Losing Control Part 5

"Well, maybe Walters then."

Lane smirked.

"You look like you're in good spirits," I said. "Did you kiss the female friend when she was leaving?"

"I don't kiss and tell!"

"Not even to your cool big brother?"

"The cool big brother is a myth," Lane said. "Besides, anyone who says the words acool big brother' in one sentence gets casted off the island for that atrocity alone."

"Ouch."

"So," Lane began. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Go ahead."

"Can I bring the friend home this Friday?"

"You mean the female friend you may or may not have kissed?"

"Shut up. And yes."

"Hmmm," I said. "Let me think. Are you going back to school?"

Lane got up from the couch.

He looked angry at first and then he was obviously trying to calm himself down. "You want me to go away that bad then I'll go," he said.

I put the food plate on the couch and stood. "Lane, that's not what it is. You know that's not true."

He crossed his arms and stood there. He looked hurt and angry at the same time. "I'll go back, okay?" he said. "You don't have to worry about that. Just let me stay here for a while. Please."

"You can stay here as long as you want," I said. "So long as you tell me you're not going to quit school."

He started staring at the floor. "Okay."

I went up to him and put my arm around him. He didn't give in much but at least he didn't protest. "Thank you," I said and kissed his head. He squirmed away at that.

"So can I bring her?" he asked.

I smiled. "Why the h.e.l.l not," I said. "I'm leaving this Friday for another work trip. You and your friend can have the loft to yourself over the weekend."

Lane's face finally looked like I had made him happy. "Cool," he said and coming from Lane that was thank you enough. "Can I also have some cash?"

"What happened to your allowance?"

"I went a little overboard buying someone a gift."

"Right," I said, reaching for my wallet. I took out most of the cash I had and handed it over to him. "Here you go."

He took the cash and stuffed it inside the pocket of his jeans. "Is it okay if I go out for a walk?"

I checked the time on my watch. "Now?" I said. "It's late."

"I'll be quick."

I could call Stanton and ask him to keep an eye on Lane. "Sure," I said. "Not more than a half hour, okay?"

"Okay," he said and ran out.

I immersed myself back in the food and the nature doc.u.mentary where a male lion was trying to save its young from the clutches of an angry wild boar.

ELENA.

It was a little over a month since I broke up with Nick but seemed it happened ages ago. Somehow, the further I stayed from him, the less I wanted to go back. I had officially been looking for a job for a while, without much luck, and it was starting to get on my nerves. If I didn't get a job soon enough I was going to be in a lot of trouble. That whole week, I had called pretty much every one I knew that I thought might be able to help but nothing came through. And it seemed to me that by breaking up with Nick, I also broke up with our so-called mutual friends. Most of them were either too busy to attend my calls, or were never there. Others blatantly asked me when I was going to give up the acharade' and go back to Nick. Naturally they were not happy with my responses, which I agree were downright cold, thanks to the fact that I had been dealing with this for long enough. But that's fine. Even if Penny remains my only friend for the rest of my life, I would have no complaints. She was more than enough. She was always there for me and I could count on her to be supportive. She had opinions and wasn't afraid to share them, but she was also respectful of the opinions of others. We didn't always agree, but we held one another in great respect.

In any case, there I was, sitting by the phone that day, waiting for the one special call to come and invite me to a second interview or something along those lines, but there was nothing and the phone didn't ring. Even Nick had stopped texting like he used to. I was in a staring compet.i.tion with my phone this time, and I realized this is just nonsense. How was it people like Nick had it all figured out and I was so clueless? I was on the verge of losing it. When no amount of staring at the phone or at my computer screen produced any results, I decided to step over to the refrigerator and let junk food do its thing.

Half-way through a giant tub of mint-chip, I was about to give myself up to day-time television, when I heard the door unlocking and Penny stepping in. She saw the ice cream and promptly brought herself a spoon to match. That folks is the reason I love Penny so much.

"Are you depressed again?" she asked.

"Can't a person eat ice cream without being judged?"

"So, you're not depressed?"

"Oh, I'm totally depressed. But I still don't think you should judge me."

"What I'm about to tell you might make you want to rethink your comfort-food choice."

"I highly doubt that."

Penny produces a business card for BRENDA SORKIN.

"Who is she?"

"She's hiring writer types for a part-time copywriting gig."

"Copywriting?" I said. "I've never done any copywriting."

"Well, I might have told them you did though," she said. "But listen, before you start baring your fangs at me, they don't need someone with experience."

"A company that doesn't need someone with experience? How's that even possible?"

"I'm pretty sure they are paying less than market price," she said. "That's why they're asking for fresh young talent."

"Yep. Every time someone says fresh young talent and hiring in one line you should just a.s.sume they're cheap."

"Either way, its work, right? That's what you said you needed?"

"Of course Pen," I said. "I'm still allowed to make jokes about it, though."

"Who knows you might actually end up enjoying it."

"What if I suck?" I asked the obvious question.

"Then they will fire you," she said. "Big deal. No one's hiring you anyway and your resume is pretty s.h.i.+tty as it is."

I grinned because she was not wrong. I've been known to have brief moments of bad decision-making in the past. Okay, so who am I kidding, most of my life is bad decision-making, but when it's on the resume it's there for life.

"I already got you an appointment with her on Tuesday," Penny said. "Ten. Sharp."

Penny was right.

I didn't want the ice cream quite as badly as I did before.

THORNE.

"Lane?" I called out, leaving my luggage by the door and entering the loft. It smelled different. I had barely walked over to the breakfast bar when a young girl, must have been in her teens, wearing a black tank top and lots of eye makeup ran into me. She was carrying a backpack of some kind and she looked me over. "Lane," she yelled. "Your extremely hot brother is here!"

I tried to shelve out a smile but I was certain it must have come out as forced as it felt.

She winked at me and did a little wave thing with her tiny hand, traipsed out the door. I walked upstairs, and the bedroom smelled even worse. "What the h.e.l.l have you two been doing in here?" I said, taking off my suit jacket and placing it on the bed.

Lane sat rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to one side, dressed in a wife-beater and a pair of dangerously low-hanging jeans. "You really want to know?" he asked.

I noticed the multiple empty condom wrappers on the ground. "I guess not," I said, realizing my maid was going to have a h.e.l.l of time in here. I went to the wardrobe to get myself a pair of lounge pants and a t-s.h.i.+rt to go with it. But before I could head to the bathroom, I saw something on the nightstand. It was a tiny plastic bag with some sort of pills inside. I held it up for Lane to see. "Would you mind explaining this?" I asked, my anger levels already reaching higher frequencies as I tried to think of the excuses he was about to give to me.

Lane looked suddenly wide awake. "That's not mine," he said.

"Lane," I said. "You think I reached twenty-nine without going through adolescence?"

"Look I tried maybe one or two. But it's really not mine."

I knew that was as close to a confession as I was going to get. "I thought Dad gave you the drug speech when he was giving you the condom speech."

"We were partying," he said. "Not like this is routine or anything."

"I hope not," I said, heading to the bathroom.

"Can I get that stuff back?" Lane asked as I opened the bathroom door.

"Absolutely not," I said. "You don't think I'm that stupid, do you?"

"Look, if she comes back for it-"

"Tell her to go to your extremely hot brother!" I snapped, almost turned on the shower and then peeked out. "This is not over, buddy."

ELENA.

Interviews.

Dreaded, unrealistic monologues which have a tendency to become torture. Who said interviews were supposed to be the way to get hired? If your job description has nothing to do with facing people, or being confident with them, why is it that they put you through the whole ordeal of appearing as someone you're not?

They felt to me like one of those sick, twisted ways of making a person suffer just because you can. Needless to say, I had never been fond of them. They made me nervous and revealed my worst. There was always some stupid b.a.s.t.a.r.d sitting in front of you acting like they own the world and you were supposed to just suddenly have a personality that pleases three or however many different people they have in front of you, and you were supposed to talk about stupid things. You're supposed to speak of your qualities and do it in so you're not overbearing, and hide your weaknesses and still come across as honest. I realized with disdain that I had probably been waiting in the lobby for too long, because I made the mistake of appearing an hour early.

I was supposed to be a writer but even I have trouble coming up with politically-correct lies the entire length of an interview. This was why I was becoming rather fond of this particular interviewer. Brenda Sorkin wasn't really like others I have had the displeasure of knowing. Brenda, although as sharply dressed and professional as everyone else at their firm, was actually nice to me. She didn't ask any of the usual questions and if she did they didn't sound like The Spanish Inquisition coming from her. She had to be in her forties, and was so incredibly calm and positive a person that I literally had to pinch myself to remind me that this was really happening. She told me they needed fresh people they could train to suit their brand. The money was less but it certainly wasn't too bad for me, considering the job would only twelve months. At the end of it all, she told me what they expected from me and I told them about my concerns. Then Brenda told me she wanted me to begin working Monday, so I had about five days to prepare. She handed me a thick folder, consisting of important information on their previous campaigns, and it explained what my job actually required from me. I thanked her and told her I would be there Monday and she looked glad to hear it. When I came out, I stopped for coffee and called Penny.

"I got it," I said the minute she answered. "I got the job, Pen! I'm supposed to start Monday."

"You sound excited which means it went well. Liked the place?"

"I loved the place and I like Brenda," I said. "She's sweet and so different from anyone who's ever interviewed me. I didn't even feel nervous once she started talking."

"A lot of bosses are nice until you start working for them. Don't count your eggs before they hatch, baby."

"A little excitement can't hurt. You know how much I need it."

"Tell you what," Penny said. "Your last few days as a free person, let's celebrate and make the most of it. Then you will be bound by a contract just like the rest of us minions."

Penny and her odd thoughts. She truly believes she knows how to correct the world.

"Penny," I said. "I would love to celebrate however and whenever you want."