Poppy

 

 

 

“Happy birthday, Poppy!”

Mikayla beams at me over the cup of warm coffee as I stretch my tired arms slowly and somehow drag myself up so my back is pressed against my faded headboard. She excitedly tugs down the comforter so that it’s tangled at my thighs.

“You don’t look like you slept at all last night.” My eighteen year old sister giggles as she thrusts my favorite pink pastel mug into my hands, the one with ‘Bitch Fuel’ scrawled across it in sassy, swirly letters.

“Thanks for the coffee, Miki.” I mumble blearily, sipping at the bitter brown liquid and trying to hide a wince, “Or maybe not.”

“I make it as black as I can. Like my soul.” She smirks, pretty golden eyes going wide and playful as my eyes roll dramatically.

We laugh and fall into an awkwardly hushed quiet, both watching the fluff of whipped cream on the top of the coffee dissolve away with the warmth of the drink. She’d even put rainbow sprinkles on it.

It’s hard to pretend that today is just my birthday and not the anniversary of the worst day of our lives. But Miki has done her best the last two years to help me forget, even though she’s just a young girl herself - not that she’d appreciate that at eighteen.

“How old are you now?” She asks with feigned innocence in her eyes, tossing her sun streaked brunette hair over her shoulder, “Like forty or something?”

“Twenty three.” I humph indignantly, taking another pointed sip of the jet fuel Miki labels as coffee.

She giggles again absently, the way she does when she’s not sure what to say, twirling the end of her long hair around her finger as she inspects it carefully for split ends.

Our conversation idles like a stalling car, dying out.

Lately, we don’t have much to talk about at all.

I hate it, the drifting that’s happened since the accident.

“I’ve got that interview today.” I groan abruptly, twisting my head to look at the clock.

Phew, it was only 6:30. Still ungodly early, but at least I had an hour and a half to get ready.

Miki nods, climbing to her feet with a cheery bounce, “I’ve got to go to school anyways, sis. David is picking me up. Text me when you’ve got that big girl job!”

“If I get it.” I correct her quickly, chewing the corner of my lip. Would they even want me? I was just another art major desperate for a paycheck.

Miki leans over and tucks a lock of my tangled hair behind my ear with unexpected affection.

“You’ve got this, Poppy.”

Then she’s gone from the room with a swish of her long hair, leaving the scent of sweet pea body spray lingering in her wake.

I shake my head, setting the coffee down on my bedside table and flopping backwards on my small but cozy mattress. I had to get this job. Mikayla would be graduating high school soon… that was hard enough to believe as it was. My little Miki, all grown up.

When I closed my eyes, I could still remember the day Mom brought her home from the hospital, clear as though it’d happened days ago. Mikayla had been bald as the day was young, but you could already tell she’d be drop dead gorgeous. I was jealous of her, even then. I’d never spoken a word of that, though.

Sometimes, when I get home from work and catch a stray glimpse of her from around the corner, I almost think she’s Mom. They have the same sweet little button noses and almond shaped eyes. Even their laugh is identical. I took way more after Dad, with his sturdy, sensible nose and mousy hair. If Miki was a beam of cheery sunlight, I was the quiet shadow of evening.

Even though we’d never had a grand life with our parents, there had always been food on the table and love in the air. Mom would sing in the kitchen while she cooked dinner and Dad would play board games with me and Mikayla. I’d never expected that to change.

In his gravelly, teacher voice, Dad always used to tousle our hair when we lost at Scrabble and gently whisper: “Life isn’t always fair.”

Neither of us had known the true meaning of his words until my birthday two years ago, when we’d lost them to the car accident.

It was one of those freak things. No one else was injured. Their tire blew and threw them off a road into a tree. The officers told me it’d been over before either of them could even realize what was happening. I think he expected me to take comfort in his words.

Instead, it tormented me. What had they been doing in the moments before it happened? Had they been laughing along to the radio? Had they been excitedly talking about my college graduation?

“I’m off!”

Miki’s high pitched voice interrupts my thoughts, making me jump slightly when she frowns at me from my doorway. Her analytical eyes sweep across my face, practically reading my thoughts though she doesn’t mention it at all. She never did. We hadn’t had a single conversation about the incident. Probably because we both know it was my fault. My heart throbs at the thought and I shove away the impulse to clutch at my chest.

 “You should get ready.” She finally adds quietly, shifting her backpack to her other narrow shoulder, “And you should wear that blue blouse. You look so pretty in it.”

I gave a slight nod, watching as she slips away. Seconds later, the front door slams behind her as she descends down the stairs of our second floor apartment.

Miki was right. I had to get ready even though my nerves were beginning to coil up inside of me like a frenzied spring. Honestly, I was a little grateful for the distraction from my sad thoughts. I had to focus today, for me and Miki. That girl is smart as a whip and more science minded than my creative brain could ever be. With her stellar grades, she was in the running to be class valedictorian. Teachers that were once mine could hardly believe that the vibrant, popular girl was my little sister. Her heart was set on a nearby private university and even with all the scholarships she could amass, there was just no way to cover the entirety of the tuition. I absolutely had to make more money so that her dreams would come true.

Miki is going to have it better than I did… than I do. She isn’t going to be in her early twenties getting by on Spaghetti-Os and she sure as hell isn’t going to graduate with a worthless art degree and spend her days waitressing in an attempt to pay her bills.

No way. Miki was going to be something, no matter what I had to do to get her there.

With a newfound resolution, I swung my legs out of bed and stomped over to my closet, ripping open the doors. I didn’t have much within the tiny little space, but if I got this job I would surely be able to afford more than half a dozen pairs of old, barely fitting jeans and my assortment of thrift shop blouses.

Grabbing the floaty blue one off the hanger, I pull it over my head and slide my only pair of black slacks up over my hips - another pawn ship find I’d gotten the second I learned about the interview. I still couldn’t believe I’d been even selected to go in, my resume was practically barren. Not that I was in any position to doubt my good luck. I had to take what I could.

Snatching up my handful of dollar store makeup, I hurry to the bathroom, washing my face and double checking that I’d put on deodorant. Applying a dab of gloss and some eyeliner, I smoothed my wild hair into a bun on the crown of my head and inspected myself carefully.

While I didn’t look quite the perfect image of professionalism, I cleaned up nice and Miki had been right about the shirt. I doubted it made me any sort of pretty it was my best choice. I wasn’t being degrading of myself, it was just the pure truth. I wasn’t beautiful, not even close. Just the way it is.

I glance towards my closet hesitantly, knowing that the rest of my clothes either had little cat faces on them, ‘cute’ slogans, or oil stains from when I unexpectedly found myself the fry cook for diner shifts. When you don’t have much money and a high school girl desperate to fit in with her peers, you take whatever shirt is on clearance for yourself. I’m not sure Miki has ever noticed the disparity between her closet and mine, but I don’t mind. My parents would have wanted me to take care of her to the best of my ability and I wanted nothing more than to make them proud.

Another glance at the clock told me I had time to visit them and wish for luck before the interview. I’d even splurge, just this once, and buy a cup of coffee from the cafe on the corner since it was my birthday. The big twenty three. Mom had been this age when she got pregnant with me. I couldn’t imagine being pregnant right now. I felt so young and immature. Maybe she felt like that as well. I’d been an accident. Grandma had told me so one Christmas when I was eight and she was drunk off eggnog. At the top of my closet in a little shoebox, I’d collected all the old photos and memories I could of Mom and Dad. Amongst the slips of paper with their hastily scrawled notes and the pair of diamond earrings Mom had treasured, was a simple Polaroid of a very pregnant Jennifer Lewis with her hands cradling her over sized belly - my home of nine months. Dad’s fingers edged into the shot, blurring it, but I was grateful for even the sliver of him there. He was always the one behind the camera.

Grabbing my purse, I waltz excitedly out the apartment and carefully lock the door behind me before trotting down the stairs and across the sidewalk to the little corner cafe. The line was thankfully short to the counter and soon I had a warm, delicious cup of coffee curled between my fingers. Pausing on the sidewalk, I tilt my head back to savor the nutty flavor and admire the beautiful Georgia sun sailing higher over our small city. With the rise of the sun would come the rise of the temperature, and within the hour we’d all be sweating bullets and sluggishly dragging ourselves across town. Summer was surely on its way.

Just as I reluctantly tore my eyes from the gorgeous dawn and began walking towards the crosswalk, a man bustled roughly past me, practically throwing me backwards on the sidewalk. I stumbled, heels catching in the sliver of the sidewalk as the hot coffee in my hand flew upwards, splashing all down the front of my blouse and pants.

“No!” I cried out in shock, staring down at the mess on my outfit before turning a furious gaze at the tall, broad shouldered man in front of me.

The stranger dusts off a tiny smattering of coffee from the black lapel of his suit, his chiseled jaw decisively uncaring though his eyes sweep over me from head to toe. If I hadn’t been so darn angry, I probably would’ve been stunned by their sea blue depth.

Unfortunately for him though, I was angry. Extremely so. Now, not only would I have to change, but I wouldn’t have time to visit my parents’ graves and beg them for a bit of good luck at the interview.

“What the hell?” I cried out, staring in dismay at my ruined clothes and coffee. At least it wasn’t hot enough to burn me.

“That wasn’t my fault.” He frowned, throwing his arms up in the air as though he hadn’t knocked into me and sent my birthday coffee everywhere, “You should learn to watch where you’re going.”

“Where I’m going?” I spat back, taking a threatening step towards him, “You’re the one who shoved me!”

He rolled his blue eyes, glancing ahead of him down the sidewalk, “Listen, I’m sorry…” He finally shrugs, his frown slowly lifting into a smirk as he takes a few steps backwards before turning and rushing off down the sidewalk, “But I’ve got somewhere important to be!” He calls behind him, waving a a falsely apologetic hand, “I owe you a coffee!”

I can only stare after him in shock, my jaw falling towards the ground.

What an ass!

I stomped my foot on the ground, utterly powerless to chase after him in the uncomfortable heels I’d stolen from Miki’s closet.

Grumbling to myself, I leaned down and grabbed the now empty paper cup and with a heaving sigh, tossed it into the nearby garbage can while curious people watch me from within the cafe. Naturally, none of them come to my aid.

So much for that.

Ugh… Now I was probably going to be late for the biggest interview of my life.

Whirling as quick as I could on my heel, I dash back home, fumbling my key into the lock as I burst inside. Just as the door swings wide open before me, however, a loud bang comes from down the hall of my empty apartment.

“What the hell…?” I breath, a lump forming in my throat.

Glancing around suspiciously, I quickly grab the bat Miki and I keep next to the front door. We don’t live in that great of an area. Better safe than sorry.

Clutching the rough wood handle between my hands and kicking off the high heels, I creep as quietly as I can towards our bedrooms. Miki’s door, which had been open when I left, was now firmly closed. Gulping, I inhale a deep and nervous breath before hastily gripping the door knob and throwing it open as I leap into the room, screaming and holding the bat up over my head.

My little sister screams in response, clapping her hands over her face as a lump twists back and forth on her bed, tangled between her sheets.

“What the… what is going on here?!” I cry, dropping the bat from my shocked hands and taking in the sight of the half naked girl. She stands before me in nothing but her bra and unbuttoned pants, her face red from the shock of my entrance.

“What is going on is damn right!” She shrieks angrily, stamping her foot, “What are you doing busting into my room with a bat!”

“You’re supposed to be in school!” I shoot back, attention turning towards her quivering bed as I grab hold of the blanket and jerk it back. A man in boxers lays in the bed, his black eyes wide.

David. Miki’s boyfriend of about a year.

“Umm, hey Poppy.” He offers uncomfortably, an eyebrow arching as he notices the coffee stains on my shirt, “What happened to you?”

Oh, god. The interview. I didn’t have time for this right now.

I whirl on my sister, thrusting a furious finger in her direction, “I have to go but I swear to God we’re talking about this later. I can’t believe you!”

She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest, “It is so not a big deal. Everyone skips school every now and then.”

Too furious to even answer, I swivel on my heel - though not before reaching into Miki’s closet and snagging out a new blouse. It would be too small for me, but it would have to do.

“That’s mine!” She wails, though she’s smart enough not to chase after me as I stomp from the room and into my own. As I change into a pair of jeans and Miki’s shirt, the front door once again slams shut. When I peek out the window, Miki and David are headed towards his red jeep, their hands wound tight together.

No matter how much I wanted to chase after them and give Miki a firm lecture, I had to get to this job interview. I had to go this position for us. The stern talking to would just have to wait. Guilt pooled inside of me, but I was sure I was making the right choice.

I didn’t even bother looking in the mirror this time, knowing just how I’d look in the sheer pink sleeveless blouse and ill fitting jeans. I could feel the job slipping between my fingers already.

Tears threatened as I darted as fast as I could down the sidewalk, but I refused to let them fall down my cheeks. Practically the only thing I had going for me now was my makeup, I couldn’t ruin that too.

As I turned the street corners, I realized not only that I smelled faintly of coffee, but that in all the hubbub that I’d forgotten my purse and my temples ached slightly from stress and the lack of caffeine.

Then, as I turned that last corner, all of that vanished like a puff of smoke.

I went abruptly still on the sidewalk, my eyes locked on the huge tower ahead of me.

This was it.

The giant building loomed over me so tall and wide that I had to tilt my head backwards and shield my eyes from the blinding sun to inspect the glittering

windows. The metallic sheen of the skyscraper reflected the sun, making the black building look like a giant bike reflector in the afternoon glare. It stood out amongst the brick and mortar buildings surrounding it like a giant ebony thumb against the horizon. There was no comparison for its leaden beauty.

And I was going to work there. Me.

Well. If I aced my interview. Which I would.

Right?

I bit my lip nervously, watching as people floated in and out of the wide double doors that glided open automatically at their approach. Some chuckled and chatted away and some gazed deeply at their phones or at folders in their hands. But all of them had something that I didn’t. All of them had security, financial and otherwise. I’d never even had a security blanket as a baby.

My heart flutters in my chest like a bag of doves released within me, not stilling even when I pressed my hand flush against the warm skin. Under the relentless Georgian heat, or maybe from my wild nerves, beads of sweat had begun to form at the nape of my neck.

It was now or never.

I took a deep breath, holding it inside my lungs until my body screamed for air, then releasing it with a giant whoosh that made my head spin dizzily for a second.

This is it. I know it. I can feel it rattling in my bones.

This day could not possibly get any worse.

For the very first time in my life, something is finally going to go right.