Chapter 2 Alex
1189 Words
Yesterday was a good day.
I arrived at San Francisco without issue. Though I got lost a
bit, I still managed to find my way to Chad’s place at Jefferson
Main.
Chad’s been really nice. I was expecting the worst before I got here, what
with the stories his mom’s been telling me about him. But Chad’s shown me
nothing but kindness. He even gave me a laptop! How cool was that?
He did seem a bit different last night when I woke up, though. He became
distant all of a sudden. A little anxious, even. And he wasn’t really in the
mood to talk. I had to respect his need for privacy. Maybe he was just tired
from the work he had to finish. I hope it wasn’t because he realized that
having me around would disrupt the lifestyle he has become accustomed to.
Chad said he was a game developer, but he didn’t look the part. He was
far too manly to be a tech guy - he’s tall, he’s muscular (but not overly so), he
sported a crew cut (far cry from the scruffy hair that most of the people in his
industry had), and he had comely features. He was a very attractive man. I
was certain that he had a lady friend (perhaps, several of them), one who’d
visit his place from time to time. All the more reason why I had to leave... the
earlier the better.
I knew that I was a burden to him. It was clear that he wasn’t used to
living with someone else. And me being his stepbrother and all, I was sure
that he felt responsible for me in some ways. I didn’t want him to be
inconvenienced like that, even if it’s only for the duration of the semester.
But a big part of me didn’t want to leave. Chad’s nice. His place’s nice. I
could live with the rules he gave. I had it good. Everything gave me a sense
of stability and leaving would just make me start all over again.
I was suffering a dichotomy of emotions. I never, ever wanted to be a
burden to anyone... but I also craved for the reassuring comfort of familiarity
as it made me feel safe, it made me feel secure.
Chad’s cool. His place’s cool. The setup’s cool. Everything’s cool. I felt
steady there. Anchored. Protected. I didn’t want to leave. But I had to.
Eventually. The sooner, the better.
The first day of school was okay. I had three classes scheduled for the
day. Only one pushed through. The lecturers for the other two didn’t even
show up. They didn’t even bother to give notice that they wouldn’t be
attending, hence, we had to wait for them until the bell rang.
College didn’t give me the culture shock that many people warned about.
In a way, college was way better the high school. People here didn’t really
know everyone. They minded their own businesses. They didn’t exhibit the
need to chat with every person they’d meet just to gossip about someone else.
College was more peaceful. I liked it.
My last class ended at 3 P.M. That gave me enough time to visit Henry’s
Pizzeria, a resto I noticed earlier this morning on my way to the university. It
was situated just outside the campus. There was a sign by the door: “For
Immediate Hiring: Kitchen Staff, No Experience Needed, Part Timers
Welcome.” It was the perfect earning opportunity. Flexible working hours,
convenient location, and friendly for beginners.
I met up with the owner who, unsurprisingly, was named Henry. He
seemed strict but he was accommodating. He invited me to his office and
asked me to sit down on the chair in front of his desk. He asked me some
basic questions which I readily answered. Then he inquired about my work
experience.
“Uhm... actually, if you’ll accept me, this would be my first employment,
Sir,” I confessed.
“Ah! A virgin!” he replied. I knew it was supposed to be a joke, but his
firm and serious voice caused some doubts. “You haven’t got any experience
with runnin’ a fastfood joint?”
“No, Sir. Sorry.”
He sighed. “Then why’re you here?”
“The sign outside said no experience was necessary, Sir,” I answered.
“Oh? That sign? s**t! I was just bein’ nice with that one... y’know... I just
wanna look... inclusive. I didn’t wanna look discriminatory. I didn’t wanna
hurt them damn millennials’ feelings.”
“I see,” I mumbled, saddened that I got the wrong impression about what
he was looking for. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Sir. I’ll be on my way.”
Mr. Henry grouched a bit as he eyed me intently. “Hey kid, listen. Why
don’t me and you check out the kitchen, eh? See if you have potential, yeah?”
My eyes lit up with newfound hope. “Really? That’ll be so cool! Thank
you, Sir. Thank you so much!”
He stood up and gestured for me to follow him.
We proceeded to the kitchen. There were two people working there. They
were too busy that they didn’t even look at me when we arrived.
Mr. Henry led me to a table which had a bowl of flour mixture. He dipped
his hands in the container. Once he pulled them back up, he was carrying
handfuls of dough. He rolled them up into a big ball and slammed the
formation hard against the surface. The dough flattened into what looked like
a perfect circle.
“Easy, eh?” he commented.
I nodded.
“Now, you try it,” he ordered.
A lump formed in my throat. I tried to clear it by swallowing some air. It
didn’t help. A huge whirlpool was still swirling in my belly. My knees were
still weak. And my hands were still petrified with nervousness.
I always hated this part of the job application process.
I’ve never been employed before, but it wasn’t because I never tried
finding work.
It was because I always faltered whenever it mattered most.
“Should I do that again?” Mr. Henry asked restively. “You didn’t get it?
Need me to slow down?”
“Uhm... I... I... I can do it, Sir,” I struggled to respond.
Mr. Henry folded his arms over his chest as he took a step back.
I stared at the bowl of dough. I wanted every second to last longer but it
seemed that time was flying way faster than normal. I just stood there,
paralyzed with fear, for quite some time.
“Anytime you’re ready, kid,” Mr. Henry expressed his growing
impatience.
Still, I remained motionless, hoping that my hands would move on their
own and work some magic on the dough.
“You gonna do it or not?” Mr. Henry asked. He sounded like he was
giving me an ultimatum.
“I... I... I will, Sir,” I finally answered as I forced my hands to approach
the bowl
- Writer
