread a rumor that I wet the bed every night, I acted as nonchalantly as my third grader self possibly could. Or in seventh grade when my whole school recognized me as the "snobby rich girl", yet none of them took time to actually get to know me. And of course, in ninth grade when I had my first boyfriend, Josh Gadger, when everyone filled my head with horrifying thoughts about his past and I kept turning my cheek against them. Turns out they were right all along, but that's not the point.
It's strange to think that people might not see the same colors as you, an orange to them could be your green. So as Quinn disappeared through the double doors, I hoped the manager saw Quinn's brightest colors, and the way they burst out his glowing eyes, and flow out of his smile, and fade into other people.
________________
Hey everyone, sorry to have you wait so long, I've been super busy this summer, but I'll keep it updated more often.
I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and I'm always happy to get any advice! Thanks for reading,
~Sydney~
YOU ARE READING
Uncertain
Teen FictionMichelle was always a goody two shoes, and did exactly what her parents told her. Now, when her mother and father die, she isn't sure what to do. She goes to New York to find something, she doesn't know what, but she knows she'll find something. Qui...
