Crossing Borders

Prologue

"Rejected"

The word shone with red letters on my job application, this is my third rejection letter this week, and I'm growing tired.

My visa expires in exactly one month, and if I don't get myself together by then and find a decent job with a decent salary, I'm going to be deported back to my home country; Egypt. It's not that I hate it there, after all, all my family members live there, and it's where I grew up, but the chances of success I have here in the states to become a successful published author tremendously outweigh the ones I have there.

When they told me I have to find a job right after graduation so I can stay here, I took it lightly. You'd think a girl with a double major in English Literature and Educational Studies wouldn't struggle to find a job that would offer her a working visa. Needless to say, I was wrong.

Working as a minimum wage waitress at The Bean, a book café, was enough for me to afford life's basic necessities, but it wasn't enough to save me from being kicked out of the country.

The job application in my hand was like yet another slap across the face, it seemed like hope was wearing thin, and I was out of options.

Get yourself together Layla, you've sent four more applications, stop being so pessimistic, surely any of them would see that you're talented and hire you!
The tap of thin fingers on my back awoke me from my reverie, I turned my head to see a petite girl with long hair and a soft voice.

"Can you please help me find this book?" She said shyly, showing me a picture on her phone.

I answered with a smile. "Sure" and assisted her.
One of the -very- few joys I have in life is my job in The Bean, reading brings me comfort, and being surrounded by books soothes me, the smell of coffee mixed with paper and ink, old and new, takes me away from all the problems that engulf me when I walk out this place. Unfortunately, it isn't enough to make me live a decent, luxurious life.

But I still love it.

I've met some wonderful people as well. One being the old man walking through the door at this moment. Mr Rich was a tall, thin man with white hair, his smile was bright and he had crinkles beside his eyes, he came to the The Bean quite often, for he enjoyed the same kind of peace and tranquility I found here. Mr Rich was also, as his name insinuated, very wealthy. He has more cars and houses than almost anyone else in the city, and I'm pretty sure his wealth could feed his great great  grandchildren, even if none of them or their parents worked a day in their lives.

With all that, he was the most humble, generous, easygoing person in the world, everyone loved him. He didn't go around parading his money and making everyone feel worthless beside him, quite the contrary. He was everyone's go-to person when they needed help or consolation.

"Good morning Mr Rich," I chirped, "looking very dashing today."

"Hello Layla." He started in his husky voice, "I remember quite vividly telling you multiple times to call me Walker."

"Ah, but I come from a family where respecting the elders is very important, and if they knew I called you by your first name, they might kick me out of their lives." My reply earned me a laugh.

"How are you my dear?"

"I'm perfect, going through some adult world trouble, but I'm pulling through." He knew I was lying, he always reminded me of my father, seeing right through me. "How's Dimah? Has she had a pre-wedding breakdown yet?" I asked, referring to his eldest daughter.

"All the time, she's very stressed about it. But I know she'll be happy, she loves Noah very much, you see. When all of this is over, she'll have the chance to enjoy her new life with her husband."

"I'm sure she will." I replied with a small smile.

I excused myself from Mr Rich's presence and left him in peace to read his favourite book. He looked distressed about something, but I knew it wasn't my business to ask. I went to organise some books, but minutes later, my concentration shifted to something else, when a guy came in with a girl, and they were loud, and didn't seem to care very much about reading or getting coffee.
Remember how I said I loved my job? There were few things that made me rethink that love; Karens, and couples who came to hide between the bookshelves, thinking we can't hear or see them.

I sighed before making my way towards them, to stop them before they start, sighing as I recognized the boy's face as someone who has been making my life miserable for the last few years. He looked up at me and smirked, that awful sight, when I was interrupted by another scene. Mr Rich was getting up from his seat and headed towards the couple. When the boy spotted him, his loud laughing was silenced and his eyes widened. If looks could kill, the boy would've been in a body bag.

The whole library turned towards the booming voice coming from his mouth, hearing sentences ranging from "always so irresponsible." And "disgrace to our family name." Coupled with "when will you grow up like your siblings."
I was planted in my place, but I woke myself up from my trans to help calm the situation, and I ran towards them. "Please calm down Mr Rich, you don't want to regret anything you say right now." I pleaded.

"You know how you'll stop playing around? You need to get married, and start a family, and that's my final word. You're marrying Hannah, and you're not allowed a say in the issue, that's it mister! I will not allow you to continue to cover our family name in dirt!" He continued, not seeming to hear me. So I took another route to end the situation.

"Leave!" I shouted at the boy and his 'girlfriend', and they didn't need to hear it twice.

I sat Mr Rich back down in his chair, and got him a cup of water. And when he finally cooled down, he started talking, with misery and helplessness lacing every word he's saying.

"That was my son" he started, and I pretended I didn't know and let him continue, "he's very irresponsible. He barely passed college, he's not even trying to learn the nature of the family business for when it's his turn to hold the reins. And these days, he's been acting up even more than usual, it's like he's trying to anger me." His words sounded very desperate.

"It's okay Mr Rich, he's young, give him time."

"He's older than you are, and you seem twice as well-collected and responsible than he'll ever be"

I pressed my lips together. He doesn't need to know that I had to grow up fast, with the nature of issues that me and my family have faced.

"I'm sorry I've burdened you with all this, it's just that he doesn't understand where the good lies for him, and he refuses to listen to anyone who'll tell him to do anything besides 'living his life'." He started again, "I have to go home, I think I need to rest."

I helped him up and walked him outside the doors  to where his chauffeur was waiting, and I watched his black car become a black dot as it went further and further down the road.

"When will you stop sucking up to my Dad like that, Layla." I heard the voice coming from behind me. I turned around to find his face with the usual smirk plastered on it. Ugh how much I hate him.

"Is that a thank you for keeping your father from killing you? It sure seemed you were scared of him." I clapped back.

"Trust me, if you knew the real face behind the mask, you'd be scared too."

"Oh shut up, he's the sweetest guy, you're just angry that he cut you off from the trust fund because you're acting like a child, which, then again, is not a surprise. Your behaviour hasn't exactly changed much since college." I smiled innocently.

He rolled his eyes and started walking away from me. "Bye, Layla."

I rolled my own eyes at his retreating figure before going back inside.

Adam Rich, our college's token 'bad boy', whatever that is. During our time in college together, he sure knew how to make my life a living hell. It all started that night at the diner, where we got into a fight that would be the first of many to come.

I was snapped back to reality from that small moment of humor, realizing how much of an issue I'm facing when I saw my rejected application again on my desk.