Begin [Ponyboy Curtis]

All the New

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Toxic Family Dynamic

[Playlist] For The Team - Prelow | What I Got - Sublime

I flopped onto my bed and left my room in a state of unpacked. With everything happening around me I wanted nothing more than to call my aunt.

The cool thing about the new house is I get my own phone in my bedroom. My aunt is usually pretty busy, being the first in our family to start and run her own business.

"Hullow?" Her cheery voice made me smile for the first time all day.

"Hey, it's Dot."

"Hey, Dotty!" I could hear shuffling on the other line. She was probably in her kitchen dinner prepping, "How's the new house?"

"It's cute, my room is nice..." I shrugged as if she could see me.

"I know you weren't too excited about Tulsa but I really think you'll like it there. You've never been afraid to try new things."

I sighed, "yeah I know."

She was right. New friends, new neighborhood, new restaurants, new activities. I was excited about all the new, just not the circumstances.

"I know you don't like her but it's only for a couple of years. Then you'll be able to move out and you won't have to worry about it anymore."

The "her" in question was my dad's new girlfriend- wife- whatever. He was entangled in her from the moment they met. Not safely in love with her, madly in love with her. Got married without telling me, in love with her. She's not really mother material. Not even stepmother material. Yet here she is, trying to parent me one day and acting like my spoiled sister the next.

"True... So I was watching for jobs near the house. They have a library, a gas station, a Dairy Queen, and what looks like a mom and pop restaurant."

"Ooh, the library sounds good for you."

I worked at a bookshop back in DC, but I found it unbearably boring, "I think I'm looking to branch out a bit."

"Restaurants are fine but everyone I've ever worked at has found a way to steal my hours or tips. Gas Stations are more straightforward."

I chewed on my lip and thought it over, "I'll probably aim for the gas station and work at the restaurants as a last resort."

The phone buzzed with the sound of running water, then a clatter, then my aunt cursing, "Uh, I gotta go, Love you!"

The line clicked, I laughed softly knowing she dropped her phone into her sink.

I lazily pushed myself off the bed before I could fall asleep. I wanted to get a routine down as soon as possible and to do that I'd need my work schedule.

I looked and smelled a little worse for wear. It was an unusually hot afternoon for the spring and we were moving boxes all day. In a ditch effort, I threw on a loose dress that came down to my midcalf, with a white t-shirt underneath. I covered the sweat smell with a new layer of deodorant and perfume.

"I'm going out for a bit!" I called into the house as I walked down the stairs but I was met with no response. "Dad? Stacey?" I looked out the front window and saw the car wasn't parked outside of the house anymore. Usually, I'd wait so that I could get permission to leave, but more often than not lately I found myself alone. I took the spare key off the counter and left.

The breeze had picked up and the sun was no longer highest in the sky. The newly cooled air was inviting and re-energized me for the walk.

"DX Auto repair and Gas Station," the worn sign read. A small bell jingled when I opened the door.

"You get it this time," A voice from a different room grumbled, "I'm busy."

The other person sighed loudly, "this is all Joan's fault."

A boy in a light blue shirt walked in, wiping his oily hands off on a rag, "Hi there."

"Hi," My eyes took a second to adjust to the new lighting, his features slowly drew out as I approached the counter. He was oddly gorgeous, like a movie star or something, "are you guys hiring?"

A smile spread across his face, "Cashier? Do you have any experience?"

"I worked at a bookshop back in DC, mostly cashier and stocking."

"Lucky for you, our current cashier no-call no-showed for the last time," he winked, "let me call up our manager, see if he'll meet ya."

"Sure thing," I nodded.

The boy picked up the wall phone, calling one of the numbers listed on a little note pad taped to the wall.

"Hey. Yeah, everything is fine. No, a girl came in looking to fill the cashier position. Uh-huh," he said in between pauses. Then looked over at me, "how old are you?"

"Just turned 15," I nodded.

"15." He repeated into the phone, "okay. Alright. Savvy. See you soon." He looked back at me, "Sodapop Curtis, nice to meet you."

"Dorthy Annafellows," I glanced at his name tag and we shook hands, "you too."

"So you're from DC. Washington?"

"Yeah, just moved here."

"And already hustling," he smiled leaning on the counter.

"Soda! Need a little help in here." The voice from the other room yelled out.

Sodapop handed me a sheet of paper, "here, fill this out. I'll be back." He sped back into the garage, "Comin, Steve!"

The application was fairly basic. Legal name, address, the such. By the time I finished a man walked in with a box under his arm.

"You here for the cashier position?"

"Yes sir," I nodded and held up my application. He led me to his office, lazily reading over the papers.

"From Washington?"

"Yes, sir."

"You military?"

"My mom's side was," I answered confused.

The manager looked me over for a moment then nodded, "I'll be honest with you kid, usually we go through a much more intense hirin' process, but we're a tad desperate. I'm going to take a shot in the dark. What's the earliest you can start?"

"Oh, I can start tomorrow if you need."

He pulled a calendar out of his desk, "These are the other cashiers' hours." Two other names were labeled with different colored pens. "Would you be able to take over the green hours?"

I looked over the sheet, realizing this would give me around 25 hours a week, "yeah, this is perfect."

"Great," He signed the application and scribbled out my hours on a small paper for me to take home. "Here's your shirt," he handed me a blue shirt like Sodapop's. "I'll get your nametag made over the weekend."

"Thank you, sir."

"Bobby," he held out his hand.

I shook it with a smile, "Thank you, Bobby."

I left the office, smiling at Sodapop. The door jingled again as I left the gas station. Outside there was a boy, probably my age, pumping gas. He looked over and waved at me.

I waved back, taking in a calming breath. My aunt was right, Tulsa is not that bad.