In the morning my parents made sure they woke me up early so I'd be on time for my appointment with Regina, yay. On the short drive I listened to "Valerie" by the Weeknd, I don't know but that song always makes me feel prepared for anything. I stepped out of the car, and I entered the building, it was actually a nice one, like the ones you see on tumblr hoping you can work there some day.
I find myself in a dull room (Note to self: don't judge a building by it's exterior), with two lounge chairs, a desk full of documents and behind that desk was the person I never wanted to be sitting in front of during my trip to New York, Regina Atwell.
"Good Morning Jodie, have a seat" She said with a broad smile.
Jeez, I hated her already, her trying to be optimistic when she knows by the end of this session she'd probably be in a bar complaining about how awful her job is.
"Morning" I mumbled, as I slouched into the lounge chair.
She talked, but I was far too distracted by the grey clock (hoping these 45 minutes will end), to pay attention to anything else she had to say.
"Jodie, I am here to help you..." Regina said. That was the only thing I can recall her saying for the past twenty minutes. Complete, bullshit.
"I don't need help, I'm fine!" I protested.
Regina slightly tapped her desk and wrote something, I didn't know what it was but I was sort of interested. My interest was disturbed when I was jumped by an alarm, time to get the hell out of here.
YOU ARE READING
It's All My Fault
Teen FictionJodie, a sixteen year old who lives in a small town finally as a given opportunity to go travel in the big city of New York. Most people have wishes of going there and experiencing the fun, but she doesn't. She doesn't even want to hear her mother...
